What a difference it makes to spend a night in the woods, especially when the overnight accommodations are just 10 minutes from the house. Last night Auntie Mame, V8, Jody, and I hiked into Camden Hills State park, where we experienced a mostly comfortable evening in most dilapidated of the two crumbing lean-tos up at the top of Bald Rock mountain.
We were met in the Stevens Corner parking lot by none other than the Guthook family, which included Pappa and Momma as well as the Guthook himself.
Guthooks
Guthook writes an excellent bog on ultralight backpacking, and we have hiked together, off and on, in the Midcoast Maine area since we both connected around hiking the Pacific Crest Trail in 2010.
Once on top, we set up at the lower shelter, after we spotted a serious skull and crossbones flag guarding the encampment in the upper lean-to. There was a green tent inside that housed a young couple up from Massachusetts who were taking a low cost, no frills, three-day vacation in Camden town.
The ‘Hooks went back home, but we had supper to cook and bedrolls to unfurl.
The impetus for the camp out was April’s full moon, which popped up over Penobscot Bay at 7:30 PM. We couldn’t have been a better night, or found a better encampment to view the moonrise.
Moonrise
In summer, you can’t see much of the Bay from the lower shelter, due to the leaf cover, but with no foliage yet appearing on the bare brushy sticks in front of the shelter, we were able to lay in our sleeping bags and view the incredibly bright orb climbing across the chilly sky.
The moon increased in brightness as it rose.
Mame and I enjoyed juicy cheeseburgers that she grilled up on the fire pit in front of the lean-to. It was remarkable how much really dry wood was so close to the shelter, primarily due to the fact that so few people camp there.
I was concerned that the Red Flag open burning warning for coastal Maine would negate the campfire, but the Park ranger assured me that a reasonable fire in the provided pit would be allowed.
In the morning, we brewed up a quick coffee, before we headed up to the Hide Away Diner for breakfast.
So, for a grand total of $6, we had the lean-to and the whole top of Bald Rock to ourselves, to view a glorious light show that can’t be duplicated by man.
FSTPKR: BLC to the Bering Sea.—-< Click. Now!
You absolutely have to check out what Krudmeister is up to this season. It is practically inconceivable to me that someone has both the interest and the skills to undertake a solo excursion that combines bicycling to Alaska from Reno, then backpacking the Chilkoot Trail out of Skagway, then assembling a kayak and following traversing the length of the Yukon River, all the way to the Bering Sea! What is even more inconceivable is that in this day and age, there will probably be no one who will read about Krud’s adventure in the sport section of a newspaper, where we are exposed to the daily whining of multimillion dollar base and basketball stars.
Krud is one of my virtual friends. He figured into a couple of my gear acquisitions. I came to know him when he and Scott Williamson broke the Pacific Crest Trail Speed record, I think in 2006. I went to my local Patagonia outlet and showed them his blog. He was and maybe still is a Patagonia customer service employee. He was trumping up their Houdini jacket, and one of the employees gave me one, that I used on my PCT and Long Trail thru hikes. It is still as good as new.
Then he posted a picture of some wildly garish New Balance shoes that I tracked down through my brother Roy, who works for the company. They are a product that is sold in Japan.
I though of Krudmeister yesterday when I was aglow with the shoes on my birthday.
Krud, want a pair to wear when you get back?
I was pleased that another of the Kickstarter projects that I pledged to–> luminAID, reached full funding. The initial product run had one shipped to me a couple of weeks ago. Here’s what I got:
The world’s first illuminated pillow- and while not specifically marketed to backpackers, I think it is going to work as a sleeping pillow.
First of all, it is just 3 ounces, complete with solar charger. Nothing could be simpler than to operate this unique product. You place it in the sun, and it charges, indicated by a red LED. There is just one button, which has off, low, and high settings. How about a waterproof lantern that can even float when inflated? The unit fully charges in 5 hours of sunlight, and provides 4 hours of light on the High setting and 6 hours of light on Low. The battery is reported to last for 800 charge cycles, and most astoundingly, holds a full charge for 6 months!
