Mile-high Katahdin

Consider the time-honored quote from Shakespeare — “What’s in a name?/That which we call a rose/By another name would smell as sweet.”

That line kept popping into my mind recently as I pondered repeated references to Maine’s tallest mountain in the media as “mile-high Mount Katahdin.” Few people realize that the famous edifice’s highest point on Baxter Peak, which also just happens to be the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail, is actually just short of that mark.

That fact came home to roost not too long ago when a team of University of Maine scientists re-measured the mountain using satellite and electronic technology and discovered that Katahdin is actually about seven inches higher than originally thought.

It seems that way back in 1941, the folks with good, old-fashioned surveying equipment (which didn’t need batteries, laser beams, solar arrays or a high-speed connection with the Internet) calculated that Katahdin was all of 5,267 feet high. Those of you who are familiar with measurements will note that this is exactly 13 feet shy of a mile. But even on Katahdin, man could not leave nature alone.

Legend has it that someone – perhaps a troop of industrious Boy Scouts or maybe some bored backwoods traveler in search of enlightenment, or maybe the legendary king of Katahdin rangers, Roy Dudley – piled up tons of rocks at the summit cairn to elevate Katahdin to the lofty mile-high club.

Now, while there is a pretty big pile of rocks at the top, I doubt it’s 13 feet high. But who cares? And that’s exactly my point about the most recent measurement – which added .6 of a foot (which by the way is 7.2 inches, not six inches as reported by the Associated Press) to Katahdin’s total.

I’d hate to be the guy who has to go up there and scratch the new total onto the little bronze surveyor’s benchmark.

Funny, though, driving in from Millinocket, Katahdin (That's right, not Mount Katahdin as Katahdin means "Greatest Mountain," and to say "Mount Greatest Mountain" makes no sense) does not look any bigger.

I wonder if the Native Americans who lived in the area and dare not tread on Katahdin for fear of angering evil spirits, would have cared if they knew it was really a tad taller than their ancestors thought.

For the thousands of people who trek to the top of Katahdin each year, I doubt the extra seven inches will matter. No one will throw up their hands in disgust and give up plans to climb “the mountain of the people of Maine” upon learning they will have further to go than they originally planned.

Percival Baxter, who personally assembled and donated the park that bears his name and saved Katahdin for all time, would probably, if he were alive, find the extra height interesting in an academic sense. But that would be all.

For sure, the people who each day work and play in the shadow of this magnificent mountain won’t notice much difference. Pilots flying overhead won’t have to adjust their altimeters to keep from making an abrupt final touch down on either side of the Knife Edge Trail.

Whether Katahdin is 5,267 feet or a mile high really makes no difference. Its grandeur and ability to inspire remain intact, from the early days when Thoreau described its majesty to this day and long into the future. The thrill of having climbed Maine’s highest peak, to stand at the top and look out upon what seems to be the rest of the world, will not be diminished by this recent addition to the sum of humanity’s knowledge.

According to the scientists who made the recent measurements, they will probably do it again at some time in the future if there are sufficient technological advancements which, unfortunately, there always are.

I guess all we can ask is, Why? To steal a perfectly good line from Shakespeare: “What’s in a height? That which we call Katahdin by another benchmark would be as steep.”