Category: 2018 Appalachian Trail

Today was deja vu all over again. We ate supper where we ate the last time in town. We ate breakfast at the same diner, we even had the same waitress. Big surprise, she didn’t remember me. We even headed to Walmart again. The big difference was the hurt hiker clinic that Marcia put on at the Barn. One by one, we lay down on a bed while she worked us over. I felt remarkably better after the adjustments yesterday and today. For the first time in months, I could walk up and down stairs without having to place both feet on the same riser each step. It’s almost like I’m no longer 80.

We made a day of hiker errands including a trip to a drug store in addition to Walmart. After spending the morning on errands and trying to repair broken hikers, we went to Mr Pizza (for the 4th time!) for lunch. I also had my 6th banana split in NH—if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

Marcia and Peter are staying at his sister’s house until they can move into their new place in another week. With the first phase of their move complete, Marcia has to return to work on Monday morning, so she would like to have a day to adjust in her new surroundings and develop her new rituals (it’s not that mystical, but they’d like to head home this afternoon). We broke up into a few groups on the walk back to our hostel—Bear was up front by himself, the three women were walking together, and Peter and I hung back talking. We watched everyone cross the highway in front of us and we decided to stick our heads out to see if we could cross. 

Everyone was already across. We stepped off the curb to check on traffic. Immediately, a truck coming towards us stopped and a motorcycle coming behind us stopped, but we noticed traffic behind the motorcycle (another motorcycle) wasn’t slowing down. We waited until we knew we’d be safe to cross. The second motorcycle’s driver was oblivious to what was happening around her. She was looking to her right not paying attention. When she finally looked up, she gripped her brakes and veered to the right of the stopped motorcycle clipping his rear end and slamming into a parked car. I heard Marcia scream and start running toward the car. It hadn’t registered with me yet what had just happened. The motorcycle had slammed into Peter and Marcia’s parked car in front of our hostel.

We spent the next couple of hours talking to police while the fire department cleaned up the wreck, the police chief made out reports, and an ambulance to the female driver to the hospital where it was discovered she had a broken wrist. I measured the skid mark from when she slammed on her brakes—it was well over 30’ in length before she hit the motorcycle in front of her which caused her to let go of the brakes. From the damage to our friend’s car, she was still going 15-20 mph. This was not a great way to end the day for Peter and Marcia.

Once the turmoil died down, Peter and Marcia still had to drive all the way back to Portland. We all said our goodbyes and watched them drive away. Since we had an early start in the morning, the only shuttle to our trailhead was “7:10 sharp, no exceptions!”, we had to be ready to go when we would normally just be waking up. Of course, I’m not referring to when Bear wakes up, but the earliest isn’t necessarily the fastest. Tonight, to switch things up a bit, it was Sassy who kept loosing things—glasses, socks, patience. It’s normally Bear’s prerogative to misplace items—socks, underwear, top secret info.

No matter how much I eat at a meal, and no matter how many meals I overeat at in a day, I still like to have at least 3 meals in a town day. Bunny and Sassy claimed to be too full to eat anything else so it was just Bear and me for supper. I let Bear pick and he chose his all time favorite dining experience which there just happened to be an outlet here in town.  Boys night out at Subway. Bear walked in and asked for his usual. They checked the board behind the counter, found his picture, and made his sandwich. Until tonight, I didn’t realize Subway had a frequent flyer program that runs nationwide. I would recommend anyone reading this blog go to your nearest Subway and order the same meal every day for a month to get your name added to that list. Bear has worked hard for his national recognition.

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When we arrived yesterday, there had already been someone in bed…it was only 4:30. Naturally, the sleeping hiker was a heavy snorer and early riser. Also, he was an inconsiderate night pee-er, refusing to use the red light on his headlamp when shuffling around. I would have beaten him to death if I could have been sure he wouldn’t have enjoyed the warmth from the process (and if I could be certain of victory which I never am—the last fight I was in a fight was in 6th grade with Rob Comerford…Bill Reedy won it and he wasn’t even involved). 

I was uncertain of my leg when I got up. It felt tender but I could put my weight on it. I went to get water for breakfast and noticed that my leg was a little stiff. I just ignored it because stiffness in the morning is par for the course after nearly 1900 miles of hiking. I was guardedly hopeful but not overly confident.

It was cold. Normally, if we were in our tent, I would make coffee in the vestibule on a morning like this. Today, we had to go to the cooking area since the caretaker was sleeping directly above us. In the breakfast area, I started talking to a young couple that was staying in the shelter with us. They were only in their mid 20s but were both in the Coast Guard and loved it. They were talking of retirement at 40 while having jobs they like and enjoy. As with the military, they get ample time off to travel and enjoy their lives. Last year, they spent several weeks hiking in South America. They’ve got their priorities right.

I took off first to see how my leg was going to hold up. The Imp Campsite is on a 0.2 mile side trail downhill from the AT. Before I was even halfway back up to the trail, my leg was throbbing. We had a steep climb up Mt Moriah. Before we even made it to the first view point, my leg was trying to get me to chop it off. There is no way I’m going to be able to make another 300 miles with this leg. I kept falling further and further behind.

In her previous life, Sassy was a occupational therapist. Her specialty was hand rehab but she agreed to have a look at my leg to see if there was anything she could do. Her first recommendation was for me to slide a few feet back so she could push me off the cliff. That way, I wouldn’t slow them down any more. She correctly reasoned that they’d all forget me before they made it to the Maine state line so, no harm done. Bunny’s biggest concern was all the extra weight she’d have to carry. Her second, least preferred course of action was to put some icy hot on my leg and try some K-tape to release the muscle. We took a group vote and option 1 was selected 3-1, but, fortunately, I was allowed a veto.

The placebo affect worked for about 15 minutes before the pain took over all available resources in my brain. We ran into, or rather Bear and Sassy ran into the couple that own the house across from Hikers Welcome Hostel in Glenncliff, NH. I caught up with everyone while they were talking. It was agreed that I should keep walking while they all talked for a bit. When we made the summit of Mt Moriah,  I needed a break. It was already past noon and we had only walked a little over 2 miles.