The project itself funded with many $25 donations, and for that $$ you received your own light and also paid for a light to be shipped to a third world country. Online sales are coming soon–> luminAID’s mailing list will keep you updated.
I plan to write a report on how this light fared on my 2 night camping trip in Camden Hills State Park this upcoming weekend.
A truly enjoyable and very informative read from my friend Joe. I truly appreciate the time he spent on this entry. Please take advantage of the numerous hotlinked references.
Troop 4 Marlboro, Algonquin Council B.S.A., Camp Resolute
I have been a hiker and backpacker all my life, ever since Boy Scouts. Growing up, my mom generally refused to let us ever play inside the house, even in winter. “So what if it’s cold, put on some mittens and your winter boots and go outside and play!” and I vividly recall games the neighborhood boys would play in the woods around our house or on the nearby golf course. Usually some variation of Capture The Flag.
As a youthful prank, my friend Kenny Paul and I once threw some firecrackers at the house of a neighbor boy. (Yes, it was us – the Statute of Limitations has run out, and besides, I think I was eleven years old.) The boy’s mom called the police. Ken was the star of the crosscountry team, and when the cruiser pulled up with blue lights blinking, I was surprised that I could keep up with him. Two cruisers spent some time in our neighborhood while Kenny and I spent the next three hours eluding them in an apple orchard. hmmmmm……. Later this inspired me to join the cross country team. I ran the the half mile in spring track. (2:14 was my personal best, if you really must know).
Kenny recently retired from his position as an officer in the United States Marine Corps, and he still is a runner. My older brother finally rediscovered his whereabouts after thirty years. Ken was also an excellent baseball pitcher. Once while on a training run though the neighborhood, a dog came out to chase. Kenny picked up a rock and beaned the dog from fifty feet away, knocking it unconscious. What coordination. I laughed when he told me his USMC specialty was artillery. He spent his adult life throwing stuff at people…..
Misery in the Great Outdoors
Camping with the Boy Scouts included a lot of miserable experiences amidst the fun. I never cooked for myself at home before going camping and trying it there. Baking my first potato in a campfire was half-burnt/half-raw, for example, and one memorable hike during a winter weekend, our patrol ploughed our way through thighdeep snow for three miles on a hike to nowhere. Ultimately I got Eagle Scout. why? mainly because my older brother had done it, and I looked up to him ( still do!).
Other experiences
To answer the specific question, It’s hard for me to separate hiking from Boy Scouts, in terms of what I learned. Don’t disrespect the Boy Scouts – I have some philosophical differences with their current leadership, over the ir policy toward gay persons and atheists (each of which are just fine with me) but overall the Boy Scouts fill an important need. Paul Theroux summed it up for me when he described his experience with the Boy Scouts.
Taking a side trail
During the time I was in Maine I did all the outdoorsy stuff – cross country ski, canoe ( the Allagash and Upper West Branch of the Penobscot) , hike, telemark, etc. I climbed Mt Washington and Katahdin in wintertime more than once…. but by comparison, the last few years in Hawaii I went through a period of not doing nearly much adventure-type stuff in the outdoors. Oh well, yeah, I was spending every summer time in rural Nepal teaching with Christian Medical Missionaries and taking day hikes, doing the Asian Travel thing (no, I did not climb Everest at any time…….that’s the usual Nepal question I get from fellow backpackers…) and here in Hawaii I was going to the beach (Sandy’s) and day hiking… but .. it wasn’t the Real Thing. And the weather here is so nice that it’s missing an element …….
