We
kept going down further and further, and it seemed like more than 0.2 miles. Knowing
we’d have to climb back up again, I was hoping it wouldn’t seem this far. But
finally the trail evened out some and we came across the trail sign that pointed
to the campsite. Next to the trail was a small spring-fed brook; this was the
water source for the campsite.
We
crossed the brook and walked up the spur trail toward the campsite. The trail
was mostly uphill but finally leveled off, and we reached the large tent platform
where the caretaker’s tent is normally set up during the summer and early fall.
It looked kind of lonely without the huge wall tent on it. Just around a curve
in the trail, we came to the shelter, a long open-faced brown-stained log building
with a tar paper-covered roof. It smelled faintly of creosote, which helps keep
the wood from rotting. It was kind of a reassuring campy odor that reminded me
of Boy Scout camp years ago.
After
checking out the shelter, we looked around at the rest of the tent platforms,
which are pretty similar to the platforms at Guyot
Campsite where we stayed in August of 1999. In contrast to Guyot, however,
Garfield Ridge Campsite is much more level, and the platforms aren’t built in
a terraced fashion.
Returning
to the shelter once again, we sat down to have a snack. No peanuts for Muffin
this time though! While sitting on the steps of the shelter, I looked over at
the log chair in back of me and at the plastic packet with books in it. At first
I had assumed that someone had left it there while they were out for the day and
would return to pick it up. After thinking about it for a while, I decided that
it might just be left there for anyone who happened to be staying at the shelter,
so I decided to open it and find out.
It
turned out to be a couple of novels for reading material and the 2000 logbook
for the campsite. It began with an entry by the caretaker at the beginning of
the season letting readers know what the book was for and welcoming them to the
campsite. That was followed by pages of entries from people who had been there.
Many of the writers had stayed overnight; some were thru-hikers on their way from
Georgia to Maine. Others had stopped in to get out of the rain, or just to sit
and eat a snack like I did. A couple of them seemed to be from other countries.
Many had trail names or logos. One writer had come upon the shelter by chance
in a storm, and was thankful for the respite and dry roof. |
The
Garfield Ridge Campsite Spur Trail. Although it felt a bit further down the mountain
from the Garfield Trail junction than the mere 0.2 miles and 300 ft that it was,
I was glad we stopped here to take a look. |
|
