Tag: #newhampshire

The rain never materialized except for about an hour of heavy downpour. If you can’t handle an hour of rain, you probably shouldn’t be out here. I did enjoy a day of rest and watching “Slumdog Millionaire” again. 

Day 1 (59), Hexacuba Shelter, 14.6

I got up in the middle of the night (for some unknown reason) and the sky was completely clear. That’s why I was so surprised when I got up at 7 to see everything clouded over and it looking like rain. I decided to just take my time with breakfast and packing to see what would happen. I’m already a day behind schedule, so what’s another day going to do?

Break Away checked the forecast and told me with confidence that there wouldn’t be any rain today. If you can’t trust a Marine Colonel, who can you trust? I chatted a while but still got out of the hostel by 8:30. 

Not even 2 miles out I ran into a really nice old guy (by old, I mean even older than me). We stopped, talked, and clicked instantly. I thought he was from England, but he forgave me my mistake when he told me he was from Australia. This was his 140th day on the trail. Also his 140th day of not doing laundry. He showed me why you shouldn’t accept trail names with someone else in partnership—he was hiking with his son named Strength. Together they are Mental, Strength. His son is a few days behind (pink blazing, I think). Now this guy is running around the woods coming up to people and saying “I’m Mental.”

I had forgotten how beautiful the trail is from Hanover to Moosilauke. Or, maybe I was in so much pain (knee and plantar fasciitis) that I just didn’t look up and notice. At any rate, this is a fabulous dirt track that’s easy on my feet. It also doesn’t hurt that there aren’t any climbs over 2000’ for a while. 

Before I was able to start my hike, I watched a lot of current year vloggers on YouTube. As I was nearing the top of Cube Mountain, I ran into one that I had been watching: Ranger. We chatted for a bit about our experiences on trail. 

Right at the summit of Cube, I came across a guy in very colorful dress carrying a tea pot. He was friendly enough but something seemed a bit off, until I realized he was a bit stoned. This was Smoke Master. He’s making it part of his journey to spread peace, happiness, and love with everyone he meets on his journey by sharing a smoke. This is a very noble cause. Of course I gave him my full support. 

Day 2 (60), Trapper John Shelter, 12.0

It’s a good thing I didn’t listen to my Republican friends in Decatur, IL. They suggested I carry a gun with me. If I had been foolish enough to do so, I would be writing this submission from prison (if they would let me keep my phone). The guy next to me in the shelter snored all night long…on both breaths; in and out. Luckily, I had decided to sleep with my hiking poles lying next to me. About every 15 minutes, I would grab a pole and poke him. It was dark enough that he couldn’t see where the pole was coming from. Needless to say, I’m done with shelters unless I have 50mg of Benadryl or I’m by myself. 

I’m glad it was a short day for me. It wasn’t supposed to be. If I put in 17 miles today, I’ll be back on schedule. I’d actually like to build up a couple extra days of cushion because there’s some new hostels in CT I’d like to check out. I was just dragging too much today from lack of sleep to put in a big day. 

I realize I’m suffering from survivor guilt. I’ve been dealing with it ever since my sister died 31 years ago. It’s only intensified since my dad’s death this past December. My sister was a nurse, very outgoing, and loved by all. She had two wonderful young daughters (neither of which will let me live in their basements—when I told them I was going to live in one of their basements, they both bought slab houses). It made no sense for her to die at 38. It still doesn’t make any sense to me. She’s been dead longer than she was my sister, but I still think about her nearly every day. 

I still wonder about the way I handled stuff with my dad at the end. In between hospital stays last year when he was having a pretty lucid day, I took him for a ride so we could talk. I told him I knew he was suffering with his strained breathing. He had to focus 100% of his effort to just breathe. I told him not hold on for us. We’re all in stable positions and we’ll be fine. I told him I didn’t want him to die, but I also didn’t want to see him suffer. In less than 2 weeks, he was dead. 