Passing it on
I always took my kids on outdoorsy adventures. Glad to have two daughters because then the pressure was off and I knew I would never have to be an adult scout leader. I was saved from having to spend any more weekends with bunches of eleven-year-old boys. (thank you God!) but taught both my girls all the skills anyway. Yes, both my kids learned to make a fire, paddle a canoe, predict the weather by looking at the clouds, and read a topo map. When they were six and eight, we took them on a week long canoe camping trip, retracing Thoreau’s path on the Upper West Branch of the Penobscot River in Maine. When the younger one announced her intention to do a through-hike of the Appalachian Trail in 2010, I was reminded of long-ago solemn promise made at a campfire, that I would join her on that quest, should the day ever come.
My 2010 hike
When the summons to hike long-distance came, I was old. And fat. But this served as a personal challenge to get into enough shape to be a respectable hiking buddy. And that’s where the learning began again. In order to keep up with Whoopie Pie, I decided I would do my own solo hike for a few hundred miles and get in shape before hand. And besides, she didn’t want to do the whole thing with me, she was going to hike her own hike. So in May I started off in the hundred or so miles that traverse Massachusetts, averaging eight miles a day through the Berkshires. A few days to recuperate and restarted in Vermont, about two hundred miles through the Green Mountains and into New Hampshire, by this time averaging eleven miles a day. Another hundred through Shenandoah National Park, and finally co-hiked with Whoopie Pie. By the end of the summer I was not so fat; and I learned that I was not so old, either. I hiked 475 miles in that summer.
Highlights
I think most writers focus on the physical challenge of doing this, but most of the highlights for me were a bit of the meditative variety, and a good hike serves as a daydream for a long time afterwards. A variety of mountaintops in seven states. Hearing loons on a pond on Vermont, for the first time in five years. The night at the Tom Leonard Lean-to listening to nesting hoot owls. Cleaning the dead leaves from a mountain spring, and the wonderment of finding a fist-sized jellylike clump of frog’s eggs. The evening Julie and lay in our bunks in a cabin in Vermont listening to the soft conversations of other hikers during six days of cold rain in the Green Mountains. The “problem bear” at Shenandoah when I was the only person in the lean-to that night. Having heatstroke on two occasions. The bedazzlement of thousands of butterflies, a cloud of butterflies, in a dewy meadow of wildflowers in Shenandoah National Park. Being sick with bronchitis and experiencing SVT overnight after taking cough medicine, wondering how I would get evacuated from such a remote place. Walking out on my own the next morning.
The people who comprise the subculture of the Trail are always a highlight, and I learn a lot from them. One day’s hike sticks out. I got to the Fire Warden’s cabin at Smart’s Mountain New Hampshire at the end of a fourteen mile day, knowing for the last five miles that I needed to beat an oncoming thunderstorm. The approach from the south is very steep, with iron rungs forming a sort of ladder over the steepest sections. The rain pelted down, forming a waterfall on the trail as I ascended. At one point my heart sank when the clouds parted and I realized I was nowhere as close as I thought I was, darkness was approaching and I needed to skedaddle. Lightning was hitting less than a half mile away as I got above timberline, dashing the last half mile like a frenzied animal.
To get there I had elected to hop past the Trapper John leanto, but to my surprise I was passed from behind at the last minute by Roaring Lion and Snow White, two through-hikers who had hopped past two leantos, and come from six miles even further south than me that day. One other guy was already there. The cabin smelled of dead porcupine but the roof was intact. RL, SW, and I each got out of our clothes and did what all long distance hikers do – get into the dry sleeping bag, eat something, and regain some strength. As we lay there we agreed that the lightning was – exciting.
Everything I learned in Boy Scouts told me not to do what I just did.
Then we had dinner, and the usual bull session as we got to know each other. We shared that special comraderie of people who know that what they just did, (hiking uphill into a lightning storm,) was crazy; and yet, who know they are also in the company of others equally crazy.
Best summed in a saying
A friend is somebody who will bail you out of jail. A best friend is somebody who in handcuffed on the bench next to you saying “man, that was awesome”
Eric Hansen catches some criticism on his trip preparation for this one. Also featuring two of my PCT thru-hiking buddies, Bear and Sparkles, who are living the dream up here.
