Less than a mile up the trail and the space between my shoulder blades already aches. I’m regretting the overpriced mini tube of sunblock, which the dense trees and clouds have rendered unnecessary, the extra layer I threw in at the last minute, and my insistence on healthful foods that caused me to pack two pounds of green beans and carrots fresh from the garden, a jar of sunflower seed butter, and three loaves of German bread the size, shape, and weight of bricks.

My last backpacking trip, thirteen years ago, involved a three-mile hike to nearby Chimney Pond, carrying my oldest son in a front pack, while my last major trip was a seventy-mile honeymoon hike in Colorado two years earlier. The only times I’ve lugged a backpack this heavy since then, it held a toddler. I decide to be grateful that the contents of my pack are not pulling my hair or throwing sippy cups onto the trail that we have to backtrack to retrieve.

Baxter State Park Backpacking

My nine-year-old son Zephyr trudges ahead of me, sliding his pack straps to his elbows, complaining that his arms are falling asleep. After a while, we meet Zephyr’s twin brother, Emmet, sitting in the middle of the trail eating GORP with my friend Brett. Brett heads up the trail while Zephyr and I join Emmet for a rest. I’ve always hiked like the tortoise, slow and steady, catching up to my companions as they finish their breaks, so this position of sweeper suits me. I know that my husband, Curry, is miles ahead with my thirteen-year-old son, Milo, and Brett’s son, Gabe.

We finish our snack, shoulder our packs, and make our way across boulders that dot a stream, but all too soon Emmet and Zephyr complain of being tired again. We stop and I hand them each a meat stick and gnaw on my own vegetarian jerky. There are many things I want my kids to get out of this trip – the experience of being in wilderness, close contact with nature, time with their parents free of daily distractions, the satisfaction of succeeding at a physically demanding experience – but my main goal is a selfish one. I want them to have a good time because I have plans for a much bigger trip next summer. So I let them take all the breaks they want and, after they finish their meat sticks, I hand them each a lollipop.

We near Whidden Pond, our only real chance for a view of Katahdin, the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail and centerpiece of Baxter State Park, covering ground but with frequent breaks and the our morning continues like this, stop-and-start. “Did this used to be a stream?” Emmet asks of the rock-and root-studded trail that makes for slow going. I take pictures of bunch berries and mushrooms and try to keep the boys happy and comfortable. As we approach noon, I get irritated that Curry hasn’t stopped to wait for us. While we both have lunch food in our packs, it’s not evenly divided, and I’m afraid if we stop to eat we’ll fall even farther behind. We finally catch up to the group at the fork with the Wassataquoik Stream Trail at about one in the afternoon, three-point-three miles up the trail and two-and-a-half hours after we started.

Emmet, Zephyr, and I sit down for crackers and cheese and I try to foist green beans and carrots on everyone. Milo offers to carry some of my weight, so I stuff the lunch bag in his pack, and we refill our water bottles at the stream and move on up the trail. Energized from lunch, Emmet and Zephyr hike ahead, while I drift to the back. When I reach Wassataquoik Stream, the boys have already forded and reassembled on the other side. Milo and Gabe come back across, offering assistance to Brett and me as we wade the thigh-deep water. Once across, everyone surges ahead and I hike alone until I meet Emmet on a stretch of bog bridges that leads to the campground, where he wades in the lush sphagnum moss, picking blueberries from the laden bushes along the trail.

Eventually we make it to camp and, while the adults busy themselves starting dinner, the boys go off exploring. After a few minutes, Emmet comes running back, “A moose!” he yells. “A real moose.” We tend to the macaroni and cheese in camp and settle in for the night.

Day 2: Russell Pond to Wassataquoik Lake

I start the morning with a swim. Russell Pond is shallow with a mucky bottom, and everyone else refuses to go in because they think there are leeches, but the water is refreshing and I’m happy to take any opportunity to swim. After a leisurely breakfast, we set out for Wassataquoik Lake.

Russell Pond is situated somewhat centrally between the Katahdin area and South Branch Pond and can be just one stop in a multi-day backpacking trip that includes other campgrounds and lean-to sites, but we have chosen to use it as a base camp and take day trips to nearby destinations. Curry carries our lunch and water in a daypack and I carry a stuff sack with my swimming suit, pack towels, bug repellent, and sunblock. The boys return to their usual unencumbered hiking mode and we all move along the trail more quickly.

