Backwoods Blog .182

MT KATAHDIN

Backwoods blog;

in the woods and on the road…

“Mt. Katahdin in Winter”

I think each person, if they stop and reflect on their own life, can identify one (or several) defining experiences that stand out as significant over a lifetime. For me, one of those “life experiences” are the winter ski trips I took to Mt. Katahdin in Baxter State Park from 1990 to 2003. I was an optician at the time, and my boss who started leading winter trips to Mt. Katahdin in the early 1980s, invited me to join the team. Over the course of four days, we covered 30 miles (round trip) in one of the most amazing locations in the world hauling everything we needed on our back or pulk sled; bed, kitchen, supplies and gear. “Weigh-in” was the night before the trip, when you loaded your sled and stepped on the scale with it to see how much it weighed! Typically, as your packing strategy changes, each year you go you find the sled gets a little lighter.

This was also before cell phone communications. Part of the extended backcountry experience is total isolation for four days; no news, no sports scores, no contact with the outside world. It is just your companions, the thoughts in your head and whatever reading material you might have brought along. For me, the physical exertion required for such a trip, kept my focus on how my body felt; maintaining core temperature, hydration, energy levels, mental stamina. I am not an athlete or competitive skier, but I considered these winter trips in Baxter as my personal Boston Marathon. I (casually) trained for these trips and tried to make sure I was ready, yet I did push myself to my maximum, and there were moments (in between the exhaustion and discomfort) where I’d never felt better or stronger or more alive in my life. Here is a journal entry from my first trip to the mountain.

February 16, 1990 Friday afternoon

We started the trip at 6:00AM skiing from Compass Pond hauling our gear on expedition pulk sleds and arrived at Roaring Brook at 3:45 PM. It was a calm day, but cold. Everyone, including the rangers, were talking about a big storm moving in overnight. (Once you’re on your own, seemingly up against elements, this is the kind of thing that suddenly becomes a popular topic.) Everyone has a keen interest in wind speeds, storm centers and emergency radios. It was a long haul in. I can see why we have the place pretty much to ourselves. It’s no fun dragging a 60 pound plastic sled up a mountain in the middle of February. The next morning we skied the final three miles from Roaring Brook to Chimney Pond, which is the steepest part of the trail. When we arrived at Chimney Pond, I can see why people make the extra effort to get here; you come up one last steep incline (totally exhausted) and then there it is…Mt. Katahdin surrounds the pond, its glazed walls rising to form an immense, natural amphitheater, full of mystique and awe. On top of the world, is the kind of feeling that you get.

The first question people usually ask when you return from a trip to Katahdin is, “Did you make it to the summit?” In winter, there are a lot of variables that come into play. Out of the fourteen trips that I made, I summited four times. If conditions are favorable, the mountain gods are smiling on you. If not, you are on your own and better have your wits about you. I’ve been on the summit under both conditions, and trust me, it’s better when the gods are on your side. In one photograph you will see me walking across the Tableland in a T-shirt and no headgear. In another, I am hunkered down, posing just long enough for a photo and then getting the heck out of there. There are many more stories to tell, but they wait to be told. Think about your own stories. It is these remembrances that accompany us for a lifetime.

In the woods,

Dave

March 12, 2025