Late yesterday afternoon BI’s leg busted through the thin ice near the water lead while he was chipping a hole through the ice for drinking and cooking. It submerged up past his knee, so his mukluk, felt liner, sock, long underwear, and pant leg were saturated with icy cold water. I had him kneel in some powder snow and we pressed it against his leg, wicking off as much of the moisture as we could.
This morning we fired up the stove around 7 AM and kept the heat going up but the wet footwear was still not dry. BI had left his rubber boots in the car, which would have been his walking option, so our plans changed a bit. He suggested that we use the day to head upriver to scout out a possible campsite for tomorrow night. With a lunch, axe, snowshoes, and a saw we could move much quicker than we would with loaded toboggans. We hoped to pack down a tent space and even prepare the firewood for an easy arrival afternoon tomorrow. I let BI use my rubber boots until I would need them, if ever.
So, after breakfast, we stayed here a bit, found another half dozen standing dead spruce, limbed off the branches and had a complete day’s firewood sawed up ready to go when we got back.
The base camp that we hauled in
I also propped up the stove legs with wooden “floats” . The legs had sunk down into a pool of melted water under the firebox, which refroze during the night when we let the stoves go out.
Unfortunately, I misjudged just how much the stove had cooled off, and the arm of my down jacket came into contact with the surface, quickly melting a series of holes in the sleeve that I patched with McNett clear non-stick tape, that held the down in until I could make a more permanent repair at home.
The air wasn’t too cold, and although there were snow showers coming on, the skies eventually broke from the west.
There were two snowmobile tracks still heading upriver and we stuck to them.
Birdie and Bad Influence head upriver
There were sections of the river where the machines had burned through deep slush that had refrozen. Mostly. We had been walking quickly for about 90 minutes when I stepped on the frozen track and my boot broke through the crust and went into slush.
Not Good
It is the bane of any winter walker, as it not only soaks through the moose hide of the mukluks, but if and when you shift over to snowshoes, which you eventually need to float on this icy soup, they ice up in sub- freezing temperatures, gathering increasing thickness of ice, as the water cakes onto the snowshoes. It you are hauling toboggans it freezes to the bottom. Both situations require stopping and beating or scraping off the ice on the toboggans with the axe head in order to just keep going forward. It is not good.
The Grey Road to Unlimited Saturation
For more on the topic of overflow, and skill-based winter camping knowledge, I refer you to Snow Walker’s Companion, by Garret and Alexandra Conover. I consider them my mentors on all aspects of winter walking. No better guide exists. They are also excellent writers.
Within the next steps, BI and I were both breaking through, in a section of river where the brush on the sides of the channel was so thick that it would have been close to impossible to move toboggans up and around the slush, which at this point appeared to be a hundreds yards or more long. Of course, there could have been even more, or no slush around the bend. When 50 pound Birdie was repeatedly breaking through until mid leg in whatever direction she bounded , we both realized how fortunate we were to have used the day as a reconnaissance mission.
There wasn’t much discussion. We turned around and headed back, in relief that we hadn’t disassembled our camp and brought it up here to an impasse. Both of us plugged into our respective iPods while we walked back, and I got in a little air guitar to the tune of Please Stand Up, by British Sea Power.
Uncle Tom shreddin'
Volumes of prepared stove wood awaited us when he returned to camp about 2 PM. The rest of the afternoon was spent drinking hot cocoa, and eating nuts, dried fruit, chips, and hummus.
Winter Digs
We both drifted in and out of naps as we took turns stoking the stove. BI’s mukluks dried, ready for tomorrow’s adventures.
Whoopie Pie is the trail name of area code 207 resident Amy Neinczura. Amy thru hiked the AT southbound and has been writes frequently on her WordPress blog at http://mainethewaylifeturnedout.wordpress.com about how tough it is to walk the line with one foot still on the trail and the other feeling around for the correct path in the “shower world”, as we hikers term the 9-5 work-a-day-Janie world.
So give Amy a warm welcome.
In the continuing series of “What Have I Learned From Hiking?”— Here’s Whoopie pie!