When my brother and I made the decision to go to comfort measures, the Dr was very understanding and compassionate. He reminded us we weren’t killing our dad—the COPD was. He promised dad wouldn’t suffer. In the final hours, my dad started getting restless and rolling around in the bed. I went and got the nurse and demanded she increase his fentanyl so he wouldn’t be in pain. This still haunts me that I did this, but I couldn’t watch the misery. 

Whoever says it’s beautiful to be with someone when they die is FOS. It’s the most gut wrenching thing I’ve ever done. I knew it was coming—I was watching his breathing, heart rate, pulse ox, holding his hand, and talking to him. I knew he was dying and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I’d have gladly traded places with him. He was a good and gentle man. It makes no sense to me that my dad and sister are gone while I’m still here. 

Day 3 (61), Velvet Rocks Shelter, 15.2

I finally had a good night of sleep. I haven’t slept well since I stealth camped on Mt Wolf and it rained all night long. Last night, I got my new sleep system all figured out. If I can put in 15 today, I’ll be back on schedule. 

In short, I got 2 firsts today—1) I hiked my first 15 mile day of the year, and 2) I didn’t wear any knee supports. I’ll still carry my supports in case my knees start to hurt again, but the steepest and longest climbs are behind me (for now). I’ve actually got several days planned in the 15-20 mile range in the next month with even a 20+ thrown in for good measure. I’ll have to average over 17 miles/day starting in October to be able to finish by Christmas. 

The NOBOs are starting to thin out a bit. A few days ago, I was running across more than 25 every day. Today it was down to the mid-teens. By the time I get out of Vermont, I should pretty much have the trail to myself. That alone should be good for a 5 mpd increase—I easily spend a couple hours every day talking to people I pass. Maybe I can get the mileage I need without having to get up earlier.  

Day 4 (62), Hanover, 1.5

It amazes me that this shelter is so close to town. We are actually above houses directly below us but we can’t see them because of the trees. In reality, I could throw a rock and knock a hole in someone’s roof—oh to be a young delinquent again. 

I woke up, without an alarm (mind you) right at 6. I’d already set the water last night for my coffee (note to self: trail invention that’s needed is a timed ignition for my jet-boil). I still had my honeybun, pop tarts, sausage links, and instant coffee before I headed into town for second breakfast at Lou’s Bakery. 

I’m going to back track a bit here. DOC (Dartmouth Outdoor Club) maintains the trail from the other side of Moosilauke all the way to Hanover. In general, they are doing a fantastic job…the further from Hanover you are. Maybe it’s the locals topping off the privy (it’s only a mile out from the soccer field) but I actually felt myself grow in height, while sitting, this morning. The half height privy door was a nice architectural accoutrement—cudos for that, but it’s time to dig a new hole and move a few feet away from the present location. 

I plan to stay in Hanover long enough to get all the free food available (free donut at Lou’s and Pizza at Ramunto’s), resupply, shower, and do laundry. I will be in a new state (other than confusion) by the end of this day. 

EFG

Daily Mileages

I’d met Warren and Sock Pile in Grafton Notch and we’ve been bumping into each other ever since. They were staying at The Notch while I was staying at Snowchasers Ski Lodge, but we made plans to meet at the Mexican restaurant for supper. I had gotten everything done on my Nero so I can have full day of rest on Monday. 

The only task I still had on my agenda for Monday was to get pizza. I decided it could wait until after I went to a movie—Oppenheimer. On Sunday, the movie started at 12:30 so I figured the times would be the same on Monday. When I arrived at 12:15, the doors were locked…the first movie today was at 3:30. I guess I had time for pizza. 

In my free time yesterday, I walked around town a bit. I had convinced myself I could live here in the future. I never found a CrossFit or an Indian Restaurant, but there was a Thai Restaurant that had curries. Today, I crossed Lincoln off my list. There weren’t any pizza places open on Mondays. I had McDonald’s followed by a glass of local wine (supposedly of Sauvignon Blanc). The wine solidified my “I’m not living in Lincoln” opinion.

