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The Still Untamed
Maine Woods (cont.)
.JPG) The
Knife Edge is a narrow, serrated ridge that tops the southern wall of
Katahdin. Sheer cliffs almost 2,000 feet high plummet directly down on
either side. The trail that follows it is advertised as one of the most
spectacular and harrowing in the East. The park ranger we talked with
said it was a tricky climb with extreme exposure. Our guidebook warned
against climbing it for those who were afraid of heights. But in spite
of the warnings, or because of them, we knew we had to traverse it, even
if it meant climbing down with only the light from or headlamps. We had
to go.
While climbing up Baxter peak from the North or West, the extreme
verticality of the Knife Edge is wholly deceiving. It’s deceiving
because immediately after stepping off the peak to the southeast the
ridge narrows to within 2 or 3 feet. As soon as Jimmy and I started
along the trail, we were forced to negotiate jagged, granite slabs on
all fours. It quickly became apparent to us that ‘extreme exposure’ was
the understatement of the trip. It also became clear that the trail was
definitely not for the faint of heart. One wrong step and it would’ve
been a two-hundred foot fall to the jagged rocks below. We took one
deliberate step after one deliberate step, knowing full well that one
wrong one would be our last.
Before leaving to hike the Knife Edge, we estimated that it would take
about an hour and a half to complete the traverse, leaving us with just
enough time to descend before nightfall. After two hours of scrambling
over and clinging to the side of the ridgeline, though, it became clear
that we had completely underestimated the endeavor. We had come most of
the way across the ridge, but were still left with one last climb up to
Chimney Peak. Our legs were tired and our shoulders weary. We had been
hiking for more than 10 hours. After another 40 minutes, though, we
belatedly reached Chimney Peak. We had done it. We had climbed Mount
Katahdin. We had not only reached Baxter Peak but traversed the Knife
Edge as well. I wanted to collapse.
Thoreau, in all his time around the mountain, probably never reached
Baxter Peak—“Ktaadn” never makes it clear. Instead, he likely returned
to lower elevations almost immediately upon reaching the cloud-covered
tablelands. But it is also clear from his writing that achieving the
summit was never his main goal. His journey to Katahdin was primarily
about discovering the Maine woods. The journey was never solely focused
on the peak of the mountain itself. In fact, while writing about the
summit, he says that “only daring and insolent men, perchance, go there”
and that “Pamola (the Abenaki bird spirit that inhabits the mountain) is
always angry with those who climb to the summit of Ktaadn.”
After completing our traverse of the Knife Edge, I realized Pamola must
have been in a forgiving mood. From our vantage point on Chimney Peak,
the sun was setting quietly behind the main massif of Katahdin. It
would’ve been hard to imagine the mountain looking any more peaceful.
It’s not often that the inclement weather in Maine affords that view of
the region and I was more than happy to soak it all in.
“There it was, the state of Maine,” wrote Thoreau, “which we had seen on
the map, but not much like that. Immeasurable forest for the sun to
shine on . . . No clearing. No house. It did not look as if a solitary
traveller had cut so much as a walking-stick there.”
The same could be said today. As we drank the last of our water before
our descent, I studied the valley below. It was like a perfectly
stitched quilt. Not a seam or stray thread was visible from above, just
never-ending green. Only gleaming lakes and dark shadows of drifting
clouds decorated the land below. Even the gravel roads of Baxter State
Park were obscured by the green canopy.
By then it was getting late. It was also becoming ever more apparent
that we would be descending when darkness set in. Still, I couldn’t
resist lingering awhile longer. Many things have changed in the Maine
woods since Thoreau’s day—wolf and caribou have long ago disappeared and
roads have now opened the region to thousands of weekend visitors—but
one thing will never change. From atop Katahdin, it’s hard not to
appreciate the awful beauty of the still untamed Maine woods.
.jpg) Boston-based
freelance writer Ryan Krogh has written for AMC Outdoors,
inTravel Magazine and Pology. He is currently doing an
internship with Outside magazine in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Photo (Top of
page): The author's hiking partner, Jimmy, negotiates the steep climb of
Knife Edge. (Ryan Krogh) |