“if you keep going, you will get there. if you stop, you won’t.” i repeated this over and over again to myself on my solo southbound thru-hike of the AT, especially on the last 700 miles of the trail, when all i wanted to do was stop. my trail love who promised to go to springer with me changed his mind around daleville, virginia. suddenly i was hiking alone again, as i had started in maine, only this time i was in the part of the trail that i knew the least about and feared the most, the south. as an early southbounder, i did not have the comfort of a bubble with me, a bubble ahead of me, and a bubble behind me like northbounders do. i truly felt the weight of the pack on my shoulders, weight that refused to give up but felt little enthusiasm to continue. i would learn the difficulty of hiking, and existing, without a community.
in daleville, i bought pepper spray, perhaps as a symbolic gesture to soothe my fear. a family friend and former thru-hiker who lived in roanoake suggested that i buy the trail maps in addition to the data book that i was using, so that i could triangulate camping spots furthest from roads, from civilization, the least accessible to weirdos. i learned to spot the trail bums, the “hikers” clad in jeans listening to their radios and eating out of cans at shelters, and i take off as quickly as i dropped my pack to read the register.
it turned out that i did not need the pepper spray. most section hikers, day hikers, and townspeople who picked me up hitch-hiking would exclaim, in the most incredulous tone imaginable, “you are hiking ALONE!?” day hikers would give me every apple and granola bar they had packed, as if i did not have a pack full of instant mashed potatoes, dried cranberries, and cheap sugar cookies from food lion. on the virginia creeper trail, i met a church group who promised to pray for me. in the day prior, i met another hiker who offered to let me shower, eat, and spend the night when i reached big balds. he was one of three strangers-turned-friends who put me up during my thru-hike. i will always remember stopping at the parking lot at carver’s gap in the roans and having a man say in the most darling tennessee accent, “would you like some home-made tennessee molasses?” somewhere around the smokeys, i was offered shots of home-made moonshine, and hated the medical predicament that stopped me from saying yes.
i met all of those people, and experienced that generosity, on good days. i spent much of my last 700 miles in tears, and i did not have a community of people to cheer me up. i wanted to physically challenge myself, but i made the challenge harder than it needed to be. i did indeed make it to springer. i would not realize until the following year how much more pleasant the AT could be.
in the summer 2011, i returned to the AT northbound, only for my favorite section, New England. i started at the ny/ct line, and headed north, intending to switch to the long trail. soon i realized the joys of hiking within a community, a group of people excited to see me arrive at the shelter or campsite, people who suggested shelters or campsites or dartmouth frat houses where i was not initially planning on staying. with trail friends, i had a reason to build campfires and stay up late, or at least hiker late. i had swimming partners-in-crime, and inn-at-the-long-trail partners-in-crime, and work-for-stay partners-in-crime. needless to say, when i reached the maine junction, i turned east towards home.
hiking alone southbound, many of my memories consisted of, “yep, i cried going up that mountain. oh yeah, wesser bald, i cried that day. the smokeys? yep…” it starts to sound a little PATHETIC, really. yet northbound this past summer, i left a trail of laughter. i would say my same line over and over again, “NO LAUGHING ON THE DOWNHILL!” then i would promptly burst into laughter, and lose my footing.
nevermind my digressions. my need for community, and my ability to benefit from it, is one of my most cherished trail lessons. my trail lessons are so pervasive that they are strewn across my memory like a gear bomb that i trip over when i need to use the privy in the middle of the night. no, not a gear bomb. true confessions: because i am such a minimalist, i created very unimpressive gear bombs. my trail lessons are stowed and neatly packed in the exact same spot of my mental backpack, just like my aqua mira and alcohol stove and hubba hp and other possessions. that way, whenever i need to pull one of my trail lessons out of my pack for strength, i can efficiently find it.