Day 1 (55) Lonesome Lake Hut, 3.0

It started raining just as I was waking up at 6. It rained hard. It destroyed my desire to hike for the day. I thought at least I have one more chance for pizza. Screw Lincoln—no pizza on Mondays or Tuesdays! I had a sub and was ready to get out of town. 

Colin dropped me at the Franconia Notch trailhead parking lot about 1:30. I made my final adjustments and was off. At the end of the side trail leading back to the AT, I met Anna and Rick giving out trail magic. I stopped and talked to them while I had a cookie and a tangerine. Rick wants to hike the AT at some point in time but they like to connect with hikers in the meantime while they day hike. I also met Triple B, another SOBO. 

It was after 2 by the time I actually started hiking. Triple B had said he was going to try for “work for stay” at Lonesome Lake Hut. At the rate I was going, I’d arrive there right around 4. If there was only one spot, I’d let him have it, but I wouldn’t mind a free hot meal. 

Up on Franconia Ridge, a group of NOBOs tried to scare me with the “sketchy” water crossings between Franconia Notch and Lonesome Lake Hut. I made it across both streams without even getting the soles of my shoes wet. If they think these are difficult crossings, they’re going to “love” Maine. 

I arrived at the hut just at 4. Triple B was sitting outside and told me no other hikers had shown up. We went inside and secured our spots. On the one hand, I was dragging a bit today, so I didn’t mind stopping so early. The only problem is that I just put together a schedule so my friend, David, can meet and hike with me for a couple of weeks next month. This early stop has already screwed up my schedule. This is why I hate to make plans—they don’t stick. 

Day 2 (56) Stealth Campsite on Mt Wolf, 9.5

They want us to get up by 6:15 to get out of the dining room before the paying guests start coming in for breakfast. Apparently, it’s unappealing for guests to see naked, smelly hiker butts on the breakfast table—go figure. I ate my breakfast—an avacado, a low cal honeybun (only 540 cal) and some beef jerky. I was hiking by 7. 

Triple B told me I amazed him by the way I sleep. It seems I still snore, but I do stop snoring to fart in my sleep, but immediately start snoring after release. My autonomic systems are still in place and fully functional. 

I’m nearing the end of the Whites, but I’ve still got a couple of mountains I’ve been dreading—the Kinsman’s. It’s only 2 miles to the peak of North Kinsman with a 1500’ climb. It’s not the up I’m worried about. It’s the decent down South Kinsman which is 2000’ in a mile and a half. I remember the climb up as bad. I’m hoping my trend of faulty memory and over imagination of the climb up continues. 

The climb down was not nearly as bad as my memory had it. I climbed down in the rain without incident. The bigger problem was the Borg Bog I encountered. It was impossible to cross without being assimilated. When I caught up with Triple B at lunch—he had also been assimilated.

The rain had started at the peak of South Kinsman and didn’t stop for the rest of the day. The climb up North Kinsman was hot and humid. At first, the rain felt good but I was getting quite cold when I stopped for lunch. After lunch, I tried to climb up Mt Wolf quickly to generate heat, but my lack of cardio prevented me from reliably generating the heat I was hoping for. 

After summitting Mt Wolf, I just couldn’t get warm. It was already 5 and the last forecast I saw called for thunderstorms after 7. I decided if I found a good stealth spot with water nearby, I’d take it. Right away, I found a stream and stealth site 0.7 miles past summit of Mt Wolf. I set up my tent, got water, dried off and cooked. I had no desire to be walking down mountain in a storm. 

Day 3 (57) Jeffers Brook Shelter, 12.3

Like Lionel Ritchie sang, it rained “all night long.” When I looked out my tent, I didn’t remember camping so close to a stream. It slowly dawned on me—that’s the trail.

