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Saturday in the Bigelows

November 4, 2012

Thankfully, Sandy took it easy on us up here in Maine. We were largely unaffected, save for some wind and rain.

Though I will say, “wind” and “rain” take on a whole new, scary meaning when your shelter is flimsy. Large gusts would actually make the trailer sway, as I lay there in bed, eyes shut tight, wishing I were anywhere else, wondering juuust how securely we were fastened to the ground.

With the inclement weather behind us, our final weekend in Maine looked pretty perfect, weather-wise. Yesterday, we packed up the car and drove west for a hike.

(Maine’s not ALL ocean and lobsters, ya know.)

Though, on a scale of “one” to “not-in-shape” – guess who was unprepared to climb mountains?

This girl.

We didn’t actually get to summit any peaks, due to our late start and an early sunset this time of year, but we were able to get in 8.6 miles anyway. We climbed up, up, up into an icy cloud, and turned around with just enough time for the cloud to break and afford us a peek at our surroundings.

Did I mention the cloud was icy? Look at those trees!

I badly wanted to stay, take better pictures and continue to climb, but we were losing daylight and frankly, my fingers were too cold to be useful.

Turns out its colder at 3300 feet than at sea level. Who knew?

I waited too long to put my gloves back on and crossed beyond the “pain” threshold into “I have fingers? Could’ve fooled me!” territory. Dumb. Tom had to help me zip my fleece and put my camera away.

This all came, of course, AFTER his snack. Max would like to know why nobody packed HIM a Clif bar.
(He was rewarded with cheezburger after the hike, don’t you worry.)

As you can see from our GPS map, we barely made a dent in the Bigelow Preserve. Our hike kept us on the Appalachian Trail, but there are plenty of side trails. A word to the wise: come prepared with your own trail map. It’s impossible to buy one anywhere nearby.

Never fear – there’s an app for everything.

Sugarloaf ski area in the distance. No snow – yet.

Of course, what’s the fun in a hard physical effort without a little reward at the end? (Maine microbrews, naturally.)

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