[Journal entry for July 20, 2013; Old Speck Mountain, Grafton Notch State Park, Maine]. Old Speck Mountain (elevation 4170 ft) is a prominent peak on the west side of Grafton Notch, a glacial valley in Oxford County in western Maine. The peak is reached via the Appalachian Trail (AT, blazed in white), which crosses Route 26 in Grafton Notch State Park.

I spent the night at Stony Brook Recreation campground off of Route 2 in Hanover Maine, about twenty miles south of Grafton Notch. I arose at about 6:30AM, ate at breakfast of scrambled eggs and English muffins, packed up and headed up Route 26. I signed in and paid my two dollar fee at the trailhead parking lot, which is off the west side of Route 26 in the state park. I took only a day pack with water, a bit of food and a rain jacket. The morning – it was now 7:45 AM - was overcast and very muggy.

I had walked partway up the mountain during December 2006* and so was familiar with the trail, or at least its beginning. It is rocky, with many crude stone staircases, and heads steeply uphill. The rock here is gneiss intruded by a variety of plutonic rocks, including granites and pegmatites. The forest is not especially tall but it is very dense, with close packed conifers. The forest floor is very damp and mossy, with abundant fern. Initially, the trail parallels a small stream, crossing it twice and passing by its bank several more times. Several of these spots have waterfalls; one is perhaps fifty feet high but the rest, though pretty, are more modest. The upper parts of the stream run over smooth rock pavement.

After about an hour of hiking, I reach a more open area of rock ledges with nice views to the east. The grade of the trail decreases as it follows a ridge southward. One high spot offers a view to the summit. I have been hiking two hours and am disappointed that it still looks far off. I console myself by noting that my speed had picked up, now that the trail is not so steep. Rain begins to fall, so I don my raincoat, but take it off ten minutes later, after the shower passes. After about another hour I reach a final steep section, a few hundred yards in length. Its top is open, with very nice views to the east. A sign at a trail intersection just past its top informs me that the summit is a mere 0.3 miles away.

I reach the summit at 11AM, the hike having taken me about three and quarter hours. The summit is mostly wooded, though an open area with a rock cairn allows a view to the east. Fortunately, the summit also includes an observation tower, which provides a much better view. I climb to the top, taking a steel ladder to a wooden platform perhaps fifty feet above ground level. Though the day is still overcast, the sky has brightened a bit and I am treated to a three hundred sixty degree panoramic view of Grafton Notch and all the surrounding mountains. I do, indeed, seem to be at the local high point; all the surrounding hilltops are substantially lower than Old Speck. As I climb back down, I see that an inscription on one of the metal girders of the tower:

Field Engin. Andy Haskell + Ron Hunt + Matt Hodgson welded by Ed Bennett

I the head back down the mountain. I have to pick my way carefully down damp rock ledges. My boots lose their grip on smooth ledge and I skid onto my backside, scraping up my elbow in the process. I go more slowly after that. About halfway down, at one of the overlooks, I chat with a fellow hiker. He has a dog outfitted with side bags. The dog is stretched out peacefully on a rock ledge, enjoying a few moments of sun provided by an open patch of sky. About two thirds of the way down, I pass a family heading up, including a boy, ten or twelve years old. He is growing tired and impatient. I do not tell him that he is less than halfway to the summit, but rather pass on to him the advice given to me, many years ago, by an old lady who overtook me while I was struggling up the Kaibab Trail in Grand Canyon National Park: take small steps – one foot not even fully past the other – but steadily, and you will eventually get to the top.

I climbed down into the stream valley to admire the largest of the waterfalls. The rock at the bottom is a smooth and slippery rock pavement, so (still nursing my elbow) I did no exploration. I could see an inviting pool a little downhill from the falls, but declined to visit it.

I reached the parking lot at about 1:45 PM, the round trip having taken almost exactly six hours.

* www.ldeo.columbia.edu/users/menke/slides/grafton06/journal.html