Not too far down the trail, a Forest Service Volunteer asked where I camped last night. I told him I found a stealth camp when it was apparent I couldn’t make it to the next shelter before dark. I was cold, tired, and done for the day. He gave me the forest rules for wild camping (of which I was not compliant) and told me I would get a $500 fine if ranger catches me.

I didn’t really want a LNT lecture this morning. I only stealth in existing spots even if those spots are not LNT compliant. I still think it’s less impact than me traipsing through the woods trying to find a suitable spot. But more importantly, I had not bothered to dig a hole knowing that there was an outhouse a mere 4 miles ahead in a mostly downhill trajectory..I was urgently brown blazing and needed to move on. 

My inner voice has been remarkably silent for the last few weeks. I made some concessions in the hope of peace, but I also made the decision I want to be a happier more positive person. So far, it’s been working, but I think the somberness of the rain rewoke him/it for a while today. I didn’t engage and after a mile or so, with me consciously focusing on the present/forest, my mind quieted down. 

Or maybe it was the climb up the north side of Moosilauke that did it. I had forgotten how steep this climb was. Admittedly, I hiked down this on a dry day and didn’t climb it on a rainy day, but it wasn’t that bad today. 

I was getting chilled after eating lunch. I had run across enough NOBOs to know the summit of Moosilauke was a bit harsh today. I donned my raincoat and continued up. 

I summitted Moosilauke at 4p with 40-50 mph sustained winds with gusts up to 70 mph. It was a heavy mist or slight rain—I’d have to get a Scotsman to give me the proper grading. As an Englishman would say, it was a bit brisk and moist. Visibility was under 30’. 

The hike down the other side was much more pleasant. I had decided to camp at the shelter just before Hikers Welcome Hostel and try to hike in tomorrow before the rain starts. Warren and Sock Pile were at the shelter when I arrived. 

Day 4 (58) Hikers Welcome Hostel, 1.1

I’ve heard nothing other than “stay off the mountain tops on Friday…it’s going to rain and storm all day” for the last couple days. I succumbed to the fear mongering just as I got back on schedule to meet David. 

Sock Pile got up early which really surprised me. I thought they were going to Hikers Welcome today, too. He left the shelter before 6:30 while his dad continued sleeping. When Warren woke up, he told me they were going to meet up again in Hanover. 

I was awake so I just packed up and walked the final mile and a half to the hostel. When I left the shelter, I had one little PUD to go over, but it turns out this wasn’t your ordinary PUD. When I came down the other side, everything was completely different. Just like that, I was out of The Whites. 

EFG

Daily Mileages

Rain creates converts. Several NOBOs came in to the Outdoor Center for the night: Thorn (from StL), OG, Sweet Tea, Captain BG (who’s just trying to “stay alive, stay alive”) all got bunks for the night and took advantage of the AYCE buffets. The one thing that I didn’t get was that they all got up early, packed up, and left right after breakfast while it was still raining. The forecast called for clearing conditions in the afternoon. The furthest anyone was going was Lake of the Clouds—even I hiked that in a bit more than half a day. 

One of the volunteers, Gail, showed me LL Bean equipment room. This is a great deal that the AMC and LL Bean have put together. Anyone that stays at an AMC hut, campsite, lodge, etc. can borrow any of the equipment they need for their outing—free of charge! This includes: tents, rain gear, sleeping bags, boots, snowshoes, etc. They have sizes ranging from toddlers to full grown adults. Talk about a great way to test out the waters before diving in and buying all your gear. 

LL Bean initially gave the AMC $400K worth of gear and keeps checking in yearly and offering up to $50K more. I’ve always heard Bean was generous, but this is amazing. Remember, the AMC is just one organization that Bean helps out. 

Before I headed out in the afternoon, I took advantage of another AMC thru-hiker special…beer, soup, and bread for $6. Show your card to get the special. A beer is $6, so they give hikers soup and bread for free. I didn’t want to have a beer knowing how much climbing I was going to be doing so I asked for a Coke instead. They told me to take 2. 

