Katahdin reminds us of the limits of human endurance
By Christopher Burns, Bangor Daily News Staff
Katahdin is the crown jewel of the Maine outdoors.
It looms large over the landscape, towering over the vast stretches of forest and lakes of the North Woods.
Hikers from all over come to test their mettle on Maine’s highest peak, the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail.
Once again, the mountain has become the stage for a tragedy as old as storytelling itself: us versus nature.
Tim Keiderling, 58, and his daughter, 28-year-old Esther Keiderling, both of Ulster Park, New York, set out on a Sunday morning to reach the nearly mile-high Baxter Peak. Family told the Bangor Daily News both Keiderlings were experienced hikers. After reaching the top of the Abol Trail, they were seen traversing the Tablelands toward the summit about 10:15 a.m.
That was the last time they were seen.
Tim Keiderling’s body was found on the Tablelands on June 3. Rescuers remain focused on the search for Esther.
It’s a reminder that the reward of summiting Katahdin is matched only by the peril that haunts every hike, waiting for a seemingly inconsequential mistake or momentary blunder to manifest it.
Hence the signs carrying a warning for hikers: “YOU ARE ENTERING MAINE’S LARGEST WILDERNESS. YOUR SAFETY IS YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY. SET A TURNAROUND TIME AND STICK TO IT. YOUR DESTINATION IS YOUR SAFE RETURN TO THE TRAILHEAD. RESCUERS CAN BE MANY HOURS IN ARRIVING.”
Surveyor Charles Turner made the first recorded ascent of Katahdin on Aug. 13, 1804.
But perhaps the most famous came four decades later, in August 1846, when the naturalist and philosopher Henry David Thoreau climbed but never summited Katahdin. His climb was thwarted when the fog became so dense Thoreau could barely see the way in front of him.
During his brief time on Katahdin, where a spring on the Tablelands bears his name, Thoreau meditated on the fierceness of the landscape that contrasted sharply with the tame woods where he wandered around Concord, Massachusetts.
“This was that Earth of which we have heard, made out of Chaos and Old Night. Here was no man’s garden, but the unhandseled globe. It was not lawn, nor pasture, nor mead, nor woodland, nor lea, nor arable, nor waste land. It was the fresh and natural surface of the planet Earth, as it was made forever and ever, — to be the dwelling of man, we say, — so Nature made it, and man may use it if he can. Man was not to be associated with it. It was Matter, vast, terrific, — not his Mother Earth that we have heard of, not for him to tread on, or be buried in, — no, it were being too familiar even to let his bones lie there, — the home, this, of Necessity and Fate. There was clearly felt the presence of a force not bound to be kind to man. It was a place for heathenism and superstitious rites, — to be inhabited by men nearer of kin to the rocks and to wild animals than we,” he wrote in his notes compiled after his death into the book “The Maine Woods.”
While Katahdin bestows many hikers with memories, it teaches others a harsh lesson.
The adage about the Maine weather — “if you don’t like the weather, just wait five minutes” — is especially true on Katahdin. Though, perhaps, it would be more fitting to say, “if you like the weather, it’ll change in five minutes.”
“Variability” is the rule of Katahdin’s weather. Clouds can quickly overcome clear skies and sock you in. Rain and thunder can send you scrambling for cover. Summer-like conditions at the base can give way to more wintry conditions at the summit. Therein, perhaps, lies the origin of the Abenaki legend of Pamola, the wrathful spirit who inhabits the mountain and is said to be angry with those who trespass in his domain.
“In modern times, unfortunately, Pamola has swung his mighty club several times — and believe me, he can hammer you without much in the way of a warning,” Eric Wight writes in his memoir of his time as a game warden, “Life and Death in the North Woods.”
Perhaps the most famous case of a lost hiker on Katahdin is that of Donn Fendler, who at age 12 became separated from his father, brothers and the rest of his hiking party as clouds, “like gray smoke,” shrouded the trail. The New York boy spent nine days without food or proper clothes lost in the Maine woods in July 1939, wandering to the East Branch of the Penobscot River where he was finally found.
Over the years, more than 60 people have died on Katahdin, including two hikers just days apart in October 2020. One of those hikers, Nathan Leigh Bell, 27, of Walkersville, Maryland, was ill-prepared for a night on the mountain and succumbed to the elements, while the other, veteran journalist Donald MacGillis, 75, of Pittsfield, Massachusetts, and his nephew became lost in the fog on Knife Edge near Katahdin’s south peak. The pair called park rangers to help and sheltered in place. But during the night, MacGillis fell 50 feet and died.
In August 2023, six hikers learned the hard way how even in the summer conditions can rapidly deteriorate on Katahdin. On the Knife Edge, the temperatures began to fall and winds kicked up, reaching 30 mph. They were forced to shelter above the treeline and didn’t return to safety until after 21 hours.
Baxter State Park officials have a long list of recommended items for hikers to pack. That includes a map, compass, headlamp or flashlight (and extra batteries), first aid kit, extra food and water, extra clothing, knife, sunscreen, firestarter, whistle, parachute cord, etc. You may find even more to be necessary (such as cold weather gear even at the height of summer). So any hike up Katahdin can require a somewhat cumbersome load.
But that’s all for your safety. Preparation can be the difference between life and death.
The park’s website warns would-be hikers about the conditions on Katahdin and cautions them to “know your limits.”
But even the best laid plans can’t always prepare you for the mountain’s capricious whims. Once in the woods and above the treeline, you are, in effect, on your own. Well-prepared and experienced hikers have met their match in Katahdin. An inconsequential mistake or momentary blunder can have life-changing consequences.
Sometimes it comes down to luck and chance.
Fendler got lost and walked out of the woods nine days later. MacGillis called for help and sheltered in place but didn’t walk out.
Not everyone has been fortunate to learn from their mistakes on Katahdin.