Chip passed us while we were having some lunch. Bear gave me one of his “super anti-inflammatory pills” to try to mask my pain. Bear and Sassy even offered to carry some of my gear when we started moving again (Bunny was surprisingly quiet when the subject of carrying extra gear came up). I declined the offer. My goal has always been to hike the entire trail and not slack pack if at all possible. While we were eating, Peter and Marcia texted that they were back in the area and would meet us when we got down to the next road crossing. This gave me a ray of hope thinking Marcia might be able to perform a miracle on my leg. 

I was able to find a way of walking where my leg only hurt while going downhill. This was great except for one small problem; we had 3,000’ of downhill in the next 4 miles. The steepest part of the descent was the first 1.6 miles. Every step was torture. Bear and Sassy went on ahead. They would stop periodically for us to catch up. Bunny had a plan to keep me motivated to move forward. She would just walk far enough ahead that I’d lose sight of her and then she’d yell at me to keep moving. I finally got tired of this and told her to just go on ahead and catch up with Bear and Sassy and I’d see them this evening. She did slow down a bit then but I was very depressed thinking that I was going to have to quit hiking. 

It took me almost 2.5 hours to make it 1.6 miles. We could hear voices and calls ahead on the trail. When I caught up, Marcia and Peter had walked in and met Bear and Sassy at the bottom of our steepest descent. Chip was also there. They had been waiting so long that everyone was getting bored. They took turns making calls up the mountain to see if we were coming. They asked me to identify who made which call. I hadn’t heard anything being so immersed in self loathing. Chip said he had dealt with a similar injury when playing soccer. He always just wrapped it tight which helped quite a bit. He then produced an ace bandage which Marcia used to wrap me up. Bunny suggested wrapping my mouth rather than my leg. She always thinks of the greater good—relief for the 5 of them rather than just relief for me. 

I felt the difference immediately. I was able to walk at my full pace for the final 3.5 miles. In fact, we walked faster than our normal pace trying to keep up with Peter. Marcia also insisted that I give up some of the gear in my pack. I was not willing, but she can be quite intimidating when she sets her mind. I gave up my garbage, tent, and food…about 5# total. When we got to the parking lot, she even gave me an adjustment while we waited for the shuttle to take us to the AT Barn.

We just claimed beds and dropped our packs at the Barn. Peter and Marcia were staying at Rattle River where we had wanted to, but they were full. Chip had gotten the last available bed. They followed right behind us and then we all walked to dinner at Mr Pizza. No one showered before bed because we had just had showers 3 days ago and we had agreed to take a zero day tomorrow to allow my leg to recover. Sassy even faked having some knee issues and claimed to want a day to rest as well. It was agreed, they’d wait at least one more day before ditching me.

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We had first breakfast at our campsite then moved on for second breakfast at Carter Notch Hut. I’ll admit, I had somewhat low expectations for the last hut run by the AMC so I was pleasantly surprised when the staff was very friendly and generous—it really caught me off guard. The hut manager joked with us and offered us some free food: pancakes, scrambled eggs, and coffee. I also bought a brownie. Carter Notch Hut is the least visited of the AMC huts. I’m thinking it is kind of a starter hut for new employees which is why the staff is friendly and untainted. Even with this great experience with an AMC Hut, the final rating is 2.5 good huts (Zealand Hut got a half good rating for great soup and friendly-ish staff but half bad for turning us away with an approaching storm—we later heard that they did let Mule stay when he arrived at the height of the storm) which leaves 4.5 bad huts out of 7. Overall, I will leave the Whites with an unfavorable impression of the Appalachian Money Club. Maybe, over time, my bad memories will fade and I’ll think highly of the AMC—after-all, I am now willing to hike, again, any trail we hiked last year.

We did run into a few people at the hut when we walked up.  Chip had passed us on the way up Wildcat yesterday and today he was headed to Imp Campsite which is the same targeted destination we have for the day. We talked with Chip for a bit and he was very happy to finally meet someone who started before him this year. It took him to almost leaving New Hampshire before actually passing some fellow thru-hikers. I was glad our snail like pace could bring joy to another hiker. Chip says his knees are hurting him, rubbing bone on bone, but he has had this problem before hiking the AT. This does wonder for our egos, a man in constant pain for six and a half months is still faster than we are. I remind myself that we CHOOSE to hike slowly. This is a choice. We are doing this on purpose…slowly. 

We had yet another tough climb up to Carter Dome with a few view points along the way. Nearing the top of the Dome, we became surrounded by a storm. We caught up with Chip squatting in the woods off to the side of the trail.  I thought he needed a little privacy, but his pants were up. He was just trying to make himself small and wait out the storm.  Bear checked his weather app and it showed us in an system shaped like an alligator’s mouth about to chomp us. Carter Dome was actually splitting the storm up around us. We waited for the storm to pass to keep Bunny calm and to give Chip some company.

5 mountains seems to be the new daily quota: Carter Dome, Mt Height, South, Middle, and North Carter or as I prefer, Billy, Rosalyn, and Jimmy. The morning had started out so promising with blue skies and few clouds to being completely clouded over in just a few minutes. Mt. Washington is just behind us (less than 15 miles) and it’s recognized as the most volatile weather location in the world and it’s effect is spilling over on to us today.

Mt Height was exposed, cold, and rainy—just the type of summit experience Sassy promised us when we all started hiking together. They promised and they have delivered. Going over the bald, exposed, windy summit turned my umbrella inside out.  We noticed lots of moose tracks and poop, but they were smarter than us and remained under cover today. We did stop in Zeta Gap for a snack before continuing on to the Carter family.

My legs were getting tired but nothing serious. The trail had a lot of steep climbing up and down today. It was an ideal hiking day with the steady rain and fog, descending slick, wet rocks with big drops. My left leg was feeling really strange just above my knee, but not my knee. Coming down North Carter, my left leg lost all strength. It was after a tough downhill scramble. We kept leapfrogging Chip. I used the excuse of waiting for Claudia and Chip to get down to get in a break. 

After the last big downhill, the ache turned into all-out pain. With my painful limp into the Imp Campsite, I was falling way behind and could barely walk. Sassy had told me that the muscle in question is an “all or nothing” one. When it gets fatigued, it no longer works. I just needed to get a good night of sleep to recover.  I sure hope she’s right because it is the worst pain I’ve ever experienced while hiking.

