Quiet reflection and the world beginning to embrace the warmth of the coming spring from beneath a deep layer of snow. I had the good fortune (and time) this past week to head up to Northern Maine for an overnight ski tour into Katahdin Woods and Waters National Monument. Skiing in on a Sunday, aside from the one group of skiers I encountered heading out I had the entire northern half of the park to myself after that. Probably the southern half as well.
As always, I snapped a few photos of what I saw along the way – except for the unparalleled view of the night sky with many more stars than I have seen in a very long time. That memory I save for myself. Besides, no photo could properly capture that view.
“All the variety, charm and beauty of life are made up of light and shade” – Tolstoy A 3AM departure from Portland meant a 7AM start from the trailhead near Matagamon, overnight permit in hand. I’m always surprised at how few Mainers have actually visited any part of northern Maine. On the flip side, since most don’t visit the solitude that can be had in this area is priceless (especially in winter).
“Kicker skins will save your bacon on a spring tour” – Unknown skier. I’ve been running these ancient Kazama waxable, metal edged skis for many, many years now. Temps ranged from 5 to 40 deg on this overnight making for a waxing a challenge so I gave up and used these puppies. They performed flawlessly (Haskell Rock Pitch in the background).
“Every man should pull a boat over a mountain once in his life” – Werner Herzog I havn’t skied with a pack all year (heck I haven’t really skied much at all this winter!), so the rolling nature of the the second half of the ski into Big Spring Brook was blister inducing. KWW shares its western border with Baxter State Park and its stately range of summits.
“The more powerful and original a mind the more it will incline towards the religion of solitude” – Aldous Huxley Not so sure about the powerful and original statement, but can I get an AMEN? Big Spring Brook Hut shedding it’s winter layers while keeping the snow shower at bay. It’s a large hut and I had it all to myself for the night. Not another human for miles.
“The mind is not a vessel to be filled but a fire to be kindled” – Plutarch. Fire burning, warmth spreading, wet clothes drying – skiing into a hut is almost like cheating. A reminder of the sometimes bitter fight that led to the creation of this gem of a national monument.
“There is not love of life without depair about life” – Albert Camus Setting sun filtered through the cabin window caressing the hut table
“The straight line leads only to death” – Jack Kerouac In the meantime, time to begin day 2 with a short climb out of the hut and back to the main trail. Death is a long way off on a sunny morning.
“The bluebird carries the sky on his back” – Thoreau I started to ski downriver from Haskell Rock as I wanted to see Grand Pitch, but the trail was icy and hard to follow without detours so I gave up. I did follow some fisher tracks for a while along the river’s edge which was really cool.
“When you realize how perfect everything is you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky” – Buddha I scrunched down to line up this shot and ended up falling backwards, rolling around weighted down by my pack in the snow like an overturned turtle before righting myself. Haskell Rock Pitch again.
“The first track is the end of a string. At the far end, a being is moving; a mystery, dropping a hint about itself every so many feet, telling you more about itself until you can almost see it, even before you come to it. The mystery reveals itself slowly, track by track, giving its genealogy early to coax you in. Further on, it will tell you the intimate details of its life and work, until you know the maker of the track like a lifelong friend” – Tom Brown, Jr. I followed these meandering moose postholes for a while, observing where it stopped to nibble on branches here and there before finally losing the trail as it traveled up a hillside. Crossing the trail at right angles were other tracks of hunting, single-minded marten and frolicking river otters. I wonder if anyone followed my trail and if so, what did they surmise from my track?
The Tin Man Rides Again 
Great report Tom , thanks for sharing!