While I was downing my lunch, I heard a man having a conference call in the back of the dining room. When he got finished, I went over to talk to him. This was the executive director of AMC Outdoor Center. I introduced myself as a thru-hiker. He braved himself for some complaints and was caught a bit off balance when I thanked him for what the AMC is doing for thru-hikers. I fessed up about being Angry Andy in the past, but now that I see all the AMC is doing, I’m impressed. He thanked me and wished me a safe and successful hike.

I had to make a few final adjustments to my pack which I was doing in the lounge area while waiting for the AMC shuttle to take me to the trailhead. While I was in line for supper last night, I had started talking to a woman named Cassandra who was part of a family group wanting to climb Mt Washington. She recognized me and introduced me to her husband, Chris, and his father, Jersey Jerry. This was an entire family trip for Jerry’s sons and grandkids to introduce one of the younger grandkids to hiking in the Whites, but with the weather being what it was, they decided to ride the cog rail to the summit rather than ruin any chances for his granddaughter liking hiking. On their way out, Jerry gave me a beautiful peach from their orchard in New Jersey. He claimed that it was just a #2 peach, but it was beautiful, unblemished, and delicious. 

Stitch, who had magic at Pinkham Notch, was also in the lounge. I was able to talk to her one on one once everyone else was gone. She thru-hiked in 1999. She’s also hiked a lot of the international trails that I’ve hiked. She’s up in NH for the month to enjoy the outdoors when she’s able (she suffers from CFS) and give magic to hikers on days where her energy levels are too low to do anything else. 

Day 1 (49), Zealand Falls Hut, 7.7

I caught 12:55 shuttle back to trailhead. It’s a 0.3 mile walk from the road to the trailhead. As I was walking up the lane, I saw a man with some writing on his shirt. From my quick glance, I picked up “understand women.” This must be an old wise man worth listening to. When I stopped to read the shirt entirely it said “Let’s go have a beer, discuss things, and try to understand women”—his wife told me he was still just an apprentice. 

Just at the trailhead, I found more magic. Some angel had left a bunch of bananas, snickers, and oranges. I grabbed a snickers and a banana for a snack in a few miles. I’ve still got almost all the food I started with when I left Pinkham Notch 6 days ago…I’ve gotten magic at the huts, I’ve had a work for stay, the AMC gives us a free soup and 2 free baked goods with our pass, and I’ve stayed at the Highland Canter. If I keep going at this rate, I may not even need to resupply in Lincoln. 

When “Notch” is in a place name, this is not good. In NH, this means you have at least 2500’ climb in and out of the Notch. Today, after 2 good night’s sleep, 4 AYCE meals, and 2 soup and beer deals, I was feeling in top form. 

My knees aren’t hurting, the weather is pleasant, and I’ve gotten magic. I was flying uphill. I was even passing people (I should clarify, I was passing people heading in the same direction I was headed. Granted, one group was 3 men older than me, and another pair included an 8 year old with a pack, but I smoked their asses!). 

Around 3 miles in is Nathan Pond. It’s about a quarter mile off trail but I was feeling so good, I decided to head to the shelter to take a break. Shelters are generally good places for breaks because you can sit down, there’s usually water close by, you can read the log book, and, just in case, there’s always some sort of privy near. Sometimes, in the morning, in a crowded campsite, I can feel a bit rushed in my routines—same goes for bunkhouses with limited porcelain access. 

I’m hiking more blue blazes this trip. Not alternate routes, but out and backs to scenic views or special features. Today, I hiked out to Thoreau Falls where I met Nico. We hiked together the final 2 miles to Zealand Falls Hut. Nico is a great kid, only 47 (in my new playbook, anyone under 50 is a kid). Nico is also an EE but more programming oriented. He’s originally from France but has been in US since he was 24. 

