Twelve members of the Bowdoin Outing Club (BOC) traveled north to Baxter State Park last weekend for the inaugural Togatahdin hike, which the BOC hopes will become a longstanding tradition.
We hiked the tallest mountain in Maine, Mount Katahdin, and did it clad in snuggly flannel togas. Yes, togas. It was cold, windy, and wet. But we succeeded.
We drove to our campground on Friday afternoon, arriving to pleasant weather and three beautiful lean-tos. After a filling Mexican-themed dinner, we promptly nestled into our sleeping bags to rest up for our early-morning ascent.
As 5:30 a.m. rolled around, we wolfed down a hearty breakfast to fortify ourselves for the trek ahead, donned our togas and hit the trail. We blew past many other groups on our way up, receiving dubious looks and bewildered questions from our fellow hikers.
They wanted to know if we were cold, whether we were crazy, why we were doing this and whether the park rangers knew what we were up to.
It made my day when one guy asked to take our picture because he thought nobody would ever believe what he had just witnessed. Most people thought we were crazy, and shook their heads in disbelief as we scrambled up the mountainside.
Undeterred, we endured whistling winds and pelting precipitation to reach the summit. After snapping some victory shots at the peak, we hurried down before the weather worsened. Below the tree line, it was calm and warm—a stark contrast to the driving winds and rain at the peak.
Back at camp, the afternoon passed with well-deserved naps, games of Settlers of Catan (or rather, Settlers of Katahdin) and a general feeling of accomplishment among our group.
All that was left to do was feast. We had ramen bombs for dinner, s’mores for dessert, and bacon and egg sandwiches for breakfast.
On our drive home, we visited Dysart’s in Bangor, our favorite truck stop restaurant. The food would be a fitting end to any toga party, but the fact that we had just climbed 5,267 feet made it taste even better.
Twelve members of the Bowdoin Outing Club (BOC) traveled north to Baxter State Park last weekend for the inaugural Togatahdin hike, which the BOC hopes will become a longstanding tradition.
We hiked the tallest mountain in the Northeast, Mount Katahdin, and did it clad in snuggly flannel togas. Yes, togas. It was cold, windy, and wet. But we succeeded.
We drove to our campground on Friday afternoon, arriving to pleasant weather and three beautiful lean-tos. After a filling Mexican-themed dinner, we promptly nestled into our sleeping bags to rest up for our early-morning ascent.
As 5:30 a.m. rolled around, we wolfed down a hearty breakfast to fortify ourselves for the trek ahead, donned our togas and hit the trail. We blew past many other groups on our way up, receiving dubious looks and bewildered questions from our fellow hikers.
They wanted to know if we were cold, whether we were crazy, why we were doing this and whether the park rangers knew what we were up to.
It made my day when one guy asked to take our picture because he thought nobody would ever believe what he had just witnessed. Most people thought we were crazy, and shook their heads in disbelief as we scrambled up the mountainside.
Undeterred, we endured whistling winds and pelting precipitation to reach the summit. After snapping some victory shots at the peak, we hurried down before the weather worsened. Below the tree line, it was calm and warm—a stark contrast to the driving winds and rain at the peak.
Back at camp, the afternoon passed with well-deserved naps, games of Settlers of Catan (or rather, Settlers of Katahdin) and a general feeling of accomplishment among our group.
All that was left to do was feast. We had ramen bombs for dinner, s’mores for dessert, and bacon and egg sandwiches for breakfast.
On our drive home, we visited Dysart’s in Bangor, our favorite truck stop restaurant. The food would be a fitting end to any toga party, but the fact that we had just climbed 5,267 feet made it taste even better.
