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The
Kennebec
From "All In One Roll" by Alan
Strackeljahn GA-ME '83 www.2000milehike.com
No hurry getting up this morning since breakfast
wasn't until 7:30 am. We packed up and went a little
early, hoping to induce the owner into serving a little
earlier - no luck. We all sat down to eat and had some
juice to occupy us while they made the pancakes. Some
hikers ordered eggs as well. I ordered six pancakes,
while others went for the stack of fifteen. With the
pancakes that the others did not seem to be able to
get down, I ended up eating sixteen pancakes. While
we were eating, the owner had gotten on the ham radio
that he had in the dining room and contacted someone
he knew down by the Kennebec River. The volume was turned
up intentionally so we could hear the response. He asked
how the river was this morning. He told the unknown
man that he had five people eating and were wondering
about the river conditions for crossing. I believe that
this was a game between the two men and us, the hikers,
as the reply came back stating, " The dams are
open, and the river is rising
.but I think they
can make it." Well, the clock showed almost nine
already, and we still had four miles to get to the Kennebec!
The adrenalin began to flow as we departed from the
camp and rushed down the trail. I was in such a hurry
that I seemed to have to pull the others along as they
struggled to keep up with my blistering pace. I did
not want to cross alone.
Along the way I began searching for a pole to brace
myself against the current and give me extra stability
during the crossing. I selected a nice seven or eight
feet long tree limb, actually the whole trunk of a straight
pine tree, and began breaking off the extraneous limbs
in an effort to produce the perfect pole to assist me
if needed. I worked on the tree as I continued to hike
toward the river. Some of the others followed my lead
and selected their own poles. Eventually we rounded
a bend to the left and the river came into view. Wow!
We have to cross that? This is a real river - with no
bridge! Wilderness and adventure are what Maine is all
about. I was psyched, and ready to cross. As soon as
I reached the riverbank, I sat down and took off my
boots, and put on my spare pair that I carried just
for this occasion. Once the boots were switched, I decided
that this was not really the place to cross, and moved
upstream a hundred yards or so to the area where three
gravel bars could be seen. I remembered hearing somewhere
that the shallowest crossing was in the area where the
three sandbars are located. If you could not see three
sandbars, DO NOT CROSS! The others followed me, almost
cheering me on to be the first to test the waters for
them. The river was 150 - 200 yards wide and the entire
bottom was covered with softball sized and larger rocks
that were rounded and slick from years of erosion and
water-flow over them. I stepped in and held my pole
so the end was lodged in the stones downstream and then
took a few steps as the cold water rushed around my
calf muscles. I moved the pole forward for the next
set of steps and continued this process with what seemed
to be no problem. I reached the first gravelbar and
turned around to watch the others as they began their
crossing. I set out for the second gravelbar and the
water began to get deeper. At times the water was rushing
past with such force that without the pole, I surely
would have gone down. With a full pack, the results
could definitely be disastrous. I began the crossing
by unlatching my waist strap, thinking that if I did
fall in I could get out of my pack a lot easier. Suddenly
my foot slipped off one of the submerged rocks and I
almost fell to my knees. The water rushed around me,
but with the pole that I had lodged downstream and the
force of the current behind me, I immediately popped
back up. I would have been a "goner" had it
not been for the pole. Behind me I heard Nick shout
"Go back in! I gotta get a picture." I just
laughed and continued on to the other side. Upon reaching
the safety of the other bank I dropped my pack, extracted
my camera from its pouch and turned to record the group
during this historic event. Nick was traveling with
his camera in his hands! I could see the water rise
around the thighs of the hikers in the deeper sections.
I did not notice the amount of time that it took to
cross, but it was the most exciting event on the trail
so far. Once on the other side, "the Maximus"
knelt down and kissed the ground. He was so happy to
have made it across.
If
you have a story involving a river crossing, send an
email with the information to: trailtales@atmuseum.org
Submit
your trail stories Information:
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General Information: trailtales@atmuseum.org
Copyright © 2004 Appalachian Trail Museum Society
Last Modified 09/24/04
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