We arrived at Zealand Falls Hut right at 6. Not too far from the hut, we passed a couple of NOBOs who told us they still had work for stay open. I was going to go a little further, but a free hot meal did sound appealing. I checked and got a spot. Nico went on (he was just out for a few days). We said our goodbyes and he took off. 

All totaled, today I hiked 7.7 miles in 4.5 hrs which still included a couple of breaks and several conversations—promising. That’s about 1.5 mph. I might be able to get bigger miles some day. 

Day 2 (50), Garfield Ridge Campsite, 9.8

The good thing (and bad thing) about work for stay is that you get up early. I was hiking before 6:30. I took the blue blaze to Zeacliff—this was where I was going to stay last night if I hadn’t gotten the work for stay. There were gorgeous stealth sites up there and water near the trail junction. I’ll remember this for my return trip. 

It’s only 7 miles from hut to hut today. I stopped at Galehead Hut for a snack, hoping they’d still have some baked goods available, but they were out. They told me they had been busy all morning. I could tell by the number of NOBOs I passed on the way here. I’ve lost count, but it was well over 20. The second bubble has arrived. I imagine everything will be crowded for the next week or two. 

I was delaying heading up to Garfield Campsite because this is the section of trail that finished off my knees in 2018. I’ve got visions of the climb down the waterfall from then and I’m not looking forward to the climb, now. On paper, it’s only 500’ in 0.3 miles, but in memory, it’s much worse. 

As I was passing everyone, I was asking how the waterfall/trail ahead was. Several people told me it was beyond their abilities, but I pointed out they were unharmed and still walking. They must have underestimated their abilities. I started telling myself the same. It turns out, I believe there has been work done on this section of falls. I didn’t remember steps being present before. It really wasn’t that bad. It took me less than 1/2 hour to climb up to the side trail to the campsite. 

While I was getting water (from the trail) I met a NOBO that was originally from Southern Illinois and now lives in St Louis. That makes a total of 4 of us out here. This was “15 Cent”, the less prosperous cousin of 50 Cent.

A lot of people were heading in at the same time. I quickly talked to the camp attendant and got a spot on the platform. As soon as I set my tent up and got inside, it started raining. I followed the rules by cooking and eating in dining tent with 10 other NOBOs. They were somewhat cliquish, but that’s understandable after 1800 miles. 

There must have been well over 30 people here last night. I tried to follow the rules, but I hate leaving my food in bear boxes that are so far from my tent. I slept with my food in my tent (as I usually do). I’m a bad boy. 

Day 3 (51), Garfield Ridge Campsite, ZERO

It stormed last night. This is the highest I’ve camped at during a thunderstorm. I’m at 4300’. When the lightening started, I got woke up by the thunder. I timed the noise delay—it was almost 4 seconds, so I went back to sleep and had the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time. 

When my sister, brother, and I were little, we all had our own rooms. My dad was scared to death of storms—even worse than Bunny is. He would pace from bedroom to bedroom quietly opening the door to make sure each of us was ok. Each of us knew we were safe because our dad was watching over us. I love storms to this day because I have such secure memories attached to them. 

I told Peter, the camp attendant, that I wanted to head over Franconia Ridge today. He started trying to talk me out of it right when I mentioned it. He was pointing out alternative trails and/or suggesting I stay here an extra day. I had already planned for an extra day here so I agreed without issue. It surprised him that an AT thru-hiker didn’t insist on pushing on. I’m headed south. I’ve got no deadline to be finished. I’m out here for 15 months. I’m dry. I’m comfortable. I can always sleep (I’ve still got a few Benadryl left). 

There are 3) things I’ve never seen in AMC territory: 1) a moose, 2) a bear, and 3) a trail work crew. I feel safe violating an AMC rule of not sleeping with your food in your tent, especially on cold rainy nights with a full campsite. There had to be 30 hikers here last night. 

