Fire Towers 1 Me 0

  Thursday 8 August 2024

Trails Hiked: Trout Pond Mountain

7 Miles

2:00pm (9:00) - 7:35pm

Partly Cloudy, Warm, & Breezy

Years ago, I never would have left home at twelve o’clock for an afternoon hike in Baxter. That just wasn’t something my brain could comprehend as a safe thing to do. Baxter is wild, unpredictable, and without contact. But that is also what makes her so appealing. Spending so much time long-distance hiking on the Appalachian Trail has helped me to have a healthier relationship with my fears. Instead of letting fear control me, I have learned the difference between true fear that could cause me harm and that fear which keeps me grounded to my comfort zone.

With a full weekend on our calendar, if we wanted to get our weekly hike in, we, rather, Bruce, needed to take a day off from work. So that’s what we did. We had company Monday through Wednesday. Friday we needed to prepare for the weekend’s show and family time, so that left Thursday for our jaunt into the woods.

The trail we scoped out, Trout Mountain Trail was listed on the map as only 2.3 miles to the summit making it only 4.6 miles round-trip. Now in Baxter, 4.6 could be a doozie, but the map also told us while there would be some elevation gain, it would be minimal and not steep. Bruce worked the morning while I made our snacks and packed our things. I may be comfortable heading off into Baxter for the afternoon and possibly early evening, but I am still smart about our choices.

I make sure we have rain gear, an extra long-sleeved layer - even in summer, extra food, an emergency blanket, hydration, a knife, headlamp, my inReach® and something to build a fire with. There might even be a few smaller things in my pack too. Yes, all that for just a short hike. I would love to venture off for a simple hike with nothing but a water bottle as I see so many hikers do, but I don’t. I pack in case I must spend the night in the woods unexpectedly. I consider short hikes training for longer hikes. When I played sports, teammates used to make fun of me for gearing up during practices and taking training sessions so seriously. I tried telling them it was important to practice like you would play in a game. I carry that technique over to my hiking.

I make us to-go lunches to eat in the truck for the ride to Baxter State Park. The hour and a half drive never gets old. We drive the back road from our house to the Lincoln which is beautiful as it follows Cold Stream Pond – the lake we live on – giving us peek-a-boo views. Then the access road leaving Lincoln crosses over the Penobscot River and that view is stunning as the water flows far below the bridge. Sometimes the fluvial is calm and gentle and other times it is ruffled by the wind or deeper waters depending on the rains causing it to look angry.

Once on the interstate, there is nothing but trees and bogs. As of last week, the leaves were already starting to change color in some areas. That’s just way too soon! It was a reminder not to complain about the heat and humidity because soon that will be gone and replaced with fall’s cool crisp air. Fall is my favorite time of year, but it’s what follow’s that isn’t so pleasant – long dark cold days and nights.

We get off I-95 at Medway and head west. Another scenic Maine drive with teasing sights of Katahdin, more water views, and never-ending trees. It’s amazing all the different color greens nature can paint. Before we know it, we are at the park’s visitor center. Which means we missed the trailhead parking. I needed to run into the center anyway. I wanted to buy another Baxter map. The ranger inside sold us a map and pointed us in the correct direction.

The trail head is not visible from the Baxter State Park Road, that’s why we missed it. We needed to turn at Caribou Pit which we have seen every time we go to the park. We just thought it was the landing pad for helicopters. That landmark hid the little gem of a trail we were looking for. Technically, Trout Mountain Trail is not in Baxter. But since it is on the map, we wanted to check it out.

There were two vehicles already there but still plenty of room for several more to park without being crowded. We quickly jumped out, read the kiosk to make sure we were at the correct spot, donned our packs, and did our beginning hike ritual before taking off up the trail. It wasn’t long before we met the owners of the other cars on their way back out. First it was two young chaps then shortly after that probably their parents and two teenage girls. And they were all traveling light. I think only one of them had a pack and no one had poles.