We couldn’t find a platform big enough for our two tents. Since Sassy hates staying in shelters, Bunny and I agreed to head to the shelter. Chip is a hammocker so he found a couple of trees and was all set. It was a full campsite and shelter tonight. The caretaker had lost her tent today so she was forced to stay in the shelter with all of the “peasants” and was NOT a happy camper. Everyone that was already in the shelter had spread out all of their wet crap taking up every hook and all the floor space.  I was a little ticked that no one offered to move any of their crap to make some room for us.  Bunny and I just started moving people’s crap so we could have some room. There were only 6 people in there taking up all the space in what is designated as a 12 person shelter.

We caught up with Bear and Sassy in the cooking area. There were several people hanging around on a outcropping below us. Bunny went down to have a look and discovered the most beautiful sunset we have seen on this trek. If the old adage is right, we are going to have a delightful day tomorrow (if we’re sailors). 

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Bunny got me up too early. Yes, it was the agreed upon time, but still too early. She insisted I shower again after only a day and a half. I think she’s getting soft. We met everyone (Peter, Marcia, Bear, and Sassy) outside at 7:15 so we could walk to White Mountain Cafe for breakfast. Sassy checked their website last night to verify they were able to support her chosen lifestyle of gluten-free. 

When we got back to the hotel, Peter and Marcia shuttled us back to Pinkham Notch. Bear and Sassy were on the first shuttle which gave us time to pack. I hadn’t done anything to prepare last night, but I knew we’d have enough time while Peter and Marcia made the 7 mile round trip. When it was our turn, I was almost ready. I had been slightly delayed while enjoying the coolness of porcelain for the last time for at least 3 days. Hiker needs are basic. We think of 3 things only: 1) what to eat, 2) where to walk to, and 3) where to poop. Everything else in life is fluff. 

We said our goodbyes in the Pinkham Notch AMC parking lot. It was tough for us because we haven’t seen Marcia and Peter for almost 3 years. We are seeing places along the trail they took us when we visited them. If things had worked out to plan, they would be hiking the hundred mile wilderness with us, but sometimes life gets in the way. We have taken too much time to get up here and they have had some turbulence to deal with the last month. To top it off, Peter’s mom has just gotten out of the hospital and he’s going to have to make it down to CT to check up on her. It was great that we got to spend some time with them. 

Peter and Marcia picked up another hiker, Boy Scout, to take him into Gorham. As he was leaving, he gave us some confusing directions telling us that there was a trail reroute. In a way, this was true, but it wasn’t the AT. We ended up retracing our steps (so I could tag up) and get on the right path. Peter had told us the right way to go. Peter and Marcia also told us they had to get off trail here for a week in 1983 to attend Dan and Jannette’s wedding. We had all met 6 years ago on the West Highland Way. 

The first mile was great. We’re right next to the Pinkham Notch Visitor Center which is an AMC money maker. This means the trail is well maintained in order to extract maximum dollars from their preferred visitors. Once we turned away from the ponds, the trail took a turn for the worse. The trail condition of the AT away from AMC Revenue Protection Areas (aka Forest Protection Areas) is not entirely AMC’s fault. When NH built their section of the AT, they wanted it to be the toughest section of the trail. Rumor has it that ME and NH both wanted rugged and difficult sections. We’re smack dab in the middle of 200 of the toughest miles on the trail. The old guard do not want to change or improve the trails. 

We climbed 1000’ in 0.6 miles. That may not sound particularly bad, but it was a real kick in the balls for me. It’s no secret that I’m the slowest in our group, but today was terrible for me. There were sections so steep and I was feeling so weak, that I actually lost my vision for short periods of time while climbing. I forced us to stop a few times so I could fuel up. This section wasn’t nearly as bad as Kinsman had been, but I think we are dealing with an adrenaline let down after the Presidential Range. 

Sassy didn’t fare much better. Someone slipped her a Mickey at breakfast…or maybe gave her some non-gluten-free bread on her sandwich. Whichever happened, the results were the same. She was running for the woods to take care of basic hiker need #3. She was a trooper and defended her gluten-free lifestyle choice. If a sandwich does this much damage to her, I think she’s made the right choice. 

We did catch up with a couple other nobos climbing up the mountain. One we have met a few times before—Thumper who is 60. Chip we haven’t met until today, but he started about a week after we did. He was happy to see other people out here as long as he has been. Thumper said that when he started, he thought 60 was the new 20 until all the young pups started blowing by him. I gave him my opinion that 55 is the new 80 and that we’ll probably be the last ones on the trail. 

There were views along the way today, but we’ve seen enough of the Whites. We just want to get out of NH now that we’ve been over Mt Washington.  Alas, we still have about another 30 miles to go before we get to Maine. We’ve decided that this is why Wildcat Mountain has the reputation it does of hitting thru-hikers hard. We’ve done the worst of the Whites and we just want to see Maine (especially before the snow starts—we saw trees starting to change color). 

All four of us were dragging today. Even Bear was getting the Whites blues. Ultimately, it took us almost 8 hours to cover less than 6 miles today. Keep in mind, I forced a few snack stops, we had a few bathroom breaks, we took a long lunch break on top of Wildcat D, and we had to stop and filter water before we could camp. It was a tougher day than we were mentally prepared for. 

Guthook saved the day and gave us info about a great stealth site just outside of Carter Notch Hut’s revenue protection area. We got to camp at 6:30 even after our “let down” day. We had plenty of time to set up tents and cook before the sun went down. We’re only about a quarter mile from the hut, so we’ll stop in the last AMC hut in the morning to see what new kind of let down we can encounter. Maybe since Labor Day is over, they might be nice to us. Right now, I’m only happy with Lake of the Clouds. “Forgive and forget,” Hell no! “Remember and bash” is my motto. Don’t worry, Big Agnes, I haven’t completely forgotten you. 

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Marcia and Peter had told us they would arrive mid to late morning. Even though this is a zero day, Bear still finds it impossible to sleep late (with the possible exception of bodily harm from Sassy, but he knows hers are empty threats). We all went to breakfast at 8 followed by a trip to the local outfitter. 

Bunny and I headed back to the room for a nap while we waited for Marcia and Peter to arrive. I woke to look out the window to see Peter walking across th parking lot looking for us.  I didn’t realize it has been 3 years since we have spent time together. Because of their current living situation (currently lacking a home for a couple of weeks) they decide to spend the night with us if we can secure them the thru-hiker discount. This is not a problem at all being post holiday weekend and nearly empty. 