One of the most dependable pieces of gear that I have used daily for a cumulative total of over 365 days, and 5,000 miles of backpacking on my three thru-hikes is the Steripen. I’ve used my yellow Adventurer for the past four years. I have recently received an upgrade from Hydro-Photon up to the Adventurer Opti model, which I plan to use on all future hikes. I also use my Steripen to purify drinking water that I draw from the pond where our Maine camp is located. I’m pleased that the company that makes the device still is based in Blue Hill, ME. I have hiked with several people who also used Steripens, which depend on several key factors to operate properly.
First, the Opti’s use CR123 batteries which are not easy to find in remote locations. When you do locate them in hardware or drug stores they are generally priced between $8 to $10. Whoa! I get mine in a 12 pack at LL Bean’s here in Maine for about $20, and other online sources have them even cheaper. All lithium photo batteries, including these CR123’s, have a shelf life of 8 to 10 years, so you can buy in bulk. Past models were reported to draw tiny amounts of current when stored, so it is important to remove the batteries when the unit is not taking an adventure with you. Before a trip I check each battery that I intend to use with a digital voltmeter to be sure they are robust. I then write the date that I checked the battery with a indelible marker so that I remember which is fully charged before a trip. With fresh batteries I get about two and a half week’s worth of use, purifying an average of 6 quarts a day. Another trick I’ve learned is to use the emery board that I have in my first aid kit to abrade the batteries’ contacts so that any residual film picked up in my pack can be removed before use.
The second thing I monitor ( and this is with the previous model of the Steripen Adventurer) is the two metal electrodes that have to be submerged for the unit to operate. I find they are sensitive to moisture. They definitely need to be dried off between sequential, multiple uses, but they also can fault if you are in humid or rainy conditions, like I experienced on my Long Trail thru-hike in Vermont this past August. When the dreaded red right comes on, I assume it is due to lingering moisture on those electrodes and when that happens, I clean the electrodes with a dry cotton bandanna. I find that some synthetic fabrics are so water resistant that they don’t pick up the residual moisture on the electrodes. Anyhow, I can’t wait to use the new, optically triggered Adventurer, and now there’s an even lighter 2.6 oz. model that is coming on the market.
Today’s Bangor Daily News has the following to say about HYdro-Photon and their Steripens:
Blue Hill outdoorsman-inventor paves the way to safe water, any time, anywhere
Article in Bangor Daily News by Aislinn Sarnacki in December 15, 2011 Outdoors
The power of the sun inspired one Maine resident to invent the SteriPEN, a handy gizmo that was recently named one of TIME Magazine’s Top 100 All-Time Gadgets, a list of “the greatest and most influential gadgets from 1923 to the present.”
The SteriPEN, a compact water purifier, is usually found in sports stores, outfitters and airports. And unless you’re an avid traveler or backpacker, you’ve probably never heard of it, even though the company headquarters and research hub is located in Blue Hill.
“It’s listed right there with the Apple iPod and Velcro and the Jarvik artificial heart,” said SteriPEN inventor Miles Maiden during a recent interview. Moreover, online reviewers rated SteriPEN as the No. 1 gadget of the entire list.
Maiden grew up on Cape Cod and graduated from College of the Atlantic in Bar Harbor, where he became interested in solar power.
“I became interested in the ultraviolet side of things,” said Maiden. A dedicated outdoorsman, he started to experiment with how UV light could be used make water safer to drink — water being one of the essentials in enjoying the wilderness.
While working in solar research after college, he invented SteriPEN, a handheld device that uses UV light to purify water. Soon after, he founded Hydro Photon Inc. in 1997, and today he acts as the company’s CEO and chief technology officer.
The SteriPEN looks like a chunky pen, but when you take off the cap and turn it on, it’s more like a miniature Star Wars light saber, which has intimidated more than a few rugged outdoorsmen.
The device may seem high-tech, but UV technology has been used to purify water for more than 100 years and is currently used to purify drinking water in some of the largest cities in the world. Furthermore, SteriPEN products has received the Water Quality Association’s Gold Seal.