Once everyone else was gone, I broke out my food bag and made me some hot tea to have with my breakfast. I’m sure I’ll probably follow the rules for supper and go cook and eat in the dining area if it’s not raining AND the Benadryl has worn off by then. 

Day 4 (52), Liberty Springs Campsite, 7.6

The zero day paid off big time. I knew as soon as I made it to the summit of Garfield Peak that I had made the right decision. I could see clouds heading towards Franconia Ridge, but I knew they were much higher than the ridge judging by the airplane pulling a glider behind it. 

Garfield lived up to my memories, almost. Peter, the caretaker told me he didn’t think that any work has been done on the trail in the last 5 years, but it definitely wasn’t as bad as my memory has it. I swear there are more steps in the cascade. 

The bog and climb up Mt Lafayette were as I remembered. Once I got above tree line, the walk was quite nice. I really didn’t notice the 1000’ of climbing because the views were so incredible. 

I did talk to one NOBO worth mentioning…Patriarch. Patriarch is retired from the Mayo Institute in Rochester, Minnesota. He’s 69 and had a goal to complete the AT before he turned 70–he’ll make that without any problem. However, he’ll be finishing it on Mt Greylock in Massachusetts so I might get to see him again before he finishes. What I found most amazing about Patriarch is that he’s even here. Before he retired, he went to have his ears cleaned. The nurse noticed a murmur and suggested he get an EKG. A few weeks later when he had it, the cardiologist told him “we need to talk. Now!” His aorta was swollen up to almost 9 cm. He had to have surgery immediately or risk a rupture. Moral of the story: get your ears cleaned. 

The only other section of trail similar to Franconia Ridge is the Sadflebacks in Maine. It’s about the same length above tree line, but has views of lakes to one side where Franconia is mountains every direction. 

I talked to one Forest Service Ranger up top. He told me that he was behind on his clicks but he had counted 433 people, but he was guessing it was over 500 people up there today. I could believe a lot more. It wasn’t unusual for me to have to wait for 25 people to pass before I could get moving again. This has to be the most popular hiking loop in the Whites. 

Once I dropped off of Little Haystack Mountain to just the AT, the trail maintenance proved to be lacking. I still ran into some small groups heading up, but this section of trail is longer and steeper than the more popular Franconia Loop. 

I was in camp and set up before 4. I could easily have made it to town today, but I have reservations for 2 nights at Snowchasers Ski Club starting tomorrow. I can survive one more night of rain. 

All I have left above 4000’ is the Kinsmans and Moosilauke and then I’ll be out of the Whites. Only 25 miles to go and so far, my knees are still functional. 

Day 5 (53),Liberty Springs Trailhead, 2.5

I’ve got to be more careful in my diet selection, especially in the Whites where you sleep on shared platforms. I’ve had suppers based on beans two nights in a row. The woman in the tent next to me had her dog with her. I tried a slow release; the dog growled. I’m in trouble. 

If I hold it in all night, I’ll end up floating to the top of my tent. I don’t know if the cup hooks I screwed into the platform are strong enough to hold the tent down with me floating up. Who knows where I might end up. 

Providence was looking out for me once again. Storms started rolling in about 11 with lots of lightning and thunder. All I had to do was pretend I was Andy Dufresne (Shawshank Redemption) and time my releases after lightening—I was saved. 

Susanna and Pepper were up before 6, packed up, and left quiet as church mice. I guess my lightening cover didn’t work as well as I had hoped. I started packing up as well. I had told my hostel that I would be at the trailhead by 10. I only remember that the trail is rocky and that we are at Franconia Notch (meaning at least a 2500’ decline). 

Except for the trail being partially stream-like (it did rain last night), I had no problems getting down by 9. I guess I can still move quickly on town days. I was in my hostel well before 10. I’ve managed to turn my Nero and Zero into a double Zero. 

EFG

Daily Mileages