The six of us went for lunch at BBQ then took a “quick” trip to Walmart for us to resupply. In light of the recent stress of packing up their lives and moving, Marcia took a nap in lieu of Walmart. Peter and Marcia are strong supporters of buying local and eating healthy. Peter was visibly shaken by visiting the great Satan’s lair. Bunny showed him her trick of coping with Walmart by defacating in the parking lot. (Disclaimer—my wife does not actually poop in Walmart parking lots, but she does get severe stomach cramps which are a usual precursor.)

We did manage to spend some time alone with Peter and Marcia playing cribbage until supper. We’re not the most exciting people in town and were in bed by 8:30. I don’t think they minded the quiet evening after their last month of stress.  This was a great day of relaxed visiting with old and new friends. I wish things had worked out differently and Peter and Marcia could have joined us on the trail. They seemed to really hit it off with Bear and Sassy. 

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This was our favorite campsite so far.  There was probably room for 4 tents total, but we used one of the “wings” of our secret camp as a privy. It rained a little last night, but I’m sure Mt Washington protected us from what was probably a big storm on the other side of the mountain. It started out a little overcast, but today promises to be a great weather day. 

The hike today, is literally, all downhill from here. Bunny and I took off a few minutes before Bear and Sassy.  I had my eye on Osgood Tentsite just a couple miles downhill from us (when I said we used one wing as a privy, I didn’t mean an all inclusive “we”—I still prefer to not dig holes if I can poop in a communal turd grave).  Bunny and I got to the campsite trail intersection and dropped our packs. We took turns filtering water and leaving a slight brown trace. 

While we were there, 5 other people passed us on their way down. They had all stayed on the other side of Mt Madison below treeline—an option we didn’t choose because of the extra climbing and mileage involved. Bear and Sassy quickly joined us and got some water. We had a small snack before continuing. We were all excited about the certainty of a shower and town food tonight with less than 5 miles to go. 

We still hadn’t secured accommodations in town yet. In another 2.5 miles, we got to Low’s Bald Spot which allegedly has a phone signal. I was the only one willing to climb up to the view spot because, honestly, no overlooks could even come close in comparison to our last few days in the Presidentials. I did get a signal and found out there was no room left at Libby House B&B or The Barn. I went ahead and made reservations at the Royalty Inn in Gorham figuring this was our best bet. If someone wasn’t happy with this option, they can climb back up and change the reservations. I didn’t think this would happen since the wear and tear of the last few days was taking its toll on everyone. 

Pinkham Notch visitor center was an easy 2 mile walk from here. We stopped for our AMC $6 special consisting of bread and soup. The soup was the best so far, even better than Zealand Hut. These were giant bowls. Bunny couldn’t finish hers, but No Prob Llama came in and helped her out. 

We tried to get a ride to town but, once again, our only option was Kevin and “Homey don’t play that no more. “ Bear worked his magic and headed to the parking lot.  He managed to yogi us a ride to Gorham from two guys that had come up for the day to hike up and down Mt Washington. They had already hiked over 12 miles to the top and back. They took one whiff of us and agreed that we could all ride in the back. A 5 mile open air ride sounded good to us—much better than a road walk.

The first order of business was not food, but a nap—at least it was for Bunny.  I was charged with laundry duty since everything we had was dirty. It had been clear all day, but the rain came down in torrents while I was washing the laundry (by hand—how else can you do laundry, I have to load the machines and that requires hands). After the four of us showered—separately, we’re close to Bear and Sassy but not that close—we made our obligatory trip to Mr Pizza for supper.  When Marcia and Peter arrive tomorrow, we’ll be able to spend the day with them smelling nice. 

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The dungeon door creeks and clangs whenever slightly moved. I know this for a fact because I had to get up 3 times during the night. If the door didn’t wake everyone up, I still had my Big Agnes sleeping pad with built in amplifier to ensure that I was the inmate most likely to get shanked. The only reason I didn’t wake everyone up was because of the mouse in the next room trying to chew his way through the wall only shut up when I made noise. Sleep was less than plentiful in the dungeon. 

Bear managed to sleep in until 5:15. We were all slightly nervous knowing that we were climbing Mt Washington (the tallest mountain in the northeast and recognized location of the worst weather on earth—what could go wrong?). The agreed upon time to get up was 6. I could almost hear Sassy grinding her teeth. She is less of a morning person than Bunny. She had her toothbrush out and was shaving the handle down to a point. I was praying for Bear to get out alive but there was no way in hell I was going to get up and defend him before 6:01—he was on his own. 

It’s amazing how people get up like dominos falling down. Bear got up, packed, and left just a couple minutes before 6. Sassy got up at 6, exactly, and exited with her toothbrush in hand. Bunny got up 10 minutes later (apparently not wanting to miss the show yet still be far enough back to not get caught in the middle).  I was next at 6:30. I am the fastest of all us us getting ready so I take advantage of the extra time to lie in bed concentrating on how full I can get my bladder and still have enough time to make it to the bathroom. I grabbed my pack and left everything else on my bunk and ran for the toilet. 

Breakfast was a sad affair. Bunny and I split a package of pop tarts and a bag of bacon jerky. I managed to get a half cup of coffee from the pot we are allowed to buy from. The lords and ladies had gotten up early and drained it by 6:45. Because this pot was available for thru-hikers to purchase from, it doesn’t get refilled until after all the “paying guests” finish eating which starts at 7 and usually runs until 8:30. When I went to the kitchen and asked for more coffee, they very kindly said “no problem, we’ll send more out right away” and a girl came out with a full pot to pour for everyone that is not a thru-hiker. 

I was the first ready to go having accepted the fact that 1/2 cup is all I’m getting. Bear was almost ready but ran into what can only be called the “great brief caper of ‘18”. Sometime throughout the night, he lost, misplaced, or had stolen his underwear. All eyes turned to Sassy who said “go ahead, check my pack—I dare you!” Obviously, she’s not over the sock incident from The Lookout. In the end, Bear decided to go California for the day just about the time that we could get some leftovers and coffee (which we didn’t stay for).  

While I was waiting for Bear to pillage his and Sassy’s packs, my eyes started acting up from the weird lighting in the hut. My vision occasionally goes haywire from my glaucoma. This really put me on edge with my forward vision being filled with rainbow colored lightening bolts. Usually I have to close my eyes for 20 minutes to get this to stop, but we were starting up the final 1300’ climb to the summit of Mt Washington. It was foggy and I was worried about wet rocks. I just kept my head down and stared at the ground as I walked. I don’t remember my vision clearing up, but it did.

