End of Maine, end of ME

One day in Maine I stopped by Mechanic Falls where there's supposed to be a little bit of bouldering known to someone as Land of Overhangs. As I research directions, the destination is admittedly poorly labeled. The town sign nearby doesn't even read Mechanic Falls. Oops.
To get to the climbing here are logging paths to cross. The trail to get there is the trail you make.
I drop my pad down and hop on some seeping rock. Grades are washed away. That was a short trip on August 1st.

Since then I have said goodbye to camp.

And arrived back in Boston at my brother's house in Tufts University land. I tried to meet up with wily Erica Griffith somewhere in MIT land, but she was caged up in lab. So I waited with time by slacklining and climbing brick walls and walking some more. If you are interested in how much I walked (enough to blister and give myself leg-aches) then you can look up directions from Tufts to MIT and multiply that by three (I got lost a bunch when return-walking past midnight. Otherwise you'd multiply by two).

Unfortunately, I had to leave without seeing Erica since she was exhausted and still had an hour and a half to work. I did, however, make a new friend who I'm meeting for a meal in some short change today. It's nice when people's curiosity get the better of them. That happened a bunch while at MIT since I was carrying a grande total of 130 feet of webbing around my neck (for slacklining). Everyone thinks, "What is that for?" but not everyone's minds are well-connected to their mouths.

Derivation of blog entry title: "End of Maine, end of ME." Maine is behind me now, at least for awhile. And the end of me occurred when I walked and ran the distance between Tufts and MIT. Exhausted, feet hurting. It was not a happy time. I ran half the way home at 1:30 in the morning because I figured even though it hurt more than walking, I would cut the duration of pain by a large factor.

"Time is fast-forwarding as I speak," says Landescaper, N8