NRCM member Wendy Weiger of Greenville Junction, Maine, shares two incredible photos from a recent hike up Katahdin. Please enjoy Wendy’s words and images, Katahdin Dawn, as this week’s My Maine This Week feature.
Wendy writes:
“Katahdin is an ancient Penobscot word, meaning “greatest mountain.” My understanding, from a presentation by Tribal Historian James Francis, is that the name refers not to the mountain’s physical size, but to its spiritual essence. From my personal experience, I can say that Katahdin feels different to me from any other place I have ever been. On its heights, I feel I’m suspended between heaven and earth, perched on the threshold between the everyday world and infinity.
In the wee hours of September 4, I awoke in the Chimney Pond bunkhouse and scrambled up the Saddle Slide in the dark. When I reached the Saddle between Baxter and Hamlin Peaks, it was still night. I lay back on a flat rock, gazing up at the sky. The Milky Way arched overhead. Above Hamlin, the Big Dipper pointed to the North Star. Orion the Hunter strode above Baxter Peak. Venus shone in the east. An undercast had formed. Katahdin was an island of rock rising above an ocean of clouds. As I continued on toward Baxter Peak, a reddish glow appeared above the eastern horizon, faint at first. The color intensified into an orange streak. By the time I reached the summit, the stars were fading.
I took this photo at 5:19 AM. The summit cairn is in the foreground. If you look closely, you can see Venus, a white point of light in the dark sky above and to the left.
At 5:53 AM, the first glimmer of the sun’s disc appeared above the sea of clouds that covered the land below. Over the next four minutes, the sun emerged in its full glory. By then, I had been sitting nearly motionless on the breezy summit for three quarters of an hour, and my body craved the warmth of its rays. I lingered on the peak for another hour or so, basking in the light of the new day.
I had expected that, after my short sleep and nocturnal ascent, I would want to descend back to Chimney Pond to rest. To my surprise, I felt energized. I had a whole beautiful day ahead of me, and I couldn’t bear to leave the heights just yet. Hamlin Peak beckoned from the other side of the Saddle, so off I went for another climb.
From Hamlin, I slowly worked my way down a rocky ridge to Chimney Pond, where I stretched out on the shore and looked up at the route I had just traveled. Back at the bunkhouse, I spent a pleasant evening in the fellowship of other hikers, chatting about our adventures. At last, after darkness fell, I allowed sleep to claim me. It had been a magical day.”