None of us stopped on the way up. Let me make a minor correction to that.  None of us stopped to rest on the way up to the summit. Sassy did stop when she decided to fall sideways as she is prone to do. She was trying to do three things at once: walk, breathe, and look up. TWO is the magic number while climbing Mt Washington—she was reaching too high. In all fairness, anyone not looking at their feet while climbing on a bald without a real trail to follow is risking a fall. Sassy’s tribute of blood to Father Washington was enough to satisfy. The clouds started clearing as we approached the summit. 

We got our pictures on the summit but still didn’t have good views so we did what any thru-hiker does when they are trying to kill time—we went to the snack bar to eat. I don’t like the AMC because they have created an artificial class system on the trail: AMC guests (aka money gods) vs. thru-hikers (aka cheap scum that the forest service makes us let pass through our money squeezing venue known as the White Mountains). The beauty of Mt Washington State Park is that they treat everyone exactly alike—stupid people with money that we must pry from their hands. I appreciate the honesty and spent $33.50 at the snack bar on absolute junk food. Not only that, I did it with a smile and pride to be among equals. We all walked out shaking our heads and giving each other knowing looks that we had just spent $2.50 for a $0.25 bag of Doritos. Solidarity, Brother!

We sat at a table and did our best to consume as many calories as possible as slowly as possible to allow the sun to burn off the morning fog.  The grill opens at 11 and we got there around 9. Of course, at 10:45 everyone else was ready to go when 3 cog rail loads of comrades descended on the cafe. To be honest, I could have eaten 5 hot dogs in another 15 minutes but I submitted to peer pressure and saved my $25 for something else down the road. 

The fog was burning off. The summit was clear with blue skies above, but only the summit. We couldn’t stay in the middle of all these clean smelling comrades, so we started down the north side. By the time we got to the railroad crossing, the clouds had completely lifted. We had amazing views all around. We had less than 6 miles to the next AMC hut and its anticipated disappointment.  We walked for almost an hour before we stopped on the side of the trail to catch some rays in the cool afternoon breeze…and eat a snack. 

The Presidentials start with Jackson then move on to schizophrenic Pierce(Clinton) then pass over Franklin (he’s an honorary mention)—all of which we did in the last 2 days. Today we went over Washington, around Jefferson (he would have been tried for treason except for his brilliant writing), and around Adams (rounding out the first three presidents). By the time we got to Madison Spring Hut, we were running low on water, food, and energy (and possibly patience as may be seen).

The huts are supposed to sell soup to thru-hikers (and clean smelling people) for $2 a bowl with $1 refills. I’m pretty sure the crews of the huts split this money so very few of them actually follow the AMC guidelines. Only Lake of the Clouds has so far. I’ve been pretty disappointed by how the crews treat thru-hikers as well in case you haven’t been able to pick up on it in my rants. I waited patiently while some “guests” butted in front of me to check in. When they finally got settled, the Hutmaster kindly asked if I was checking in. When I said “No, I’d like to buy some soup” the attitude went from friendly to rude, “$3 per bowl.” I replied “No, $2 is the standard at the huts.” “Not at this hut.” I was done with AMC huts, the rudeness of the staff, and the inconsistency of their own rules. 

Bear got a bowl, pulled out his Big Agnes tent and set it on the table next to the bowl as he ate it. He was forcing me to choose which I hated more, BA or AMC. Congratulations Big Agnes, you are no longer the organization I hate the most. From this day forward, I will only take water from AMC huts and leave poop in its place since they like to tell me how much it costs for them to handle hiker poop. I’d really like to know how much the organization leadership takes home in salaries.  Let me throw out one caveat about the AMC, only the campsite caretakers seem to care about thru-hikers and treat them decently. I don’t mind spending the $5 a night for them (actually I do since no where else on the trail do we have to pay, but that’s a whole different rant for later—I’m far from done with bitching about the AMC). 

Bear thought he’d ask about “work for stay” just to see what the response would be. It was less than kind with the response being “it’s early and there are campsites only a mile or two away.”  Bear had not been a part of my exchange and had paid the extra for the soup. After we left, Deluxe came in and asked and got a very rude response. I think there’s a hutmaster that has been in the woods too long. 

We left at 4:30 to climb Mt Madison which turned out to be a much more difficult task than the 700’ climb and 1.6 mile walk to treeline appeared on paper. One other thing the AMC is “supposed” to do with its revenue is trail maintenance. However, they only maintain trails where the “money gods” travel regularly. There is a direct path from Madison Spring Hut to a parking lot that doesn’t go over Mt Madison so the trail over Mt Madison is not maintained. 

We pulled into a stealth site a little over 2 hours after we left the hut with a storm coming up behind us. The only thing saving us was that the center of the storm came over Mt Washington which held it back. We set up our tents in one of the sweetest spots we have camped on in our 203 nights out. The trail leading in was barely wide enough for our packs to fit in. It didn’t rain on us because Washington had changed the course of the storm, so we sat together and cooked our suppers before turning in for the night. We heard some strange animal noises in the woods, but weren’t worried because nothing big could get through the trees. I kept our food bag in our tent until I heard Sassy snoring away and then I tucked it under their vestibule.  Big Agnes may not be number 1 on my list, but they are number 2.

EFG

It’s a good thing no one else showed up and took the other half of the platform last night; we had a short, intense rain in the middle of the night. Because we were able to move Bear and Sassy’s tent enough to spread out our vestibules (but not out of snoring or farting range), none of our stuff got wet. Fortunately for me, the rain happened between my third and fourth perimeter checks so I didn’t have to pee in the rain.  I did, however, forget that it rained until I put my stocking feet in my wet crocs. 

Nature helped us in a better way. It was fairly brisk last night and still cloudy this morning. Bear ducked down into his sleeping bag so he didn’t wake up with the sun. It was Sassy who betrayed us when she stumbled out to break morning wind and water a little after 7. We decided to just have a leisurely cup of coffee before heading up to the hut to see if we could score some food.  Not a chance with this crew. I did find out the hut master has been sick and is returning today. We settled for buying some coffee cake and coffee. 

