Rest Day (Kind of)

As with most mornings on the Allagash, I woke up to a blanket of fog covering everything, a thin sheen of moisture dampening supplies, but not our moods. After 22 miles paddling the day before, we had almost 0 miles to paddle that Wednesday. As the scouts had anticipated months before, they got a rest day in the middle of their week, even if it wasn’t planned for. With a distinct ache hovering between my shoulder blades, and coupled with it being my 44th birthday, I was perfectly fine with a rest day. I don’t know what it was that dragged me out of the tent finally, but I feel like it was the cacophony of rambunctious red squirrels traipsing through our campsite, searching for little morsels of food and utterly annoyed that we would invade their territory. Cute little buggers, but annoying as all get out when they start yelling at you from a branch 5 feet away from your head. Alas, we were in their territory so I made coffee and wandered around waiting for the rest of the scouts to get up later than they had or would on any other day of the trip. We wouldn’t be completely resting that day, only resting really from extensive paddling as there was a fire tower awaiting our exploration across Round Pond.

The campsite slowly woke up, as well as our neighbors at Inlet who were headed out that day and needed to pack all their gear together. Turns out we had some really nice neighbors because not only did the split some wood with their ax the night before for us, but they also brought over extra breakfast they cooked that morning which amounted to a heaping plate of scrambled eggs and hash. It was a wonderful treat after our grab and go breakfasts of trail mix and snack bars, although we did have some oatmeal on occasion and we were having pancakes and spam that morning. But the eggs and hash topped it off. We chatted with them a bit as they were packing their gear getting ready to head out on the Allagash and once they departed, we began our preparations for our short jaunt across Round Pond. There were some thunderstorms forecast for that afternoon, so we headed over late morning in an attempt to head them off. We had no desire or need to be on the water when a thunderstorm rolled through.

The trip across was uneventful save a handful of scouts singing Bohemian Rhapsody along the way. We arrived in short order, tied off our canoes, and had a quick bite before heading up the trail. It was supposed to be 2 miles one way, but I feel the whole round trip was closer to 5 maybe even 5.5 miles, but that’s me, poor judge of distances when being walked or canoed. As we were hiking, low peals of thunder sounded in the distance, at first sounding like logging trucks or airplanes, which we knew they weren’t, and before long they trended closer. There wasn’t much to do except keep hiking, stay off the tree roots, and under the cover of the canopy. There was no shortage of the canopy except in two sections where it crossed an old logging road and another gravel road. The last section to the top was a bit steep and took its toll on a few of the scouts, but that was the last run to the top. Unfortunately, with the fire tower being in a clearing on top of a small mountain and the thunder still roaring in the distance around us, we could only let the scouts view the tower from the tree line. Even if they could get to the fire tower itself, the ladder up was a little sketchy with no real protection so I don’t think I would have let them climb anyway. However, with it being my birthday and the possibility of my returning there slim to none, I took my chances and scrambled quickly to the top, maybe an 80′ climb. None of the thunder was exceptionally close and only a few drops of rain had fallen on us, so I felt relatively safe. One other adult joined me at the top and we were afforded 360 views of the surround wilderness of far of thunder clouds making their way through the sky.

Upon heading down, some of the scouts inquired again about climbing it to which the answer was a resounding no. Even my son asked, but I couldn’t let him if I wasn’t letting anyone else, it just wouldn’t be fair. So we had a quick snack and headed back down the trail to our canoes, praying that the thunder would cease 30 minutes prior to our arrival so we could coast right back across to our campsite without worrying about lightning. We got pelted a few more times with a light drizzle, but nothing heavy or drenching luckily, and we lucked out as a little more than 30 minutes before arrived back a the canoes, the last peal of thunder could be heard off in the distance, restarting the timer all the adults were keeping track of. Along the way, we saw plenty of evidence of moose again, without actually seeing one, but also plenty of birch bark laying around which would go a long way in helping to start our evening fire. So I stuffed my pockets and grabbed as much as possible in one hand. Also on that hike, one of the scouts learned the “pleasure” of an emergency number 2 toilet priority taking hold and we took a break on the way up so he could find a spot way off the trail.

It was a good hike overall, not too strenuous, and I on my birthday absolutely enjoyed it. Back at the canoes, getting ready to depart with our life jackets on and meandering back to our canoes, another party was approaching our campsite which we let them know was all theirs as we were camping across the way. Ironically, we would run into this same group over the next few days and spend our last night in a campsite with them, but that’s a tale for another day. We ferried ourselves across the pond and set to getting a fire started and relaxing in the afternoon sun now that the thunderstorms had passed. We lucked out going on the hike as it seems to have poured at the campsite while we were away, apparently the thunderstorm cells moving around where we actually were. The fire wood we had collected was a bit damp, so we searched and found more, cutting it down to size and utilizing our birchbark to get it going. At one point, my canoe partner, myself and my son, went on a short canoe paddle along the shore to search for driftwood, which we found plenty of. It was a relaxing afternoon capped with a nice dinner that I don’t remember what it was and a birthday cake for me. To top it all off, one of the scouts, who we came to refer to as Mr. Rogers due to the fact that his evening rants were the complete antithesis of the actual Mr. Rogers, went on a lengthy rant about his gripes for day and he had all the adults and whatever scouts hadn’t retreated to their tents in stitches, gripping their sides that were aching from extensive laughter. At one point I asked if he was enjoying the trip to which he said, “Absolutely, best trip ever, but right now, blah blah blah….”

It was a good trip so far and I wouldn’t trade that bunch of scouts for anyone else. That and the adults made it fantastic week thus far.