Milo hikes behind me for a time, right on my heels, but when I ask him if he wants to pass, he demurs. He tells me he’s having fun and I ask if it’s easier today, without a pack.

“I forgot I even had a pack on,” he says.
“You’re made for this,” I say.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re a born hiker.”
“I thought I was made to sit around playing guitar.”
“Can’t you be both?” I ask.

Wassataquoik Lake is long and deep, surrounded by mountains. We spread out on the small gravel beach, swim in the clear water, and eat lunch while the kids chase frogs and take turns paddling a kayak. After lunch, we canoe up the shore to the trail to Green Falls. A short climb leads us to a stunning cascade over the face of a moss-covered rock. After exploring the falls, we paddle back down the lake and hike back to our campsite, stopping along the way for yet another swim at Deep Pond.

In the evening, I watch from the big rock on the shore below our campsite as Curry and Zephyr take a canoe out so that Zephyr can try out the fly rod he packed in. He appears to have gotten the hang of casting the line, but the fish don’t bite. Instead I see them leap out of the water near my rock, snapping at big dragonflies that patrol the pond’s surface.

Day 3: Russell Pond to Lookout Ledges and Grand Falls

I wake to the sound of a loon. Russell Pond’s campsites are spaced well away from each other, nestled in trees, shrubs, and ferns, so that we barely notice other campers and hear only the sounds of frogs at night and birdsong during the day. Curry and Zephyr are already out on the pond, fly-fishing, again with no luck. Curry is disappointed that no one wanted to make the nine-mile hike to Baxter Peak (Katahdin’s high point), or even the more modest seven-mile hike to Hamlin Peak. I sympathize with his desire to get above tree line, but Emmet and Zephyr are on the verge of mutiny. “I’m not hiking more than three miles,” Zephyr declares and Emmet has to be coaxed out of his pajamas and the lean-to with lollipops.

Emmet and I fall to the back of the pack as we set out on the morning’s hike to Lookout Ledges. “Whoever invented hiking for fun had a really bad idea,” he says as we climb up through mossy boulders, bracken fern, spruce trees, and blueberry bushes. I remind him about all the fun things on this trip – seeing the moose, picking blueberries, talking to me as we hike without getting interrupted by his brothers – and give him another lollipop.

At the Ledges, massive boulders that poke above the trees and give a view of distant, blue-tinged mountains, we eat an early lunch and the boys leap back and forth over gaps between the rocks, then we make our way back down the trail. When we reach the trail juncture, Curry, Milo, and Gabe head toward Grand Falls, while the rest of us return to the campground. Emmet and Zephyr stop to catch frogs at the bridge over the inlet to Russell Pond while a moose noses her way through the brush nearby, indifferent to our presence.

Back in the campground, I take another swim before helping Zephyr and Emmet ease a canoe into the water. Russell Pond is the perfect size for two nine-year-olds to work on their paddling skills without much danger of getting themselves into trouble. After a while, Brett joins them in the boat and they explore the farthest reaches of the pond while I rest in the sun.

Curry, Milo, and Gabe return from Grand Falls just before dinner. On their hike, they checked out Inscription Rock and other artifacts of New City and Baxter’s logging history, climbed down into a deep gorge to take a dip in the cold, clear waters of Wassataquoik Stream, and looped back via the Ledge Falls and Wassataquoik Stream Trails. They look happy and tired, satisfied with their day’s adventures even if they didn’t climb Katahdin.

Day 4: Russell Pond to Roaring Brook via Wassataquoik Stream Trail

It starts to rain just as we leave the campground. For a while, we hike together as a family, Curry and me singing Kenny Rogers’ “The Gambler,” which has been stuck in my head since Milo taught the other kids to play poker the second night. As we drift apart, I listen to the sounds of raindrops on the trees and watch the boys’ red-sleeved arms swing at the sides of their green packs, everything brightened by the glistening rain. Ahead of us, we have two stream crossings and miles of wet, soppy trail. But I feel good – happy – as if I’ve woken up from the hiker’s version of “The Ten-Year Nap.” This is who I am. This is where I’m supposed to be, out in the wild, moving under the power of my own feet, close to nature, with those dearest to me.