On the way back to the tent, I talked to some of the hikers that were doing work for stay. They told us they had asked for breakfast (after we had come in) and they let them do work. Once again, because we actually bathe weekly and shave, no one in the AMC believes we are thru-hikers. We get the honor of being treated like lower class citizens without any of the welfare benefits we are eligible for. My opinion of the AMC is on a daily pendulum and I’m back to hating them again.

Bunny and I were packed and ready to leave before Bear and Sassy, so we went back to the hut one more time to get water and add to the AMC poop load which they so fondly remind us of their excellent handling at every opportunity. The temporary “nazi in charge” was not around so staff people were a bit nicer. They offered us fresh soup and brownie bombs. The soup was really good. I had two bowls of tomato basil vegetable soup with couscous (no discount for refills which we are supposed to get).  I have to steal food to break even or not pay for burnt crap. Yes, my constant hanging with Bunny has gained me entry into the criminal underworld. 

Finally, just before 11, we hit the trail. We started climbing from the hut up to Mount Pierce/Clinton (multiple personality disorder is no longer just for people, this mountain cannot decide who it is named for). After 0.02 miles, Sassy realized they had not gotten any water (which was their reason for going back to the hut). They turned around to fetch water and we kept going. It was now that Bunny realized that, once again (for the 192nd time), she did not perform her only required morning task which is to turn on the tracker. Random people hiking down the trail know this is her only task and often ask if she has turned on the tracker to which she always replies “I forgot.”

A hiker in front of us heard us stop and asked if Bunny had forgotten again. This turned out to be Gina from Rhode Island. She hadn’t heard of us, per say, but she was aware of thru-hikers and the women who forget their only task. Our group expanded to 5 for the climb over Pierce/Clinton and Ike. Gina is “red lining” the Whites which mean she is in the process of hiking ALL of the trails in the region. Today, she was catching the back side of Mount Eisenhower followed by the Edmonds Trail back to her car. Last year, she hiked all 48 4K mountains in NH. 

We all dropped our packs at the junction of the Edmonds Trail and the AT. I had faced a moral crisis earlier and considered hiking over Mount Eisenhower on the blue blaze trail. It’s actually .2 miles longer than the AT. Up to this point, I have not missed any white blazes and have tagged up on the trail whenever we get off for any reason (town, shelter, hut, etc.). The price required for me to do this was too high. I wanted everyone to agree to not mention that I had “blue blazed” until their death beds. Bear was already shaking with anticipation. I could see that he would break within 30 seconds of us stepping off the trail. Instead, I got everyone to agree to walk up the backside (how tough can that be when one of our mascots is “Ass”). 

Coming back down Mount Ike, we had to say goodbye to Gina. She was heading back to her car and we were headed to Lake of the Clouds Hut. We stopped for some lunch before tackling Mount Franklin and bypassing Mount Monroe on the way to the hut. We were trying to not get in too early or too late, but just right so we could get a “work for stay” which entitles us to sleep for free on the dining room floor and eat any leftovers from the masters’ dinner. Worst case, we hoped for a spot in the dungeon. 

After a bit of confusion where we thought we had gotten work for stay AND banishment to the dungeon, we got some soup and bread to take the edge off of our hunger. I had three bowls (but wanted more until I got Bunny shamed). Even though I’ve lost 35#, I still overeat. In the end, we just got $10 bunks in the dungeon which gives us the freedom to leave at whatever time we want in the morning (if we can pick the lock). The down side means no table scraps. Four other thru-hikers came in after us and get to assume the roles of table wenches and pissboys to get the lords’ scraps. I love living “trickle down” to the fullest. 

When everyone got kicked out of the dining room in order for the tables to be set for dinner, we assumed our rightful positions in the subterranean realm under the dining room. I found out that we could have saved the $10 if only we would agree to be tortured by the rich children romping above us. Money is tight but I couldn’t get Bunny to agree to take one for us. I tried to sell Bear and Sassy into bondage, but they had already paid. At least that meant we would have plenty of time to turn on and off our headlights to kill the vermin trying to eat us. 

The dungeon wasn’t all that bad except for being directly under the dining room.  After supper, they had mingling games which required everyone to move around endlessly above us. The kicker was the elephants that stampeded through the dining hall. I wanted to bang the ceiling with a broom, but the other inmates were afraid to draw attention to us less the lords above renew their lust for torture. We just lay awake listening to the merriment above whilst we poor peasants wallowed in filth and darkness. I’m so sorry I’ve brought Bunny to this level. At least she still has “dungeon status”—she’s in the top bunk and doesn’t have to get up to pee. 

EFG 

There is not a thing in the world that wakes you up like putting on wet underwear. Well, I’m sure the cold, wet nose of a dog sniffing your bare butt might be just as stimulating, but that only lasts for a split second where the wet underwear has staying power. We had decided last night that we were going to have a small day today, so we were in no rush this morning. First things first, breakfast buffet. 

Just like in Shenandoah, sometimes the house looses. This was one of those times because there was bacon on the buffet. I can eat bacon until the grease is oozing out of all of my pores. Bunny tells me I even sound like a pig when I clear my throat. I’m sure this means that cremation won’t be an option for me—everyone will just assume there’s a pig roast at the funeral. It’s a shame I’m not more aggressive…”you want a piece of me?”

After breakfast, we still had the issue of resupply.  We tried to get the staff to drive us without success. We tried yogi-ing a ride without success. We tried to use a Star Trek transporter without success. We were left with just one option after calling several different shuttle services…let’s call him, Kevin, mainly, because that is his name. 

Kevin is a life long resident of New Hampshire—Live Free and Die (or Die?). Whichever way the motto may be doesn’t really matter because NH people are NOT going to be told how to do anything. Kevin agreed to take us to the local gas station, wait for us while we purchased lots of healthy food options, and then take us back to the trailhead. He would perform these services (drive a total of 9 miles and wait up to 20 minutes while we shop) for a mere $50. 

We had no choice but accept the deal. Bunny and I had no problem finding a few days worth of food, or rather, a few days worth of preservatives masquerading as food, but Sassy had some issues since she has chosen to live a gluten free lifestyle. When she ingests gluten, her joints hurt and she produces tremendous amounts of brown liquids which slow her down while walking, but it’s still a lifestyle choice which we all support because we have no desire to relive the trails of VT again.