To purify water, just stick the wand in a bottle of water and stir it around for about a minute (the amount of time depends on the model and the amount of water you’re purifying). The UV rays destroy 99.9 percent of bacteria, viruses and protozoan cysts such as giardia and cryptosporidium, which can make people dangerously sick if ingested.
“I’ve spent a fair bit of time in parts of the world where you really wouldn’t think to drink the water out of the tap. So it’s been very handy in those types of places,” said Maiden, who continues to bring SteriPEN models on hiking and camping trips despite his busy schedule.
As stated on the SteriPEN website, only three-tenths of one percent of the Earth’s water can be used by humans. Other ways to improve water quality include chemical treatment and filtration.
“If I look at the alternatives, drinking active chemicals, to me, isn’t something I personally want to do,” Maiden said.
Also, chemical treatments sometimes don’t kill cryptosporidium and giardia, which have thick shells. UV light kills them easily, said Maiden. “And you don’t end up with something that tastes like a swimming pool,” he added.
And while quality water filtration units do get rid of microbes and cysts, smaller viruses slip right through filters. SteriPEN, on the other hand, attacks viruses with photons. In other words, it destroys viruses regardless of size.
For more than a decade, the company has continued to grow. For Maiden, innovation means increasing functionality and lowering the cost of his products. Over the years, he has released several SteriPEN models to fit the needs and budgets of a variety of travelers and outdoor enthusiasts.
The Classic SteriPEN, once priced at about $100, now costs just $60. Then there is the Sidewinder, powered by a crank; the Journey, with a LCD screen with an automatic timer and battery reader; the Traveler, which fits into commercial water bottles; and the 3.6-ounce Adventurer Opti, with a water sensor and LED flashlight. This tiny device won “Editor Choice 2011” in “Backpacker Magazine.”
But it’s the recently released SteriPEN Freedom that steals the spotlight and has earned a spot in “Gear of the Year 2011” by “Men’s Journal.” It is the lightest, smallest and most technologically advanced SteriPEN yet. At 5.1 inches long, it weighs in at 2.6 ounces. It can be charged by a USB cable, like a cellphone, or can be solar charged. And it doesn’t require buttons because it’s motion-activated. And it was all designed by his talented crew in Blue Hill.
But Maiden isn’t willing to pause and bask in the company’s recent success.
“I think in the future we’ll be looking at incorporating a wider range of treatments so we can also remove the turbidity in water as well and address chemical contaminants,” he said.
And Hydro-Photon Inc. is already pioneering technology involving light-emitting diodes, more commonly known as LEDs.
“LEDs are really neat devices for a whole bunch of reasons — you probably know them from flashlights. But ultraviolet LEDs are being developed and still aren’t ready for the commercial world,” Maiden said.
In 2004, Hydro-Photon Inc. became the first company in the world to show an effective use of ultraviolet LEDs in water purification. Though usually they conduct all research in-house, they worked with the University of Maine in the LED research, funded by the U.S. Office of Naval Research. Maiden predicts that LEDs will eventually displace ultraviolet lamps because of their low cost and higher efficiency.
And the majority of product testing has been conducted A & L Laboratory in Auburn, and University of Maine labs in Orono and Portland. While the company’s retail products are manufactured overseas, their new military models are made at Elscott Manufacturing in Gouldsboro, or “right down the road,” as Maiden put it. The two army-green SteriPENs are called the Defender and the Protector.
Though the SteriPEN is now sold in more than 60 countries, Maiden has remained in Maine, where his fascination with the sun’s power was cultivated.
When I sent out the call for local hikers to convene at the top of Bald Rock Mountain to view the 4:10 PM full moon rise last Saturday night, I concluded with the statement, “Many are called, but few are chosen”. I didn’t expect many to show. Man, was I wrong. I saw, or heard from 28 people who got to the top of some mountain that night. Here is a guest entry from my hiking partner Tenzing:
“Inspired by Uncle Tom AKA Jah-Opie Jamrog’s call to occupy mountaintops for Saturday’s full moon, I traveled up to Lincolnville Center, Maine to help him occupy Bald Rock Mountain in Camden Hills State Park Saturday night. While we were the only two to spend the night up there, UT enticed another 10 people to join us for the moonrise and then yet another 10-12 after dark who hiked up “up” to visit!
