Today was a tale of two hikes: one before and one after lunch. If we hadn’t divided it in two, it would have been one really, really long day.

We started off leaving Goddard Shelter a little after six, and following the AT to the top of Glastenbury Mountain. N made a quick two-purpose trip to the top of the lookout tower – one to try to find a signal for the iPhone to send out yesterday’s journal (something that wouldn’t happen until nine hours later) and two to take in the sunrise from above the treetops. He certainly would have lingered longer on top except he found another hiker still asleep and taking up all the room there.

The rest of the morning was a very fast walk to Story Spring Shelter, 8.9 miles away. Much of the early going was not conducive to fast hiking with lots of rocks and short ups and downs, but we made good time, filtered more water (once again clear from a small spring), had some lunch, and got back on the trail before noon.

The afternoon was a ten mile hike up and over Stratton Mountain, featuring a 1,700′ climb. We had clouds and cool temps, but still worked up a good sweat before being treated to the day’s second great view from a fire tower. [Legend has it this view inspired Benton MacKaye to think about the possibility of a continuous footpath in the eastern US. We could clearly appreciate how he was inspired!] We could see rain clouds approaching from the west, so left before we really wanted to, and headed down to the Stratton Pond Shelter. The predicted storms never materialized, but by the time we arrived, it was a little too late to go swimming in the pond, one of the real pluses of this shelter. Of the nine folks here tonight, we are two of three NOBO thru hikers.

Just a word or two about our natural world… we notice the days are getting a tiny bit shorter while the shadows are getting longer. Warm, early summer gentle breezes have a crisp edginess to them now. The leaves are starting to take on hues of purple and gold. The woods are eerily quiet of birdsong since most of our feathered friends have successfully hatched and fledged their young, have moved on and/or no longer care about our intrusion into their space. When the two of us aren’t chatting, humming or singing, all this ‘new found quiet’ leaves us alone with our thoughts and still dreaming of reaching Katahdin…