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This morning was our final grocery store resupply before Fort Kent, and we made the most of it by scarfing down a whole apple pie for breakfast. After yesterday’s doldrums on the Moose River, this morning felt like a breeze.
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We thought we’d leave most of the Big 3 (mosquitoes, black flies, and no-see-ums) that were plaguing us at Fish Pond behind when we departed for our ~8-mile portage, but we were sorely mistaken.
I’d been dreading this section of our journey for quite some time. After the manageable but tedious Grand Falls portage and a worthwhile stop to see the falls, we continued on to the infamous Little Spencer Stream.
Another early (6:15am) start to beat the wind on another big lake! Paddling Flagstaff was beautiful, with the Bigelow Range rising above us to the south the entire time as we made our way to the eastern side of the lake.
After a stellar breakfast of blueberry pancakes, home fries, eggs, bacon, and fresh fruit, we said goodbye to our hosts and fellow thru-adventurers, had our Polaroid taken to hang on the wall, and walked the final 4 miles into Stratton.
Today was a long, painful walk in the pouring rain to a cozy, warm, and downright dreamy hostel. This was the only consolation and motivation for me throughout the day. Before we began our trek, we checked out the grounds of the Maine Forestry Museum – what a cool collection of logging machinery! We hope to return someday when it’s fully open.
Today was our first 5am wake-up call of the trip, as we needed to avoid the windiest part of the day at all costs. We were somewhat successful. We paddled down Upper Richardson with the wind at our backs and portaged over to Mooselookmeguntic with an unspoken urgency to move toward Rangeley.
Started out the day with the mentally and physically-tough Rapid River carry, thinking that it would be the toughest part of today. We were wrong.
Yet another “this will basically be a rest day” turned “we’ll go a little farther” day. We walked and paddled into Errol, making our first moose sighting of the journey! Ben spotted a young calf swimming across the river in front of us below the Errol dam, making its way to the steep bank that it clambered up without pause, then disappeared into the thick brush.
Today we walked a lot. Our journey from Stark to close to Errol had us questioning whether this is a “thru-paddle” or a “thru-hike with some paddling mixed in.” John left the cabin with an Irish goodbye around 7:30am, and he cranked away at an astonishing pace with his new wheels.
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