Suzanne and Ian
Night time temps dropped into the low teens, but the old shelter kept us out of the wind and lots of layers inside my sleeping bag kept me pretty comfortable.
Tenzing at the Lean-To
Special thanks to Uncle Tom who cooked breakfasts for us while I photographed the sunrise.
Uncle Tom cooking breakfast
We started out with the traditional “drop the packs at Dave’s”, drop my vehicle at Steven’s Corner before slack packing from Tom’s home to Dave’s with lunch at the Drake’s Corner store. At Dave’s we carefully shouldered our heavy packs and headed up Thurlow Road including the abandoned section before entering the Park.
The Cameron Mountain Trail was a short climb from the road and was recently regraded and basically a small road which we followed 1.4 miles to the Bald Rock Mountain Trail. another 0.8 miles and we reached Saturday’s destination- the upper lean-to at the top of Bald Rock Mountain.
Tenzing and Tom
We arrived at 3:00 PM and took 45 minutes to gather firewood and set up camp before heading to the outlook over the beautiful islands of Maine for the moonrise. In bed about 9:30 PM and up at 6:00. We hiked out back to Steven’s Corner at about 8:00 AM when we drove over to Tanglewood 4-H Camp for another quick 2 miles of walking in the woods and where we visited Turner Falls along the Ducktrap River. A great weekend and thanks to our wives for supporting our expedition(s). Here’s My Facebook album for this trip. ”
Additional tidbits follow:
There were two classic quotes that I’d like to share from the hike:
Tenzing notes, “If you only go up for a day, you gotta beat yourself up a bit.” Tenzing estimated that his pack weighed 60 pounds, and he might have been correct. Between us, we probably humped up 100 pounds after each of us filled 3 quarts of water from the stream up at the end of the Cameron Mountain Trail. I humped up a saw, a chair, a knife, down booties, multiple packs of hand and foot warmers, and lots of warm clothing, things I don’t normally carry in my backpack. Clarkie had a heavier chair, enough kielbasa to feed a basketball team, plus containers of condiments, beer, and a mini tripod.
Another Tenzing jem- “Man, these women in Maine are something else, you are not going to find any woman in New Hampshire that would be hiking up here in the dark and cold after a dinner date.” This one had to do with our last visitors, a group of two couples that were skittering their way down the big ledge above the lean-to sometime around 9 PM. I’m talking about Pat Hurley and his girlfriend Martha.
Karen and Bill hiked up the wrong mountain. They hiked up Bald Mountain off the Barnestown Road. Chip and Cindy ran out of time, and hiked up Beech Hill instead. John and Ann decided to walk up a less treacherous footpath and walked up Mt. Battie, where they witnessed the lighting of the giant Christmas star on top of the tower.
Next full moon will be on Monday Jan. 9, 2012. ??????
Occupy Mountaintops! Saturday will bring us our December full moon. Why not hike up Bald Rock Mountain in Lincolnville to view it? Rangers are leading full moon hikes this weekend in 4 State parks here in Maine. I’m inviting anyone and everyone up to the top of Bald Rock to view the full moon rise which is scheduled to occur this Saturday at 4:10 PM ( Augusta data). This is an unorganized hike, meaning the only plan is to meet at that time on top to watch the moon come up over Penobscot Bay. Let’s hope for decent viewing weather. Some of us plan to camp on top after the moonrise. There’s a couple of decrepit lean-tos still standing up there, some flat grassy tent space on top, and a fire pit that gets frequent use there. Bratwusrts would be good!
We’ll see what shakes down. My take on these type of events is that “Many are called but few are chosen”. Contact me if I can be of any further assistance.
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