Category: 2018 Appalachian Trail

Bear started “quietly” moving around before 6. At 6:10 he started talking to Sassy to let her know wake up was imminent. At 6:15, I heard a veiled threat on Bear’s life—not quite sure if it was Sassy or Bunny but I was fearful for him. So fearful, that I lay perfectly still and pretended to still be asleep.  I did not want to be an accessory to murder, but not so concerned that I was going to risk bodily harm to stop it.

On the way out of camp, I forgot to ask Bunny if she had turned on the tracker. Slippy was well enough acquainted with our routine that he picked up my slack and chimed in “Bunny, did you start the tracker? You know, you only have ONE job to do in the morning.” Sadly, for the 180th time out of 199 times, Bunny had not started the tracker. 

The trail picked right back up like we left it—steeply downhill, only much worse.  We were actually climbing down a waterfall. The stream where we had gotten water last night was now the trail we were following.  I wonder if this is how the Appalachian Money Club does their trail maintenance and design—let nature choose the route and then not worry about putting any effort to improve it. This was an extremely slick and dangerous route. 

It was only 2.7 miles to Galehead Hut from the campsite.  Once we got to the bottom of the waterfall and the intersection of a side trail to a parking lot, the trail was much better. One thing I noticed is that the AMC was putting a lot of effort in closing down stealth sites by cutting down small trees and piling them in the sites with any other debris they could find.  I have to imagine that if they put half as much effort into actually maintaining the trail, things might be more enjoyable.  

Of the 2.7 miles to the hut, well over 1/2 mile falls into their “revenue protection zone” (also called forest protection zone). No one is allowed to camp in the protection zones so the Money Club is guaranteed to make money. They have a nice little monopoly with the National Forest Service. When we got to the hut, we went in to check if there might me some food; possibly some leftover breakfast or some things to buy. The staff was incredibly rude.  Bear was enquiring about getting some soup when the guy asked “do you want any soup or not?”  Bear replied he hadn’t made up his mind yet when the snotty mouth brat said “It doesn’t matter since I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to the guy behind you.” 

I decided against the $2 prison soup and bite size brownies for $1. Instead, I bought the only other thing available, a piece of jerky for $2. If the AMC is so friendly to thru-hikers, they might actually have some items of food for sale. I opted to do the one thing that always makes me feel good when visiting the AMC—I left them a $12 piece of me to deal with.

Walking away from the Galehead Hut it suddenly became clear to me.  Thru-hikers are regarded as the poor where the Smokies are the Republican Party and the AMC is the Democratic Party.  The Republicans are very up front about not wanting anything to do with the poor where as the Democrats act like they care about the poor until they actually have to do something that might help them.  The Smokies couldn’t have more open dislike for thru-hikers without allowing an open hunting season on them.  The AMC acts like they care about the thru-hikers in order to protect their monopoly with the National Forest Service.  They don’t want any bad vibes to interfere with their revenue stream. Like the Democrats, they only care about their big money patrons…the rich Bostonians who come pay ridiculous amounts of money to stay in the huts.

I’m going to give the National Forest Service the benefit of the doubt on this one. I think they really want to develop an infrastructure in the mountains similar to what France, Italy, and Switzerland have done—create a series of huts within a day’s walk of each other where hikers can stay overnight.  The biggest problem the NFS has is a lack of competition.  They have given the AMC a monopoly on the Whites so they have no need to make things affordable. The AMC exhibits everything that is wrong with capitalism without competition. They are no longer a trail maintenance club but a high end hotel operator.

After leaving the hut (hut score 0 for 2 with 1 bye), we climbed  1300’ up South Twin Mountain for a snack and a poor view of Mt. Washington. I will admit to anxiety about going over Washington.  When Bunny and I visited Marcia and Peter 3 years ago, we drove up Mt Washington one afternoon. We had 80 mile visibility without a cloud in sight at the top when we arrived, so went inside for to use the bathroom and grab a cup of coffee. When we came back out, we had almost zero visibility. The weather can change in an instant on Washington.  This is the highest point in the northeast with the wildest weather swings in the US.

Anxiety aside, we had a pleasant ridge walk to Zealand Mountain.  By the time we arrived at Zealand Mountain, the sky had cleared and we had great views of Washington. The trail was surprisingly nice down to Zealand Hut.  We thought we might have better luck here and tried to ask for work for stay, but all the slots were already taken. We asked to buy some soup thinking we would have to wait since they were already serving supper to the hut guests, but they were incredibly accommodating and friendly.  They told us we would just have to eat it on the porch. I bought a Snickers and two bowls of soup. Before we could finish, we could hear thunder coming over the mountain. The weather can and does change quickly in the Whites.

Here is where my memory disagrees with Bunny, Bear, and Sassy.  When I went back inside to turn in my bowl, I asked if we could sleep on the floor because of the approaching storm.  I was told we had to move on.  The sky was growing dark and the thunder was LOUD.  We knew of a stealth site just outside the revenue protection area, but I thought the hut might show a bit of concern and not make us hike on with an electrical storm approaching—no such compassion. I’d score this hut as 1/2 point good for food (excellent soup, but they didn’t follow the AMC posted thru-hiking pricing policy of $2 for first bowl and $1 for additional bowls) and 1/2 point bad for turning us away with an approaching storm. Of the four huts we have passed, the score is 0.5 good, 2.5 bad, and 1 unrated because we didn’t drop off of Franconia Ridge to visit Greenleaf Hut.  We still have 3 huts to pass, but I’m not getting good vibes from the AMC.

