Last week, found Paul trying to deal with an ever growing toothache. Muscle and joint pains are par for the course when thru-hiking, but a toothache, now that’s something taking a zero can’t really fix. Or can it? Believe it or not, there happened to be a dentist in Rangeley, and they miraculously had a cancelation that would enable Paul to be seen on the morning of our zero.

Day 59: (Aug 28) Zero in Rangeley

It rained most of the night and into the morning. Once again, our timing into town has been spot on for us. Laundry. Food resupply. Outfitters for another new pole lower half and general lounging. Oh ya, and a dentist visit.

The prognosis? You’re gonna need a root canal! Now where does one get that done? Back home he’d be referred out to an oral surgeon. Lucky for us, the dentist in Rangeley is also an oral surgeon.  In fact, he’s the only dentist AND oral surgeon within 200 miles or more. What are the chances that…

1. Paul would have a substantial toothache on trail
2. The very town that the ache was becoming unbearable,  there would be a dentist.
3. That he’d get an appointment for the very next day?
4. The dentist is ALSO an oral surgeon, and he once lived in Mission Viejo?
5. There would be a cancelation that would enable Paul to have his root canal the following morning of his first visit?
6. An already full Motel would have another night available?

So many stars had to align for this to happen as it did. Providence. Simply Providence. The only catch was that Paul needed to get to the town Kingsfield, a mere 60 miles or so away, to the only pharmacy in the 100 mile radius for antibiotics to take on trail following the root canal. Lyft would be $285 each way. We asked the motel operators if they knew of any car rental service or trail angels that might help us out. They gave us two numbers. The second number happened to be Bill, a local trail shuttle driver. The day before, when we were in the rain walking the 3 miles back from the IGA with paper bags filled with our resupply food (don’t ask us why we didn’t bring our packs, we seem to keep forgetting to do that). He recognized us as thru-hikers and pulled over to give us a ride to our motel… unsolicited, and there was no charge. Bill told Paul that if he was ready to go, he would “squeeze” him in and get him to Kingsfield like now! All for $60. Providence strikes again.

All we have left to do now is pack and wait for the morning, and hope all goes well, with no complications.

Day 60: (Aug 29) 3.7 mi (1976.8 – 1980.5)

We packed up and hoofed it to the dentist. While Paul was getting his root canal, I updated our blog and IG posts. Everything went well, and an hour and a half later, we were on the curb, hitching back to trail. It was now 1 p.m., so we’d have a short afternoon on trail. Within 3 minutes, we had a ride.

With Paul’s face partially numb, we began a slight climb over sparse roots and rocks and sticky mud. We decided to pull up early when we reached Eddy Pond. Our climb up into The Bigelows could wait till morning.

On the shoreline, there are canoes, paddles, and actually lifejackets available for use to explore and fish the pond. We set up our tent and then spent the rest of the afternoon paddling about the moderately sized pond, adorned with its own island and beaver hut. The water was calm, and the day was simply gorgeous. Near 2 hours later, Rolling Stone and Scout arrived. We quickly caught up as light was waining, as they also wanted a turn in the canoe. They were searching in earnest for their first moose encounter.

Day 61: (Aug 30) 9.8 mi (1980.5 – 1990.3)

This morning, we awoke with essentially 200 miles till Katahdin,  which meant we were nearing the 500 mile mark, and hopefully a robust set of trail legs.

Without fail, the trail began with a morning climb all the way up to Saddleback Mtn (4120 ft.) With a clear day, we were afforded great views of the surrounding area and ski runs below us.

Saddleback led to Saddleback Horn (4041 ft.), whose descent was quite tough, requiring interesting ladders in some places. Who makes these trails? A steep descent generally means another climb, this time to Saddleback Jr. (3655 ft.) At this juncture, we spoke with a SOBO hiker and exchanged trail tread info. Apparently, his idea of “flat” and our idea of flat are vastly different.  He told us that our last 4 miles to the river crossing are “basically flat. You’ll be thinking, am I still in Maine?” We attempted to get him to clarify “flat” in order to hopefully set a realistic mileage for the day.  He further reiterated that there were some “ups” and “downs,” but the tread was “really nice.” The young man, whose pack was enormous, turns out, was a lying son of a bitch! Yes, there were ups and downs, but the tread was ALL MAINE.  ROOTS AND ROCKS… but mostly roots, and, oh ya, some mud.

By the time we dropped down to the river, we were worked. It was all I could do to make the climb up to the old railroad spur road to camp. We crossed a creek that fed into the river and set up camp. If it had been earlier, and the weather was warmer, we would have had the chance to swim, but not today. Some serious cold weather and rain were rolling in, and we needed to plan an exit strategy… just in case.

Day 62: (Aug 31) 18.7 mi (11.59 blue blaze)

We knew crappy cold weather was coming in, and if we were going to get into Stratton, for a resupply before stores closed, we were going to have to get creative.  The AT was set to take us up into rain and howling winds for several climbs that would provide NO VIEWS  whatsoever. Cold wet climb over and down slick wet rocks. We already know that is not a good idea. So, we created an alternate route. And, as I write this even a couple weeks later, it’s been the most fun we’ve had on trail. This is why we thru-hike. Yes, it was longer, but the miles were “easier” in that we were actually hiking. Of course it required some bushwhacking, bog slogging, back tracking, and a pond circumvent,  but what an adventure.  It got cold and spat on us a bit, requiring us to don our rain jackets and gloves, but every time we gazed above us, we saw the mountain above engulfed in a cold, wet, and unrelenting cloud of shear misery. What’s an extra few miles when you’re having fun?!

Once we got to the highway, we walked/hitched our way into Stratton and scored the last room at the White Wolf Inn and Restaurant, when we originally were told by other hikers that everything had been booked up due to weather. Apparently, not everything was booked. Truth be told, if it wasn’t for the bar tender at the pub where we wanted to eat yelling at us in a very gruff and uninviting manner, to leave our packs outside, we never would have gone to the White Wolf…hence our detour to the White Wolf. Thanks for yelling at us, buddy. You made your day… truly! No sleeping outside and packing up a wet tent tonight!