River Crossings
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.
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.