We found the stealth camp just outside of FPA, but it was already filled with another group of students from Brown University.  We asked if we could share the spot and they were fine with that.  As soon as we took our packs off, we felt rain.  Just a few drops. Bunny and I decided to get out our umbrellas, but Bear and Sassy rushed to set up their tent. Before we could open our umbrellas, the sky opened up.  I have never seen such a sudden rain. We decided to wait to put up our tent, but Bear and Sassy had gone beyond the point of return.

It took almost 20 minutes for the rain to let up enough for us to set up.  By then, Bear was inside of their tent bailing out water by the cup full.  It looked like they might have a miserable, wet night.  We tried to stay as dry as possible while cooking and getting ready for bed, but it continued to drizzle well into the night.

EFG

As usual, Sassy fired the first shot this morning.  When she returned from target practice, she stopped by the bear box and dropped our food bags outside of our tent. I had enough left over water from yesterday that I was able to make a gourmet breakfast allowing Bunny to sleep in whilst I did all the work. After breakfast, I had to get enough water for us to hike with today (as Bear can attest, a trail husband’s work is never done).  

We were camped next to Slippy and talked to him through breakfast.  The last thing I did before leaving camp was to go get and filter water at the spring. The placement of the spring was in a secluded corner of a couple of boulders. I checked over my left shoulder and saw that it was clear. Last night was kind of rough on me—I couldn’t let loose because of our close proximity to everyone (yes, I CAN be considerate I, just often choose not to be).  I let go of all the built up pressure from last night.  When I got my water and relief, I emerged from the spring to find someone standing around the corner smiling.  I can only hope that he was a sobo.

I headed back to the platform and threw my pack on.  As usual, Bunny wasn’t quite ready, so I tried to prod her a bit to pick up the pace. In her rush, as in her non-rush, as with her normal pace, she didn’t perform her one required morning task—turn on the tracker. Slippy was standing beside me when I gave her what has become our daily, morning speech: “Did you turn on the tracker?” “I forgot.” “One task, Bunny. You have one task. Turn on the tracker. I don’t have quite enough to do to get ready. Lean over and I’ll start the tracker.”

As promised when Bear and Sassy started hiking with us, we climbed to a fogged in Mt Liberty. We all agreed to skip the side trail to the summit since visibility was less than 20’. The same was true for Little Haystack, Lincoln, & Lafayette.  Occasionally, we will get to a summit with a view, but generally not a  highly anticipated summit or ridge.  Sassy claimed to have never had a view after a big climb when it was just her and Bear.  I’m trying to decide who is the bad luck magnet: Bear, Sassy, or Bunny since our record almost matches theirs.

Franconia Ridge and in particular, Mt. Lafayette, is Peter’s (our friend that lives in Portland, ME whom we met on the West Highland Way in Scotland) favorite spot in the Whites. Hoping for some views, we decided to stop for lunch behind wall to allow time for the peak to clear.  It kind of worked.  The clouds started breaking up after about an hour, but we didn’t have all day. We got a few glimpses below through the clouds, but we still had a few miles to make the first possible campsite (camping is not allowed on Franconia Ridge). 

On the way down the shoulder of Lafayette, we were treated to some spectacular views.  The majesty of the moment inspired Bear to try out his directorial abilities. As with most nerds (I include myself in this category), he has been heavily inspired by Peter Jackson.  He wanted a simple reenactment of the moment when Gimli,  Legolas, and Aragorn (no, I didn’t have to look up their names…nerd!) are running over a mountain pass looking for Merry and Pippin. They pause for just a moment to take in the beauty of the vista before continuing to run.  Bear used this example of what he wanted on, get this, two women.  I think I can safely say Bear and I married higher than our nerd status—neither one had any idea what he was talking about.

Sassy tried to go first and started breaking up laughing.  Bunny wasn’t any better.  Only I nailed it as Legolas.  Bear was growing frustrated after two takes and decided he wasn’t going to get the shot he wanted.  Peter Jackson, he is not.  Sadly, in the playbacks, I also discovered that as much as he isn’t Peter Jackson, I am more not Orlando Bloom.  There’s not going to be a residual revenue stream here, so we’ll just have to keep hiking.

Coming off of Lafayette Mountain, we experienced rising winds, but were quickly sheltered from them by Garfield Mountain. Climbing back to the peak of Garfield, we were buffeted by even higher winds.  Ever since my “dog in the wind experience” in the back of the pickup truck in VT, everyone has wanted to experience the feeling of pure freedom that I, and every other dog, feels by putting its face in the wind. On top of Garfield, we all got our wish (except for Bunny who was unwilling to drop her pack for the joy of the moment).

Garfield Ridge Campsite was on the far side of the mountain and a steep climb down to the side trail. After that, it was a long walk in past stream.  The caretaker finally decided on a platform for us to set our tents on.  Once the tents were up, we had to trek back to the water.  Bunny went with me to get water because I had wanted to stop on the way in, but she didn’t want to take the time. In Bunny math, 0.8 miles additional walking without packs is preferable to a 10 minute delay. (0.8 miles/10 minutes=4.8 miles/hour to break even—our best pace is 2.5 miles/hour…this was a bad decision proven mathematically but my wife still doesn’t believe me—have I mentioned nerd?). 

While we were finishing up our supper, Slippy showed up and set up on the platform next to us.  I’m getting the feeling that he is getting burned out and have my doubts about him finishing the AT as a thru-hiker.  We’ve seen a few questionable reappearances and disappearances over the last couple of weeks. Nonetheless, Slippy is always joking and friendly, but he talks of California with more than a hint of anticipation.  Not everyone is hygienically cut out to be a thru-hiker. I’m surprised at how well my ex-cheerleader wife has picked up, and uses several phrases like: “we just showered four days ago, let’s keep hiking” “I don’t have that many stains on my clothes and I’m tired, let’s skip the laundry” and “I’ll spork you in the throat if you ever repeat that” (maybe the hygiene change is getting to her mentality).