It had been agreed that Kevin would wait for up to 20 minutes for us to shop but now after 5 minutes, he was getting impatient. It was also agreed that he would provide us safe transport but the truck’s brakes were squealing constantly while the vehicle was moving and there was a scary shimmy when the truck was moving at speeds in excess of 1 mph. He’s ripping us off but we agreed to that up front. What we didn’t agree to was the constant “ding, ding, ding” for Kevin NOT wearing his seatbelt. “By gawd, this is New Hampshire. (Live free and die!) No politician is going to tell me to wear a seat belt.” Not to mention, it probably would not have stretched far enough to cover him but that’s a different tangent than the tangent I was pursuing. He can wait. 

On the way to the trailhead, Bear was getting the money together to pay him. He asked me for my share but all he had was $40 for his part. I thought he was going to tip him $10 and I was not happy about that. Sensing money at hand, Kevin offered to make us a deal that since we were so late in the year, he’d take us up to Baxter for $100 a piece so we could flip and not worry about Baxter closing on us. He also tried to make small talk about how there needs to be trash cans at every road crossing because he would just throw his garbage out rather than carry it. We all believed him on this point. I asked him how many times he had thru-hiked sensing from his girth that it was a number less than zero. 

To my relief, Bear did not tip for the ride. We quickly got our gear and disembarked so Kevin could be on his way. We did leave a few pieces of trash in the bed of his pickup feeling pretty confident he wouldn’t notice the additional items when/if he ever cleans the truck. We all packed up on the side of the road in preparation for our climb up Mt Webster. 

We have climbed enough mountains by now that we can remember which is the worst to date. That would be Kinsman just before the first hut. Webster was not on the same level of steepness as Kinsman, but it did have a few short sections which were similar enough that I broke out in a stuck pig sweat. It was clear that Bunny was having some difficulty as she kept falling further and further behind.

Bunny has very tight tolerances on every comfort zone concerning her body. If we are at home in the winter and the temperature strays up to 71: open all the windows so we can cool off, or in the summer, turn on the AC full blast (I’ve given up trying to explain that the AC doesn’t cool faster by turning the thermostat down to 50 which if we do cool the house down to 62 she tries to turn on the heat). The point is, there’s a very fine line between normal and exaggerated Bunny extremes. Today was one of those days.

We decided to carry almost 5 days worth of food (all healthy sized meals) plus snacks and city food (subs—yes, bread is a luxury item on the trail) for lunch today. Normally, I try to carry the tent, stove, fuel, and all of the food to keep weight off of Bunny’s hips, but with all the food we had today, I had her carry a couple extra pounds (she insisted on the 24 ounce Arizona Tea and I hate the crap so that is in her pack with the sandwiches). Bunny’s weight tolerance is 28#. If she tips the scales at even 4 ounces more, she starts crawling up the trail. I estimate her pack was almost 31#. Snails were passing her like she was standing still (because she was). The only thing that would get her going is a moose sighting (not likely or believable) or I take more weight off of her. 

It worked to get her going, but now I was well beyond my tipping point. I was going so slow now that Bunny passed me (trust me, that is slooowww!). Bear and Sassy were so far ahead of us that I thought we might never see them again. They are coming to the pinnacle of their hiking bodies where we are so far past that are weaker than when we started in GA. They did wait for us at overlooks but they would be all cooled off by the time I caught up that I felt bad holding them up. 

At the top of Webster, we got our first really clear views of the dreaded Mt Washington. Bunny has amplified it to Everest in its proportions. Once we get past Washington (so the thinking goes) all will be well, flat, and easy. We sat on top of Webster while we ate our lunch and watched Mt Washington. We could see the smoke billowing out of the cog railroad engines climbing up the side of the mountain. It was an absolutely gorgeous day; warm and not a cloud in the sky. Just this behemoth lay between us and success—how will we ever traverse that monster mountain?

Here comes our answer. While eating lunch, a youngish guy and his dachshund, Dinner Roll, came climbing up from the other direction.  He told us Dinner loved to climb mountains and had been on every 4k peak in NH including Mt Washington. How intimidating can a mountain be if a dachshund has climbed it. Also, take into account that the dog was 8 years old and stood 8” tall. In Bunny’s defense, the dogs hips were in better shape than hers and he wasn’t carrying a pack so it’s not a comparison of equals, but the dog walked all by himself. 

After watching Dinner negotiate the trail, Bunny became calmer about the trail ahead. If an 8” dog can hike the trail, surely she can manage. The biggest and steepest part of our climb was already behind us for today. We just had a ridge walk and Mt Jackson to get over today before we stop at the Mizpah Spring Hut for the night.  It’s amazing to be at 4000’ and end up in a bog. 

We were hoping to possibly get a work for stay at Mizpah Hut, but two other hikers had already secured spots which meant only 2 of us had a chance. Bear tried asking if there were any hut vacancies hoping we might be able to work out a deal. There were two spots open. If we would pay $170/person for two people, the other two could have work for stay. He tried to negotiate a deal to get the spots but it wasn’t happening. 

Instead, we headed to Nauman tentsite to set up camp. There were downed trees everywhere; we found out there had been a microburst last October. With the amount of downed trees, we were afraid someone had gotten injured but, fortunately, no one was camping that late in the season.  We got permission to set up on the overflow platform, but only if we could stay on half of it. Bear asked what time we could assume no one else was coming in so we could spread out—neither one of us could pull out our vestibules being so close together. We got the go ahead to take the whole platform if no one else showed up by 8:15.  We synchronized watches and began our wait. 

After we cooked supper, I took our food bags up to the bear box. The first bear box was beat to hell, the second bear box was too small, but the third bear box was just right. The caretaker told me a bear had tried to get into the beat up box just last week but couldn’t get it opened. Instead, it tried to roll the box down hill and break it open. I’m very surprised a bear would come around a hut and campsite right next to each other with so many people hanging around. I think it was really just someone pissed off at the AMC and they’re using the bear as a cover story.  There’s no limit to how low the AMC will go to try to make themselves look good.

EFG

Today was our 200th day on the AT. By latest NASA estimates, it would take less than 300 days to get to Mars. We should be 2/3 of the way to the angry red planet by now, yet here we are only about half way through the angry white state of New Hampshire. We’re eating the same food we would be eating on an extended space mission. We are bathing about as often as we would on an extended space mission. We smell about the same as we would on an extended space mission. About the biggest difference is it only costs about $12 each time we poop in the Whites whereas it would cost over $20,000 for a BM in space—we are, literally, saving shitloads of money by hiking the AT. 