After the stream crossings, the group moves ahead while Emmet and I pull up the rear again. I listen to him chatter about movies, books, his friends, and Pokémon. The sun comes out in time for lunch. We make it to the trailhead in an hour-and-a-half less than it took us to hike in. Maybe because the rain cuts back on breaks. Maybe because our packs are lighter without food. Or maybe because we’ve got our trail legs under us now, and we’re ready for another adventure. Maybe we’re even ready for the big hike I have planned for next summer.

Lightening Up a Family of Five

A lot has changed in the backpacking world in the last fifteen years, and for this trip I needed to catch up with the lightweight movement, not only because my hip bones groaned at the thought of hoisting my old internal frame pack, but also because Curry and I would carry the majority of supplies for five people. Plus I wanted to keep the kids happy by making their loads as light as possible. Here’s what we took along.

Packs

Emmet and Zephyr carried small Gossamer Gear G4 packs, with the hip belts taken in four inches, Curry and I carried the same packs in medium, and Milo had an Equinox Ltd. ARAS Eagle.

Shelter

We reserved a lean-to, saving the weight of a tent, but exposing ourselves to the nightly whine of mosquitoes.

Sleep

We used Therm-a-Rest foam pads and brought the sleeping bags we already had – LL Bean down and kids’ synthetic mummies.

Kitchen

We took along our old, reliable MSR WhisperLite, one liter of fuel, and a two-quart stainless steel pot, titanium bowls, and bamboo spoons and tea cups.

Water

We drank from disposable water bottles, used a SteriPEN Adventurer Opti, and took along a milk jug with part of the top cut off, which we used for scooping water and holding our water as we purified it as well as for other camp tasks.

Clothes

We each wore a t-shirt and a pair of convertible nylon pants, that for the boys doubled as swim trunks (I brought a swimsuit), and carried a fleece, long underwear, extra socks and underwear, a warm hat and gloves, a vest, and rain gear.

Footwear

Emmet and Zephyr wore running shoes, I wore trail runners, Milo wore a pair of light hiking boots and Curry wore his ancient Limmers. The boys and I carried Crocs for the water crossings, while Curry took along Keen sandals.

Food

In addition to green beans, carrots, sun butter, and brown bread, we took raw broccoli and whole wheat macaroni and cheese, brown rice and Indian dinner pouches, multigrain hot cereal with butter, milk powder, and freeze-dried fruit, whole wheat crackers, cheese, trail mix (dubbed “glop” by Zephyr), granola, and plenty of chocolate.

Extras

We also carried the usual miscellaneous items: first aid kit kit, toiletries, paracord, pocket knives. I put cards and comic books in the boys’ packs and brought a book to read to them and one for myself, as well as a small journal and a point-and-shoot camera. Our pack weight (with food) – 30 lbs. (Curry), 26 lbs. (me), 16 lbs. (Milo), 13 lbs. (Emmet), 12 lbs. (Zephyr) – was not ultralight, but averaged less than twenty pounds per person and was much more pleasant than the heavy days of hiking yore. Every time I saw a hiker bowed under the weight of a loaded pack, I felt convinced that lightening up is the path to more enjoyable backpacking, and I’m going to continue shaving pounds off our packs.

Baxter State Park offers quintessential Maine scenery at nearly every turn.

Need to Know

Information

Reservations are required for campsites in the park. Information available here.

Getting There

The south entrance to Baxter State Park is located about three-and-a-half hours north of Augusta, outside the town of Millinocket. Once in the park, it’s another half-hour drive to Roaring Brook Campground and the Russell Pond Trailhead.

Best Time to Go

People enjoy Baxter State Park year-round, but I prefer August and September, when the bugs are fewer and the chance of rain (slightly) lower.

Maps

The National Geographic Trails Illustrated Baxter State Park map covers the park.

Guidebooks

Fifty Hikes in the Maine Mountains by Cloe Chunn, the Appalachian Mountain Club’s Maine Mountain Guide (includes map) and Hiking Maine's Baxter State Park, a Falcon Guide.

Editor's Note: This article by contributor Andrea Lani originally appeared in Issue 19 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.