We were fortunate to find the trail packed down by snowshoes and skis. Getting used to the added weight on our feet, we traversed the gradually rising trail through a hardwood forest. We glimpsed Katahdin’s crisp, white ridge to our left, through the gaps between narrow, leafless birch trees groaning in the wind..
It was just a normal May day, but a freak wave came in on Strand Hill. The surfers up there say that if you get caught in one of those undercurrents you are in severe trouble.