This trail was still what I would consider easy, but not like the last three we had done. Poles probably were not necessary, but I like to use them no matter what surface I hike on except for rock scrambles. It was nice to finally have some elevation. It wasn’t much, but more than what I had done since hiking in Virginia in May. There was a slight breeze, combine that with our hiking speed and the bugs were nonexistent. Until they found us or until we hiked into their territory. Out came the Repel® and I was bug free again.

Trout Mountain is only 1409 feet high and with the elevation lines on the map spread from 2-5 millimeters apart, the hike was gentle most of the time. But towards the end it did get my heart beating more than usual. I had to stop a few times briefly to let the thumping in my ears and chest calm down. But that was nothing compared to the racing it did later.

At the summit stood an eighty-foot fire tower. Eighty feet doesn't sound like much until you are standing at the bottom looking up. As backwoods fire towers go, this one was amazing. It looked sturdy and well-constructed. It resembled the stairwell for a several story hotel only without the sides closing in the structure. Fire towers and I have an on-going battle. I so want to reach the top, but fear holds me back. I always give them a try and go up until I can’t go any further, then retreat. This tower was no different.

I stood at the base and proclaimed my goal. I knew I would not be able to go to the top, so I announced I would claim the second level as my prize. With fear tucked into my pocket without a second thought, I started to climb the stairs. Easy-peasy. Until halfway up the staircase started to flex. Hmm. I felt the fear jump out of my pocket and into my chest. My confident pace slowed as I continued to the first landing. I rounded the corner and took a few steps up the next set of stairs and I stopped not able to move. Feeling like I was going to slide right off the structure, I had to talk myself off the edge of a panic attack. I couldn’t even turn around, I had to step backwards back to the landing, shuffled the few steps also backwards where I continued one foot at a time – still backwards down to the ground.

Completely disappointed I retreated to the picnic table as I watched Bruce climb to the top and enjoy the view. While he did that, I tried again. I climbed a little more confidently up the first set of stairs again then returned to the ground back-facing. Again! I sat on the picnic table wishing I could go up. I sat there and regained composure and told myself, you can do this! It’s just two levels. So back to the structure I went.

This time when I rounded the corner to head up the second section, I didn’t look out through the open stairs. I trained my eyes to focus only on the next metal riser. This was extremely difficult because the airiness of the design did not hide the expanse of nothingness below. But I climbed and with each step up my heart became so loud I could hear it in my ears and feel it beating in my chest. I made it though! I was not above the trees, but the view was still amazing. I could see Katahdin in one direction and distant mountains and lakes in the other.

I even stayed there long enough to take a selfie video to prove that I was there. I wanted to stay longer but my fear had taken up residence and was growing with every second. I could no longer control my racing heart and the sound in my ears was deafening only adding more to my anxiety. I tucked my phone in my pocket - wishing it was my fear I could put away instead – and retreated slowing back to the first level – again backwards. But this time when I got to the landing, I was able to turn around and walk down the stairs like a normal person.

The score this year is Fire Towers 1 Me 0. But that’s okay. I was able to go further than I have ever been able to do. I don’t know if I will ever be able to climb a fire tower to it’s upper most level, but I do know that I will never stop trying. Each time I try I gain confidence. Like Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do.” Fear of heights still keeps me grounded for a bunch of adventures, but I am slowly getting more comfortable with my feet off the ground.

The hike out was quick and fast. We are not trying to hike at record speeds. We are enjoying ourselves, but we tend to naturally hike fast. Fast is used very loosely with me. Bruce is an animal when it comes to hiking. I hike relaxed, sometimes I go fast, sometimes I crawl. What is most important is not the speed in which I do it, but rather that I do it. I let the nature of the trail and my abilities dictate my rhythm.

Back at the truck we celebrate another hike done in the beautiful Maine woods, this time bordering Baxter State Park, but close enough to feel her presence. We dry the sweat and bug dope from our bodies, grab our Moxie and head home. I scroll my pictures as Bruce drives so I can relive my success making it to the second platform. To my disappointment, the video I so bravely photographed as my heart tried to jump out of my chest turned out to be a few brief seconds of my underarm and a glimpse of one of my iconic braids. So no proof of my climb other than the view etched on my retina.

Bruce's video from the top.

Happy Hiking,

Emily