EFG

Since it was decided that we only had to hike less than 3 miles to hike today, we peacefully slept in. Not even a Bear was stirring before 8. I opened the door to find laundry waiting on the chair outside the door—it wasn’t our laundry, but clean clothes are a valuable commodity in the hiker community. I looked around and saw similar piles in front of other rooms. I searched until I found ours. I took mine and Bunny’s clothes out and then placed the rest in front of Bear and Sassy’s room. Bear came out and was amazed that they had successfully separated our laundry even down to our underwear. They provide a thorough screening at check in here!

We had breakfast on the veranda, or maybe it was a picnic table outside of our room. We made plans for the day which included a town lunch and another shopping trip. Bear had checked with Mike last night about staying late and getting rides around town. While Mike wouldn’t give us a ride, he would loan us 4 bicycles so we could get around on our own.

With borrowed bikes, we peddled into town for lunch at Black Mountain Burger Co. After lunch, we visited the outfitter and picked up an emergency meal and therm-a-rest seats so we could be more like Bear and Sassy (we are slowly morphing our gear to match each other. By the end of the AT, we should be able to grab any of our packs at random and not be able to tell the difference). We were obligated to make one final stop as agreed to in our ATC trail permit—the local ice cream shop. I reluctantly agreed. I say reluctantly because we had been to this same shop a few days ago when we were staying at Hikers Welcome; I knew they didn’t have banana splits. They didn’t even have Ben and Jerry’s. What kind of barbaric town is Lincoln? 

We got back to the motel about 1:30 after having used a completely different set of muscles to peddle bikes than we have been using to hike for the last 6 1/2 months. Mike dropped us off at the same parking lot he had picked us up at yesterday. We were trying to hike by 2:15 but our legs and lower bodies were so confused by the 10 mile bike ride that we looked like cowboys walking after a long ride—not pretty, not graceful, and definitely not fast. 

To our relief, the hike started out easy, but it would quickly grow steep. We stopped to camel up at a stream right before the steep climb started. After the stream, Bear and Sassy quickly ditched us. Maybe not quickly, but they were hobbling much faster than Bunny and I could manage. Bear has done some mini triathlons in the past (or at least trained for them until he, inevitably, injured himself), so he was aware of the transition from cycling to running. We’re not running, but the effect is the same. 

With Bear and Sassy out of sight, we were able to unashamedly take our time. Until we encounter something worse, we will continue to use the climb up Kinsman as the worst climb on the AT. This climb was relentless, but it was no Kinsman. Not one time did we have to stow our walking sticks to grab rocks and pull ourselves up. Of the 2.6 miles, 2.2 miles were a grind ever upwards. 

We got to the caretaker’s side trail where I dropped my pack.  I went back to his tent, but he wasn’t there. We continued on to the campsite where Bear and Sassy already had a platform for us and were talking to the caretaker. It was only 5:30 when we checked in.  We bought AMC camping passes (maybe this is why the schmucks at Lonesome Lake Hut treated us like dirt, because we didn’t have the orange good guy thru-hiker passes.  It was all just a misunderstanding. Once they know we are paying customers they won’t treat us like whale shit).  

The caretaker clearly and enthusiastically loved his job. One of his responsibilities is taking care of the privy and it’s contents. This involves spreading it out, drying it, and mixing it into the forest layers—a true labor of love. So much of his job revolves around the privy that he got a tattoo of the privy on his arm…no shit, just the door and the half moon breathing hole. He’s going to have a fun time explaining that one to a future girlfriend. 

Bear and I had purchased cup hooks when we were at Hikers Welcome Hostel. We knew that we would eventually have to set up tents on a platform in the Whites. This was our first time so it took us a bit longer than usual. Our Z-Packs tent is not freestanding while Bear and Sassy’s piece of crap Big Agnes tent is semi-freestanding.  BA might make decent tents, I can’t say for certain since I have never purchased or will ever purchase one. I can say that their sleep systems do not live up to their ratings and their customer service managers tend to lie. Also, I have a long memory of people and companies that screw me and lie to me. Enough said for this go-round of my rant. 

We cooked beside platform and watched a mouse get all of our crumbs. I may even have dropped a few extra just to watch him waddle out from under the platform. He could have easily passed for a dwarf rat. While we were cleaning up, Slippy showed up and ended up on the platform next to us. He didn’t see us but we heard him talking to the guy he was sharing the platform with. He said he had met some people that have been hiking since February. He has only been out 4 months and is getting tired of it, he couldn’t imagine being out 6 1/2 months and still having more than a month to go. 

I ran the food bags up to the bear box. When I got back, Bear had checked the forecast and the chance of rain had risen from 0% to 55% by 2a. We were going to get rained on for sure tonight. I’ve learned that whatever percentage of rain equates to 100% for x percentage of time. For us tonight, that means we will have about 3 hours of rain between 2 and 8 in the morning. I’ve about go5 this weather thing figured out. 

EFG

With all the people camping here last night, the longest part of the morning was waiting in line for the privy. There comes a point where you give up waiting for the line to go away and just give in to joining the shit queue. It’s an odd occurrence standing around talking to young college students all waiting to drop a load. When it’s finally your turn, the pressure to perform fast is on. I try to be conscientious ever since Stickers told me 7 minutes was the acceptable limit. I’m a 30 minute man, myself, but I’m not carrying a novel to save weight. 

Bunny and I were packed and ready to go. Bear and Sassy needed to filter water, but they were ready before the college students were packed up. We started off across the river where Pika lost her phone when she got thrown across the river in flood stage. As we were crossing, Mule appeared and started yelling to us across the stream. The college students came out of camp and started crossing with us. We were pretty sure they were going the wrong direction and said so. After about half of them were across, they had a conference and decided we were right. We were obviously dealing with directionally challenged ivy leaguers…hopefully they can tell left from right when the time matters. 