The Brown students were friendly, but they are taking a zero day, today, so they stayed up much later than us.  They sat outside of our tent telling stories and talking until the late hour of 9p. Bunny and I tried drugging up on Benadryl to sleep, but we couldn’t fall asleep until they went to hang their bear bags. They were a very enthusiastic lot cheering for each throw of the rope until Sassy had had enough and yelled “shut up.” They were afraid to move or make any sounds for the rest of night, but we were finally able to sleep.

This morning, they offered us pancakes to make amends. We gladly accepted and pretended that none of us had yelled at them or threatened their short lives last night. Unlike Sassy, Bunny and I did not verbalize our thoughts, but it was clear that they were hanging in the air. We could almost hear the sighs of relief as we headed out of camp. I looked back to see one young girl crying and begging to go home because she had been so frightened by the old people. I could hear her between sobs saying “I haven’t been that afraid since my parents threatened to take away my credit cards freshman year.” She was clearly suffering from PTSD. 

The hike we planned for today was a very non-strenuous 7ish miles to Crawford Notch. We stopped at Thoreau Falls side trail and agreed to hike the .2 miles to have a look. It was a beautiful Falls, but more than the Falls was the view back up Zealand Mountain where we had been just yesterday—well worth the side trip. When we returned to our packs, we met one of the girls that had gotten a “work for stay” slot at Zealand Hut last night. Like the vast majority of 20 somethings hiking the trail, she had her ear buds in. She seemed annoyed to have to take one out to be able to communicate with the non-electric world. She just meekly smiled, said thanks for the info about the falls, and hiked on. God, I love technology. 

It had cooled off quite a bit already today and the wind was picking up. We all agreed to stop at Ethan Pond Shelter to have lunch. Since we hadn’t stayed at a campsite last night, I had not had the opportunity to drop a $12 load on the AMC as of yet. I put my head down and barreled on ahead in anticipation of relief to come. I saw the sign when I entered the revenue protection area, but in my sweaty, brown blaze haze, I completely missed the turn to the campsite. It wasn’t until I hit the other end of the revenue protection zone that I realized what I had done. Time was now critical. I had to run 1/4 mile back to find the side trail. Instead of being first to the shelter, I was last. To my joy and relief, everyone else was already done with the privy. I almost felt like tipping the AMC because I knew this one would cost them much more than usual $12 to deal with. 

When I wobbled in, it was apparent to everyone that they had a bit more time than they had originally thought. Bear tried to dry out his tent at the shelter while they ate and I did my thing. After my $100 lunch break, I was feeling more like myself and could enjoy the hiking once again. I took off.

I quickly caught up with a couple of old ladies out for a day hike. They had been up to Ethan Pond looking for moose but didn’t have any luck. They tried to let me pass, but I was too far ahead of everyone else so I just stayed behind them. I had another idea in mind. I was hoping to befriend these ladies and parlay this into a ride to the AMC Highland Center where we wanted to spend the night. We needed to dry out and resupply. Bunny quickly caught up with us.

The four of us were having a pleasant walk and discussion.  They were telling us of things to do once we got into Maine. I was thinking my plan was going to work up until we ran into another college group from Bates College. I’m amazed at how many colleges in the NE have outdoor programs for orientation of new students. While we were talking to the Bates group, the old ladies took off. I thought we’d easily catch up with them again, but they must have sensed we wanted something from them and hid in the woods because we never saw them again.

Bear and Sassy caught up with us while we were talking to the students. We just had a couple of easy downhill miles to go to the notch. Unfortunately for Sassy, the easy downhills tend to be the hardest on her knees. We tend to look for excuses to break on the downhill sections (as well as the uphills and level sections—who are we kidding, we just look for excuses to take a break, any break) and we met a sobo coming up the hill that gave us the excuse we were looking for—Forager Mike. FM had flip-flopped so he gave us an idea of what to expect ahead of us.

We got to the road which leads to the Highland Center but there were no old ladies waiting to perform a good deed.  The Highland Center is supposedly “hiker friendly” but it’s ran by the AMC—that means, no shuttle service. From past experience, I knew not to even bother trying to stick my thumb out for a ride. Instead, I started doing the one sure fire thing that always gets us a ride: I got Bunny and Sassy to stick out their thumbs while I got out the nail clippers and started trimming my nails.  I don’t know if it soothes passing motorists seeing a man clip his nails or if it just assures them we aren’t serial murderers knowing that serial murderers do not have manicured nails (or maybe it’s having 2 women standing on the road), but we got a ride before I could finish my first hand. 

It was a father and son in two vehicles that were going to the Highland Center to park a car over night. They are planning on hiking the entire Presidential Traverse in one day (tomorrow) and wanted a car at their ending spot. Eric, the dad, picked us up while his son followed behind in the second vehicle, making sure we all behaved. 

The Highland Center is a brand spanking new hotel, restaurant, and convention center that caters to hikers. That is, they cater to rich hikers. The bunkhouse costs $80/person/night but does include a supper buffet and a breakfast buffet.  We got there in time to make use of our $6 beer and soup special that we get for staying in AMC campsites. This is as close as they get to being thru-hiker friendly. They have no resupply options on site other than $2 drink mixes and $3 protein bars (choice of four to choose from). Nor do they have a shuttle service to drive hikers to town (we don’t expect shuttles to be free, but not even a paid shuttle was available). The kicker was, this $10M+ Hiker Center doesn’t even have a coin laundry machine for hikers to use to clean up. The AMC clearly has a target audience for the Highland Center and, we, clearly, are not that audience. 

The AMC staff was very nice once we agreed to spend the $200/couple to spend the night. They even allowed us to dry out our gear in the basement over night. As far as laundry goes, they offered no suggestions. There really was only one choice…a nice long shower starting fully clothed and ending up under a blow dryer. Our room did have a box fan which we could keep on all night to help dry clothes out. As far as resupply goes, we’ll figure that out tomorrow morning. 

It was misty and cold outside when the four of us, after showering, got together to partake of the supper buffet.  When you include how much thru-hikers are capable of eating at a buffet and multiply that by 2 meals, we actually made out ok. Unlike in Spain, wine is not included in the price of the meal but we were in need of alcohol after the last few days. 

EFG