Snoring on Katahdin

Snoring decibels matter. Take a recent camping trip with our boys. It started over the phone when our thirty-two year old son, Luke, who lives in Maine, told us, “I’m climbing Katahdin at the end of September and I think Adam [Luke’s thirty-five year old brother] is coming too.”

“I’m in,” I said not waiting for an invitation.

“Sure, great! Dad, what do you think? Are you in?”

“Uhm yeah, I’m up for it. I just don’t know if my knees are.”

John and I agreed we would hike as far as his knees would allow. He googled our road trip to Baxter State Park in northern Maine and learned we could cut two hours off our route each way if we went through Canada. Fortunately we had recently renewed our passports. 

John is the driver and I am the rider, writing away on my laptop until he says, “Beck!” Then I look up to catch the worthwhile vista or unusual sight.

We spent the night outside of Quebec City and the next day, we were back in the states. We left the interstate for secondary then local roads and closer to the Maine border, we grew concerned to find ourselves on a dirt road when a uniformed border patrolman, walked out of his check station and said, “I don’t think you want to be on this forty mile-long logging road. Where are you going?” 

So much for our GPS confidence. It sent us on still another dirt road into the hinterlands before we finally found Camp Nesowadnehunk. There we met a wiry, seventy-year old ranger, Betsy, who lives alone in a cabin from May to October. She laughed as she told us “so many hikers go online, read the minimal amount, figure they don’t need the details before they get here, book a lean-to, and when they arrive say, ‘What? No potable water available? No flush toilets? Where’s the electricity to plug in my cell phone?’” 

“There are a lot of blueberries around here,” she told us. “Feel free to pick them but know the bears are picking them too. Do not leave any food outside of your cars. Spit your toothpaste into your garbage bag because if you spit on the ground, that smell will attract animals. It’ll be cold tonight. It got down to 29 this morning. Be sure to be in the parking lot to head up Katahdin by 7:00 a.m. because they close the gate to hikers after that. That’s how they control the number of people who climb each day. To get there by 7:00, you have to leave this campsite by 5:30.” 

“You can buy firewood outside for three dollars a bundle. Just put your money in the slot out there,” she added as she pointed outdoors. We bought two bundles. 

Adam and Luke arrived about a half hour later. They got to hear Betsy’s spiel and she loaned Adam a headlamp for which he made a generous donation.

After my family and I made camp, we stood around our campfire watching the flames dance under the sirloin steaks. 

“Guys, I only have one request,” I said.

“Yeah right.” 

“Likely story.” 

“No, I mean it. This is all I’m asking during our time together. Please wear nose-strips to bed so we can all get a good night’s sleep. I brought one for each of you for each night.” 

“Mom, they don’t work. I’ve tried and Anya said I still snore,” Adam said.

“Well, it’ll reduce your snoring at least.” 

“Why don’t you use earplugs instead?” Luke asked. 

“Come on, Luke it’s like a smoker. The onus is on them to keep other people’s air free from their smoke.” 

“I’m asleep. It’s not the same. I’m not going to wear one.” 

John squeezed my shoulder with a “Give it up. You tried,” message. I let it go. 

We ate our dinner under the full moon and amid lots of laughs. I was the first one to hit the sack. In the lean-to when I crawled into my down sleeping bag wearing long underwear, a hat and mittens, it took quite a while for my bag to fill with my body heat. I was glad when John settled in next to me. His heat helped warm me and the air in the queen air-mattress under us. Eventually, Luke crawled into his bag on a mound of Styrofoam next to John. 

Adam opted to sleep on the ground. I looked out to see a chair lying sideways over his head as a helmet from bears? 

“Nope, protection from dew. It was Dad’s idea.” Adam said. 

Although John wore his nose strip, I still heard his soft snoring while Adam sawed away over by the dying campfire. When Luke’s snoring kicked in, John nudged him and said, “Luke, you’re snoring.” Luke grumbled, “Thanks a lot for waking me. It took forever to get to sleep.” 

Luke got up at 3:00 a.m., lit the fire and heated water for coffee. We all joined him by 3:30 to nibble granola bars. I made p.b. and j. sandwiches to eat on our way to the trailhead. We headed out by 4:30 and were in Roaring Brook’s parking lot before dawn’s break to begin our 3.3 mile climb up to the half-way point at Chimney Pond.

It was fun bantering with the kids and competitively scurrying past whoever was in front of me, to take the lead. Unfortunately it was slow going for John, who was wearing new boots which he’d only partially broken in. He used poles to help take the strain off his knees but they were unhappy and letting him know it. 

We arrived at Chimney Pond by 9:00 a.m. where we wolfed the lunch that Adam had prepared of ham and cheese sandwiches, granola and apples. John, not confident about going another nine hours on his sore knees, suggested he and I head down and check out Sandy Stream Pond where moose are often spotted. 

To summit Katahdin’s 5,269 feet, Luke and Adam elected to take Cathedral Trail – a strenuous three hour, hand-over-foot climb up a rockslide of boulders with gravel at the top that shifted under their feet. Then they planned to descend along the narrow and dangerous mile-long Knife Edge and take the Helon Trail back to Roaring Brook. 

When our kids got safely off the mountain, we enjoyed sharing our tales with one another around the fire that evening. 

Rain was in the forecast so John and I squeezed our mattress into the back of Adam’s SUV where we slept comfortably and our sons shared the lean-to.

In the morning while breaking camp, I asked Adam, “How did you sleep?” 

“Mom, Luke’s snoring was amazing. He made sounds I’ve never heard. At one point, he held a high note for so long I couldn’t believe it. I told him he should see a doctor!”

Photo by John O'Neill

“Could you sleep at all?”

“Are you kidding? Not one bit.”

I refrained from asking Adam if he wished Luke had worn a nose-strip.

In the rain we left the park and drove to a recommended restaurant for breakfast. There in the booth with my husband and our two sons over plates piled with eggs, potatoes and toast I was flooded with love. As for the snoring? Eh. I was too busy adoring my family for it to matter.