We are in the long anticipated Whites. Today is the first test we have had since Moosilauke. We have a 2000’ climb that doesn’t look bad on Guthook. It started out pleasant enough with a climb next to a mountain brook. After the first 1000’, we came to a mountain bog and pond—Harrington Pond. This would be an ideal place for a moose sighting, but, I’m afraid we aren’t going to see a moose in NH. We’ve been told that mild winters in the northeast have lead to an overwhelming number of ticks that have discovered moose as an ideal host. Their population has been decimated by ticks. Last winter was pretty tough which killed the ticks for us this year, but the moose population will take years to recover. 

The second half of the climb to the top of Kinsman was (cover the eyes of any young ones or anyone of prudish nature—yes, Bunny, I mean you when I say prudish—reading along) a real bitch. This was a hand over hand climb which we had been told was tough, but were still unprepared for. It is well over 21% grade. What surprised me most was that there weren’t any “run-away-hiker ramps.”  This was the toughest mile we have had to date. It was challenging but doable. We have a hut on the other side as a reward for succeeding. 

From the top of Kinsman, we think we can see Mount Washington more clearly today. Upon closer inspection, we realize it’s on the wrong side of Franconia Ridge and is really just Canon Mountain. Canon Mountain has a small weather observatory and a ski lift on it. Franconia Ridge is a wall directly in front of us that looks very intimidating. It reminds me of the Smokies when we looked back on them. This is clearly a weather changer for the area. Low storm systems coming in this direction will be held up by this wall of 4000’ peaks. 

I’ve been on the trail long enough that I am starting to develop some animalistic abilities. For example, I am developing a rudimentary sonar system similar to bats. It is amazingly effective. If I want to know where Bunny is, but I don’t want to spend the effort to turn around and look, I just fart loudly. Bunny will immediately respond “I’m right behind you.”  It may not be as sophisticated as bats. There might be some room for improvement, but it works. 

Now that the climbing up was done, we just had to get down the other side. It was steep going down, but nothing like going up. In some places, steps had been attached to steep sections, just not enough to actually be helpful. There always seemed to be a step or two missing. Often, we could look to the side of the trail and see what used to be a step lying in the thickets. Maintenance was lacking on this section. We decided it was most prudent to but slide down some of the worse sections. I tried to race Sassy down in one such section, but she decided to cheat and run instead. 

A couple of female day hikers heard a party ahead of them. They decided to catch up with the group singing and having a good time. It was no group having a good time, it was just us trying to sing. Bear, Sassy, and Bunny all have less than angelic singing voices so I intentionally sing loud and off-key so they don’t feel self conscious. The resulting cacophony might be off putting to other hikers and wildlife which could explain our lack of nature sightings.  

The first AMC Hut was a total disappointment. I ordered four bowls of soup. The snotty little kid running the kitchen said he only had enough lentil soup for one and the rest would have to be potato. He then gave us two bowls of lentil soup (he had added enough hot water to make the single bowl stretch to two) and two bowls of white colored water he said was potato. There was also burnt bread for sale for $1/slice (seriously burnt—black crust) and colored water which had a hint of cranberry for $1/glass. Bunny and I had been to this hut 3 years ago with Peter and Marcia and had been talking it up to Bear and Sassy. We tried making apologies for the rudeness of the staff and the crappy food. Things only got worse when some “civilians” walked in and the snotty kid became friendly.  

Mule caught up with us as we were leaving. We talked to him a bit about his experience with the Twelve Tribes. We had heard he was out at the farm digging potatoes for a couple of days. He didn’t seem like Twelve Tribes material to us, but lone hikers willing to work are their target recruits. They did try to get him to join, but he wasn’t willing to go before a committee to ask for new shoes if he needed a pair. 

When we came to Lonesome Lake Hut with Peter and Marcia, I remember walking down an easy trail from hut to the parking lot that was smooth and had switchbacks. The AT was not that trail. I had also talked up that trail to keep us going up and over Kinsman Mountain. We were now walking down a boulder field with a stream in it. It was slick and terrible walking—not at all as I remembered. I know nice trails exist in NH but the AT IS NOT one of them so far. There was about 100 yards of nice AT track right next to the hut, but as soon as we left the hut, it turned back to crap. It’s obvious that maintenance is not a priority to the AMC if their targeted customers don’t use it. 

We took a side trail to the Liberty Springs parking lot where Mike “Not Yet” picked us up. Mike and his wife, “Better Half,” just bought the Mount Liberty Motel this year. They thru-hiked a couple of years ago and have been looking for a location to open a hotel/hostel along the trail. Mike says this is the best thing they have done. We forewent showers and Mike took us to the Common Man Restaurant for supper with the intention that we would walk to the grocery store afterwards. The restaurant was great, but slow.  We ended up taking much longer than anticipated so Mike picked us up at the restaurant then took shopping. 

When we got back, one of us needed to take our dirty clothes up to the office so they could get washed. Everything Bunny and I had was dirty. I wrapped a towel around my naked body, but Bear was too afraid I might scare other guests if I walked to the office. Once again, Bear “did” the laundry for us. 

EFG

We wanted to get up at 6:30 so we could go to the roadside restaurant and grab some breakfast before catching the 8:30 shuttle. Some nice person downstairs set their alarm for 6 and made sure to turn it loud enough to wake the whole building up. Since they had done the service of waking everyone up, they felt no need to talk or pack up quietly. They left the building at 6:29 and Bunny promptly got me up at 6:30. 

