"Yo!" from Lincoln, New Hampshire! Wow, SO much has happened since the last update. I can't believe it's been 18 days. That blows my mind. The trail's kind of a timeless place, it's easy to just wander your way through the month, especially when you don't have any real schedule to mark the passage of time. Things seem to just unravel for you, and suddenly it's been 18 days-ha!
There's a lot to cover. Let's start at square one: Harry Potter. The gang was overjoyed to see the final Potter flick in Bethel, Maine. It was funny to visit the theater and munch on Twizzlers, staring up at the display all enchanted and dumb.
Bob White couldn't join us because she was seeing her pal, Margot, who could only hike for twelve days, off at the Bangor airport. Her boyfriend, Jeff (or Powder River), had to pick them up at the trailhead near Andover. As it happened, my crew was just about to cross the road, scale a mountain, walk four miles, and crash at a shelter. We were all bloated and lazy from overindulgence in town and our spirits were low, especially with the sun due to set in two hours. Luckily, Jeff pulled up with a cooler of soft drinks, Gatorade, Oreos, and caramel popcorn, so we munched and caught up and just camped off the road. (This might not sound like an awesome story, but Trail Magic, or free goodies, is pretty exciting among the hikers.)
We havent seen Bob White since then, but that's the way of the trail I suppose. It's all very loose and fleeting. Twisted Turtle hangs with us now, he's a great addition to the crew, always throwing in snide remarks that get everyone LOL'ing.
New Hampshire was in our sights (sometimes literally). Besides Harry Potter, the Mahoosuc Notch was an awesome finale for the state. This portion of the trail, often referred to as the hardest mile of the whole thing, guides you through, over, and under a complicated boulder field, surrounded on either side by dense forest. It was like an obstacle course (at the time, I likened it to Tomb Raider and Prince of Persia). For an hour and a half, Tag and I hopped between rocks, sidled along ledges, and navigated narrow corridors (sometimes needing to take our packs off). Cool air issued out of the deeper crevices, sometimes full of ice with steam swirling around. It was really fantastic, exactly the kind of thing little kids like myself think of an adventure. Coach actually took his backpack off and went back for seconds.
It's crazy that so many Nobos (northbounders) we met viewed the notch as a nuisance, telling us that, unfortunately, we couldn't move through it at our normal speed. From what I'd heard, I expected a steep, laborious climb, not the awesome playplace that I got. After seeing some of the fastest Nobos, all stern and beleaguered, and after some support from the crew, I've discovered that a slower pace is my style for the trail. I'd still like to finish in November, but December's good too. Still, the mid-Atlantic part of the trail's supposed to be faster, lots of Nobos claim we'll "fly" down it, so I may finish in November anyway.
Shortly after Mahoosuc, we entered New Hampshire. We were pleased to have completed our first and hardest state, Maine. Now the White Mountains stood before us.
The Whites could have been a hard core challenge for us, but with Maine experience under our belts, and the good advice of many Nobos to just take it easy and enjoy the most spectacular part of the trail, we strolled through with daily mileages ranging from eight to fifteen. The Appalachian Mountain Club, a non-profit environmental group, manages a series of huts and shelters throughout the Whites where thru-hikers can seek work-for-stay jobs. Some thru-hikers resent the AMC because you either have to pay to stay in their shelters or ask for work slots that sometimes aren't available, so things can get iffy. Hikers can always stealth camp if they're turned away from shelters or huts, but weather is unpredictable up there. Luckily, Tag and I scored three work-for-stay's, and six free meals, so we got all the perks of the AMC. Regardless, we joked that we hated the oppression of the AMC, one of many faux-enemies of ours, including day packers, Nobos, Canadians, blue blazers (who follow side trails, sometimes bypassing the AT), and slack packers (who do portions of the trail with reduced packs, then pick up their full packs farther on). The Greenleaf Hut was especially nice because it was a mile off the trail, so thru-hikers were rare and well received (Tag delivered a presentation on thru-hiking to a full house of lodgers, including wide-eyed summer camp kids).
The mountains themselves were unbelievable. From a viewpoint, the land seems restless and abrupt, with constant bulges, ups, downs, and ripples, all surrounding the more gradual, sheer presence of Mount Washington, the premier mountain in the area, and the tallest. Unfortunately, the trek up Washington was cloudy. Ominous fog collected over the alpine field, until we were reduced to bobbing, gray forms, and the trail was just a series of cairns. By the time we summited, the visibility was so poor that I didn't notice an otherwise-prominent visitor's center only ten yards to my left. Even then I couldn't tell how large or how far it was until I actually reached it (I once thought that a white shape in a valley was a roof of a building, but I reached it within a minute to find that it was just a white rock, smaller than a drink cooler). Coach thought it was funny to see little girls (in flip-flops) emerge from the mist and pose next to the summit sign, asking their mom to just take the picture so they could get back to the car. The visitor's center had a display of all these magnificent pictures of sights from Washington, but the windows at the time looked like artificial, fluorescent lighting fixtures.
But the rest of our summits were only partially cloudy, which I prefer so we can watch the clouds interact with the mountains and the light. I got my fill of cloud action on top of Franconia Ridge, an exposed walk overlooking the southern Whites. A monster thunderstorm rolled in. Tag had the good sense to recommend that we scamper down the side of the ridge and squat on the balls of our feet to avoid lightning. It was a good thirty minute quad workout before the bulk of the storm passed. The clear, blue view to our right contrasted well with the hostile, receding storm clouds on our left.
Still, the Whites had more to offer than free food and epic views. Tag and I had a good time chilling on Zealand Falls, a stream that runs downhill over smooth, orange rock. My legs were acutely sore, maybe a little damaged, and we weren't especially motivated to move on, so we found a secluded spot far up the falls and spent the remainder of the day there before setting up our sleeping pads and bags and spending the night. It reminded me of Huck Finn, to spontaneously choose a spot on a river and to crash there. The noise of the river was a kind of silence. Plus, the river broke the canopy, so we got sweet star action. Tag exclaimed that there was more white than black in the sky. That was a real serene evening, wellbeing all over the freaking place.
Anyway, we hitched into Lincoln to stay at Chet's Place, a trail-famous house owned by the saint, the man, Chet. An avid hiker, he was injured when his fuel canister malfunctioned, leaving him hospitalized for many months. Now he's wheelchair-bound and bides his time by welcoming hikers into his home, where we bunk up in his garage. He's been doing this for fifteen years now. Hikers sign their names and draw pictures on designated surfaces, so you can see the history of the place, and the magnitude of his service, on the walls and bed frames. In fact, the Appalachian Trail Conservancy might put them on display. Pretty neat. I love the facilities, especially the shower (I hadn't bathed since the last post, so...).
Well, we're going to hitch out pretty soon. There's more to say, but oh well. Please remember to donate. Stay tuned for pics!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
PS- I saw a baby bear! We both freaked out when we saw each other. He leapt up a tree, climbed on a branch and snarled at me for a while. My first impulse, surprisingly, was to go, "Oh, hey!" and to start to approach it, but I instantly realized its momma' probably wouldn't approve, so I retreated out of sight for ten minutes before returning, after it had left.
PPS- I saw a rabbit too, it was cute, as rabbits are, and curious and hoppy.
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