Yo-So Whites past Moosilauke

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

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