Bear and Sassy had a lot to pack up since they had their car here. Over the course of the last few days, a lot of things had migrated inside from the back of the car. Bunny and I didn’t feel rushed getting ready. We packed, paid the bill, and performed porcelain duties still having a little time before Bear and Sassy were ready to go get breakfast. We got our food to go because we were sharing the shuttle with one other hiker—Slippy. 

At 8:30, we realized we had forgotten to get any tortillas.  On a whim, Bunny decided to check the hiker box, “just in case.”  Slippy had his stuff strewn all over the tables. When he heard that Bunny needed tortillas, he gave her a an extra bag he had. He said he didn’t want any money, but he would like an extra 10 minutes of time to get ready. Fine by us. October 15 is still 52 days away and were thinking we’ll be done in 35-42 days from now. 

Pulling into the parking lot, we ran into more magic. Hollow Leg had started hiking the AT this year and made it to Harpers Ferry before he ran out of money. He decided to come up to New Hampshire to find work. He got a job right away painting houses. Today, he’d brought hot dogs, snacks, and sodas to give to hikers.  As soon as he runs out of food, he plans to get in a day hike. 

My stomach was not feeling well at all. It’s a combination of eating too much and stress. I feel bad because I feel responsible for Bag of Tricks and Uncle Walt leaving the hostel early. Bag of Tricks and I made up but he said he felt a need to go home. The confrontation and overeating of the last few days caused me to have diarrhea. In reality, I should probably blame my parents since everyone is well aware that diarrhea is hereditary—it runs in your jeans. 

My intestinal problems delayed us from starting to hike until after 10 when we had originally hoped to start by 8. Cinching the waist belt across my stomach felt really comforting to me. I think two days without hiking was too many. I needed to get active and sweat. As always, the trail provides. We started with a nice steep 1000’ climb.  After the initial climb, we fell into a series of short climbs and dips with a little bit of mud.

We met two sobo section hikers who were complaining a bit about the mud. We found it a little entertaining because we felt the little bit of mud we were coming across to be insignificant.  I thought they were going to love Vermont. We climbed of Wolf Mountain which was another 1000’ climb. Several people had told us Wolf Mountain was difficult. We didn’t have any problems or encounter much mud on the way up. 

It turns out that we climbed Wolf Mountain and descended Wolf Shit Mountain. It wasn’t so much of a trail that we were on, but more of a slightly wide animal tract. We did encounter several piles of moose poop and saw lots of moose tracks (not the good ice cream kind), but other than that, it was a miserable, slow slog down the mountain. Tedious, monotonous, pain in the ass, slow as hell, and whore’s shit were all used to describe the trail (in hind sight, it might have been horse shit; I sometimes have trouble hearing). 

We got a good view of Franconia Ridge and I started feeling a bit intimidated. It looks like a giant wall in front of us that we have to climb over to get to Mount Washington (which we could see the weather station on). After seeing this and checking the weather report, we decided to stay at Eliza Doolittle tonight, have lunch at Lost Pond Hut tomorrow, and get into Lincoln, NH tomorrow night to get out of the rain. 

Our original goal of making it to Kinsman Pond Shelter had been forgotten the minute we started descending. With our late start and this crappy trail, an 11+ mile day was just not possible. Along the way, we found a croc (which Bear picked up and carried) and a hiking pole which I carried. When we got to the shelter, we asked around to see if anyone had dropped either. It turns out that Tiger was having a very bad day—they were both his. 

There must have been 20+ people at the shelter and camping area. I wanted to stay in the shelter with Tiger but Sassy and Bunny were having none of that. We set up tents like the women wanted (Bunny claims I always get my way, yet here I am lying on the ground typing away). It’s always nice to be in a camp with a bear box and a privy. I usually put stuff in both. 

We set up camp, filtered water (which Bunny got and filtered), made dinner, and cleaned up all before 7. The days are already getting noticeably shorter since it was completely dark before 8:30. When we started hiking in February, dark was before 5:30. We need to get hiking before the days get that short again. I’m already having trouble getting everything done before hiker midnight. 

EFG 

I’m kind of in a down mood today. I’ve always felt like an outsider wherever I go and it’s turning out to be the same here on the trail. I had a run in with a “trail legend” yesterday and it’s really got me questioning myself. 

I’ve always been working under the assumption that I’m basically a good guy. I know I have flaws: I’m short tempered, I can’t take criticism, I don’t tolerate stupidity well, I don’t have a tremendous amount of patience—I know I’m nowhere near perfect. What if my basic working assumption is wrong? What if I’m really one of the bad guys?  One of the things I was hoping to accomplish by all the hiking is to become a better person and correct some of my faults. It’s apparently not working. I’ve had two instances in the last month where I’ve lost my temper in a big way. 

Bunny has told me on multiple occasions that the reason people are nice to me here is because they don’t know me.  I know me and don’t really like me so she could be right. Most people only have to deal with me for short periods of time. Try living with me 24/7! Not even Bunny does that and people think she should get some kind of award. I think I deserve a large cash prize. That would be in everyone’s best interest so I’d have the money to stay hiking for the rest of my life and not end up on people’s couches. 

Bunny and I walked back down the road to the trailhead. Bear and Sassy drove to the other side of Moosilauke and parked their car. They were going to slack pack south while Bunny and I hiked north. We had a key for their car and would bring it back to the hostel when we got done. It’s a fine point here, but we didn’t quite slack pack, we packed lightly for the day. We still carried much more than just the day’s food and water, but not all of our food and stove. I don’t intend to slack pack unless I’m forced to because of an injury. 

My first observation about the Whites is that NH doesn’t waste money on white paint for blazes. Bunny and I lost the trail at the first road crossing and ended up in an old cemetery. I had to beg Bunny to let me see the phone so we could use Guthook to get back on trail. Bunny thinks it’s better to spend an hour walking in the wrong direction looking for the trail than it is to take the 10s to pull her phone out of her bag. 

We did meet a couple of solo women who were coming down. They both lived nearby and regularly climbed up and down. We talked to one that said this trail was great, but the Beaver Brook Trail was the tough one, especially going down. It just so happens that the AT goes down the Beaver Brook Trail. The DOC maintains the trail going up to the top, so it was nice. I’m wondering where the AMC’s territory begins. 

There is a south summit which is a little off the trail, but it’s not above treeline. From the south summit to the main summit, we have a great ridge walk above treeline. We can see lots of people milling around above. We made the summit at 4802’ expecting to run into Bear and Sassy.  We waited around for a bit then headed down the north side to get away from the crowd. We met them about 1/4 mile past the summit and decided to eat lunch together there. As we were packing up after lunch, Bear warns me quietly that there are a few scary places waiting for us. 

We began our descent down the north side of Moosilauke and had not bad, but great, views. The trail was not bad at all until we made it to Beaver Brook Shelter. Right across from the shelter trail was the 1800 mile mark. We have less than 400 miles to go with only the Whites, Southern Maine, the Bigelows, the Hundred Mile Wilderness, and Katahdin to go—bowl of cobbler. 

After Beaver Brook Shelter, the trail was steep and next to a cascades for the next 1.5 miles. There were often huge wet slabs steeply slanted down. In a few places, the trail had steps added to the slabs or steps carved into the slabs, but, more often then not, it was just a wet slide down the mountain.  It’s easy to understand why cowardly nobos (no comment on Bear and Sassy, people have been trying to scare us with this mountain for hundreds of miles) choose to switch to sobo and slack pack this mountain. Bunny and I had already gotten a “heads up” from Chad the Dad who told us to just go slow and we’d be fine. 

At the bottom of the climb, there was a warning sign which basically told us that only idiots would attempt this climb and turn back before we die a premature, bloody death. We are just the right kind of idiots to tackle such a trail. We laughed off our brush with death and got in Bear and Sassy’s car. It was a Subaru Outback which is the car Bunny wants. We had threatened to disappear with the car. I noticed, Bear had reset the tripometer to make sure we didn’t go for a joyride. In the end, we just drove back to hostel. 

We gave Bear back his key (and hoped he couldn’t find the dings). After our showers, the four of us finally made it to Greenhouse Restaurant for pizza like we had been trying for for 3 days. It was crowded and slow. Bear had to go into the kitchen to find our food. The manager intercepted him, but we did get our food right away. We were out a lot later than we wanted to be since we had a shuttle to catch in the morning.

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We had decided a ways back that we were going to take a double zero here to make sure we were fully recovered and in the best shape possible to tackle the Whites. This is our “chill and recover” spot. It was also an opportunity for Bear and Sassy to check out the hostel and see if they wanted to be caretakers next year. I was also owed a good movie since the last one I went to was “Mamma Mia, Here We Go Again.”

There was a good crowd at the hostel, maybe 20 people including Tiger and Compass, and some guys that parked their campers out back and were doing some work for stay. We had the upstairs of the bunkhouse to ourselves more or less. One of the guys in a trailer was Bag of Tricks. He’s an older guy that’s been around AT circles for years and is kind of a legend. He knows the trail well and has lots of stories and advice for hikers passing through. He does tend to dominate conversations and can be a little offensive at times. He gave Sassy and Bear crap about being section hikers. We would try to avoid him after a while because we like to talk, too. 

Bear and Sassy did a morning inventory of everything they had in their car since it had been a month since they had seen it. Bunny and I got our winter clothes that Peter and Marcia had mailed to us. We also did an inventory of food. Once we had everything figured out, we went to Farm Way in Vermont to get some of the stuff we needed and eat a couple of meals. We didn’t leave enough time for us to get a movie in today, so I satisfied myself by microwaving some popcorn and watching “The Return of the King” with the other hikers. 

On our second zero day, I whined enough about not getting to see a movie that everyone agreed to go to Lincoln, NH for lunch, visit an outfitter, go to a movie, and do grocery shopping. We saw “Mission Impossible” in honor of us attempting to hike through the Whites. All I can say for the movie is that there is one Scientologist that can really run. We were the only 4 people in the theatre so Bunny didn’t complain about me making too much noise eating my popcorn and chewing my ice. 

On the way back to the hostel we did what Bunny wanted since I had gotten to eat movie popcorn. We saw a moose in the road.  When we stopped to try to get its picture, we actually saw that it was a cow with a young calve—two moose for the price of one. The only problem was that it was too dark to get a picture so Bunny’s moose sighting isn’t officially documented. It doesn’t count. 

We’ve been looking for Leuko Tape wherever we go. We tried to order some from Amazon, but they wouldn’t deliver to this hostel (too remote?). We found a small roll in the hiker box. Actually, another hiker had it and was putting it back. Bunny grabbed it. Bag of Tricks was standing there and said he’d like to try some since he has heard so much about it. He said he’d get some from Bunny. 

On our third morning, Bag kept bugging Bunny for the tape. I went up and got the roll of tape for him to have some and told him we were going to take it with us since we had been looking for it for a while (it was a partial roll). He started yelling at me that it was his tape and my wife had taken it from him. There were a few expletives involved. I don’t take well to being sworn at or yelled at and don’t deal well with either. I exploded. I guess this will be known as “the NH Leuko tape explosion.” All filters are gone when I’m pissed (not that there are many to begin with). It was an ugly scene with a lot of tension.

In the end, I went back and apologized to Bog of Tricks and he to me. I gave him what was left of the tape after the four of us had pulled some off for our personal use. We even hugged and I listened to some of his stories about Earl Schafer. But it doesn’t end there. One thing he told me was that he had been away from home too long. When we got back in the evening, all of the trailers out back were gone. 

Now I felt like shit. One of the things I’m hoping to accomplish through hiking this trail is to control my temper better. I thought I was making progress but blew it big time here. I also want to become more flexible with changes to plans, dealing with schedules, letting details go, not getting in the last word, not correcting people when they have facts/details wrong, and learning how to shut my mind off. I’ve sometimes got a brutal inner voice and I’m going to get that bastard one way or another. Looks like I’ve still got a lot of hiking ahead because my progress is slow. 

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We broke camp at a pretty good pace today. We were motivated to get going knowing that we had showers and beds waiting at the end of the day. Before we even got to the road, we found magic. Some kind person had made fresh chocolate chip cookies and left them out for thru-hikers. Since Sassy chooses to lead a gluten free life, we discovered how generous she can be. She gave each of us her cookie. This way, we all ended up with two cookies instead of one.

Another strange coincidence happened when we started our road walk. We met a man getting out of his car. I noticed he had Illinois plates. It turns out that he is from Springfield which is the city next to where I’m originally from. He had just retired and wanted to finish up section hiking the AT. Last year he had fallen and cut his leg pretty bad on Smarts Mountain. This year, his wife is supporting him while he finishes up the trail. 

Turning onto the trail, we encountered a herd daddy long leg spiders. I imagined that I was a giant chasing a bunch of Lilliputians. As they turned off the trail to hide under plants, I would lift the plants, tilt my head back to laugh as I raised my foot above them, and stomp my foot down on the trail leaving them unharmed. I’m a benevolent giant which is why I should be elected as the next dictator of the USA. I promise not to tweet nasty things about pissants that slander me. 

Our primary target destination was Ore Hill Campsite just a couple miles uphill from where we camped. There used to be a shelter here, but it got burned down. All that’s left is a privy (stay on target). We dropped our packs at the side trail and took turns visiting the facilities. Since this used to be a shelter, there was still a log book that was kept in the privy. And, this one was actually shaped like a throne. The irony of sitting on my throne reading a log book while dropping a log, was not lost on me. 

We had two milestones today. The first was that we officially entered the White Mountains when we climbed Mt Mist. This climb was less challenging than our previous climbs up Smarts and Cube so we were feeling pretty confident. Met Mist wasn’t even 2000’ tall so it’s not a good indicator of the Whites. Our first real test will be climbing Mt Moosilauke in a couple of days. Moosilauke is almost 5000’ tall. 

On the way down from Mt Mist to the road, we encountered our second, more important milestone of the day. We passed the 400 miles to go mark. True, we still have 4 of the most difficult parts of the trail left to conquer: the Whites, Southern Maine, the Bigelows, and Katahdin. Nonetheless, we are still out here hiking the trail when so many others have had to stop. 

Hikers Welcome Hostel has been our target since we began hiking with Sassy and Bear. They have their car here which means we have trail freedom for a few days. They are thinking about being caretakers here next year but haven’t seen the place yet. We got our bunks and took showers before we jumped in the car to head to Greenhouse Restaurant for a meal.  When we drove up, it was closed. The unanimous decision (since my vote doesn’t count) was to just go to the roadside stand and get a burger so we could get to bed early. After burgers, we went to Moose Scoops Ice Cream Stand where I had a banana split. I’ve found that these provide the best value at ice cream shops. If I’m forced to eat ice cream, I at least want a deal. 

In the center of town is a Redstone Missile. Moose Scoops had a write up about the missile and how it got there. When the program was discontinued, people could but surplus missiles. A local man bought one and drove it all the way across the country to deliver it to his hometown. When people found out what he was up to, they decided to greet him with a band. The townspeople saw the truck coming down the highway and started the celebration only to discover it was the wrong truck. The truck held a skeptic tank. For a moment in time, this skeptic tank driver was the most celebrated “Shitman” on the planet. And everyone wonders why I talk about privies so much—they celebrate sceptic tanks here in New Hampshire. My kind of crowd. 

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Bunny accuses me of not having bladder control because I pee so much. I accuse her of not having bowel control because she can’t hold it in until we get to a privy. I learned bowel control from going to Boy Scout camp that had smelly latrines. I would hold it in until I got home on Saturday afternoon (from the previous Sunday). Yes, I was sluggish moving around (and that might be why I have such a crappy outlook having filled myself up to eye level). When Bunny has to go, she goes. A bit of a hippy as Sheldon Cooper might say. This morning was no exception for Bunny. She trudged deep into the woods for a bit of privacy. I walked back down the trail find her only a few feet to the side of the trail—with a narrow ridge there isn’t really a deep woods location. 

After we packed up, we started our climb up to Smarts Mountain. We could see the fire tower on top of the mountain from where we camped last night.  It was only 2 miles and another 1000’ up from where we were, but most of the climb was in the last half mile which meant for some steep trail. Dartmouth Outing Club maintains this trail and they are creative in making the trail accessible. Apparently, switchbacks are not an acceptable solution in VT, NH, or ME. DOC has installed rails, rebar, rough wooden ladders. They mix things up so each mountain has its own special feel.

Bear and I hold off on hole digging in the morning and Sassy is a double barrel shooter, so we all took turns at the privy before proceeding up the fire tower. Bunny used to question whether climbing up a tower is worth it for the views. Finally, she has climbed enough to know that 80 feet does make a difference. We were able to see Mt Moosilauke ahead of us and covered in clouds. This will be the first test of the Whites for us in a few days. 

When we came down the tower, we were replaced by a father and son team at the top. This was his son’s first backpacking trip (and possibly last because it was a very difficult outing for an eight year old). At the bottom of the tower, we met another nobo, Achilles. We told him it was a great view on such a beautiful day but he said he didn’t have the time to climb the 80 feet up. We tried once more telling him he would have a great view of Moosilauke. He just said he’d see it in a few days. I just don’t understand why people hike the AT and don’t take the time to enjoy it. I know, “hike your own hike,” but it doesn’t hurt to try and see things you may never see again. If you don’t actually look at anything along the trail, why not just run on a track to get the miles?

It was a muddy trail coming down Smarts but NH is working on it.  There are numerous new wood planks across mud pits. There are also lots of new materials laying along the trail to be put in place. I’m not bothered by the mud reminiscent of VT because I see evidence that the trail is being worked on. We even ran across a trail crew with blow torch and a roll of toilet paper. At least I’d like to think it was a trail crew rather than a heavily impacted hiker on the way to a privy. 

At the bottom of Smarts Mountain, we stopped for a lunch break above a beautiful, rocky river.  We had traversed one mud puddle that was so deep I couldn’t touch the bottom with my pole. Unfortunately for one Japanese Hiker, she found out first hand how deep the puddle was. She climbed down to the river below to rinse the mud off of her boots, legs, and shorts before she headed up our next climb—Mt Cube.

My Cube proved to be a long climb with some tough sections, but well worth the effort. We were rewarded with great views of the fire tower we had just climbed this morning. We did pass day hiker on the way down that was up for a week of choral camp located in a girls camp at the base of the mountain. He had been walking for an hour and didn’t know how far it was to the top of the mountain. When we showed him on Guthook how far it was, he gave up and turned around. 

Bunny and Sassy were a bit behind Bear and I coming down. One sobo passed us but didn’t really talk to us. He did stop and talk to them and told them how miserable the trail was from here all the way to Katahdin. He had absolutely nothing good to say about any of it: tough trail, terrible bugs, endless swamps, etc.  in the end, we figured he was from one of the native Americans tribes that doesn’t want people climbing Katahdin. 

We found some great stealth sites near the road, but couldn’t find a good water source. There was a stream running out of a lake, but it smelled terrible and has lots of bugs in it. Bear and I decided to head into the girls camp to see if we could get some water from them. We walked all the way in (about 1/2 mile) without meeting anyone.  We found a portable water source and filled up. By the time we returned, Bunny and Sassy had set up the tents and had the camp ready. All I had to do was hang a bear bag and cook. I think I’ll start taking my time getting water from now on.

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Bear (raarr) is an early riser on a bad day. Last night, he slept great and woke up totally invigorated. A happy Bear means lots of singing and Bear is infectious.  A singing Bear leads to a singing Bunny which is good for no one. Of all my favorite Bear wrong lyrics, His rendition of Jimi Hendrix gets me—“Excuse me while I kiss this guy”. 

We climbed to Moose Mountain South then stopped for open air privy and snack at Moose Mountain Shelter. I took the AT to second entrance so no one else would have to back track. I have religiously made sure to walk the entire trail returning the same way I enter a shelter so that I don’t miss any white blazes. Bear used to “tag up” when they were doing sections, but after magic one time, they missed a short section of trail. Rather than back track, he has decided to become less anal. Anal is my strong suit. Now, more than ever, I can’t skip white blazes. I do this to protect Bear’s reputation. How would it look if my attention to detail took a nose dive after I started hiking with a former NASA engineer/program manager?

It was an easy drop to Goose Pond Road where we stopped for lunch at a stream before road.  Then a 1200’ climb to Holt’s Ledge followed. We met woman in training for TMB in September. We talked for a while about what she can expect along the trail. Bunny and I are looking forward to doing this trail again in a few years once Heike and Axel finish the GR10. 

We met a couple of self proclaimed slobos (slow moving sobos) at Trapper John Shelter.  They may or may not have been what they claimed, but they gave me the feel of a couple living on the trail. It’s not uncommon to meet people who just absolutely love the trail lifestyle. The hostels are practically ran by trail hangers-on who don’t want to rejoin the matrix. 

We continued down to Grafton Turnpike hoping to catch a ride to where Lyme’s Disease started—Lyme, NH. Like all good plagues, I’m sure Lyme Disease has its start with the usual chain of events: a 12 pack, a drunk redneck, and a sexy monkey. I’m not sure where the monkey came from.  In this case, it could have just been an immature moose of indeterminate sex. Where there are rednecks, there are ways. 

I was completely out of fuel and needed food. Bunny wanted to push on but I was past the point of continuing. I sat on the road and unpacked our food bag. I just started shoving food in my mouth trying to recover. I have found that if I eat before I crash I can keep going, but if I wait until after the crash, I’m usually toast for the rest of the day. I just can’t convince Bunny that when I say I need to eat (or pee) I mean NOW. 

Bear suggested we road walk to the next parking lot and skip the actual trail. The trail was overgrown, but I knew in everyone’s heart that they were counting on me to keep them honest so they’ll be able to sleep with a clear conscious.  The highlight of this section was a flat rock where we could have sat if we were tired. If it hadn’t been for me, we would have missed this amazing sight. Truth of the matter, I would have skipped this section had I known there was nothing to see (and if they had tied me up, drugged me, and carried me). 

It was only 1.8 miles to Lambert Ridge with a 1300’ climb.  It was clear that there wasn’t any water on top of the ridge, so we had to carry an extra 7 liters of water (enough water for supper and breakfast). We found a stealth site near top that was just big enough for our tents to fit. We set up camp, cooked, and hung our food bags just as the sun was going down. We were considering eating on the rocks above our camp, but it was already getting windy and cold.  Our tent is set up so that if I get out the front, I will hit my head on a tree. If I get out the back, I will fall down the mountain. Bunny knows I don’t have any life insurance and that I’ll have to get up at least 4 times when it’s cold—I get to head butt a tree tonight. 

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