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8/12/01, day 151. 16m. Dad's house Today was wonderful, as the heat finally broke and the day had a 75 degree rainy feel to it - Norway and I just loved it to bits. So after eggs and pancakes we dropped off Leslie somewheres and Norway and I got dropped off somewheres and we did some hikin' over some mountains and I ate some food and walked and, uh, I got tired. I was expecting to meet Leslie and my dad, but Smiles and Fiddlehead were also quite pleasantly there. So it was another night with hot food and good company and all that jazz. 8/13/01, day 152. 19.3m. Dad's house Climbed an actual mountain today, one that I've been on before, which made me feel once again like I walked home. This slacking is great, but just like my section in VA I feel like I'm not getting anywhere, 'cuz I'm sleeping in the same place every night. Whatevah. One more slack tomorrow... 8/14/01, day 153. ~16m. Dad's house Today was the last of the slack days. Like yesterday, I was pretty much alone all day, making it pretty tedious, but partly spiritual/introspective. I love the whites; I always have. There's a certain smell, a stillness, a sense of being here that's hard to put into words. It's also much harder than I remember, and even slacking I need to reduce my rate and daily mileage significantly. I've been a bit sore the past coupla days, which I really haven't been at all wince the beginning (with the exception of water skiing). So anyway it was dark when I got down to Franconia notch, or at least getting dark, and I was quite pissed to find that rt. 3 was a 0.7m walk off the Trail, so I walked the walk and found almost zero traffic so I walked up what turned out to be the off ramp from I-93 (genius at work!) and one of the first cars I came across was a NH statie, which at first didn't make me feel so good, but the dude pulled over and offered me a ride! He was a prick, of course, and insisted on checking me for weapons, but he drove me all the way here. He even came up to watch me use my key to make sure I wasn't some ruffian. Anyway, a ride in the back of a cop car is a good ride. 8/15/01, day 153. ~10m. Camping at Garfield Pond Woke up and milled about the house for a spell, then a hitch to North Woodstock, where I ran into and ate breakfast with Happy an Jerimiah Johnson, then some sustained failed hitching, then a shuttle with Happy. It was quite difficult climbing up to the Franconia ridge with a pack after four days of slacking, but even though the going was tough today I was glad to be backpacking again; my pack is my friend. And, as the WOD pointed out the other day, you do feel somewhat sissy when you summit a mountain without a pack, like sure is was hard, but it was harder for everybody else. Anyway, I'd been on this ridge years before, but had totally forgotten what a truly awesome sight it is. Until just the other day, the AT never got above treeline. Here, you have miles of panoramic views, seeing terrain past and to come. So Happy and I chilled on each o the day's peaks (little Haystack, Lincoln, and Lafayette) and walked down to this here pond, where I dined on Mystery Lipton (thanks, WOD!) 8/16/01, day 154. ~12m. Zeland Falls Hut Okay, so it was a beautiful hike walking ridges in the White, noting where I is and where I was and where I gonna be. Ran into noggin and he friend and hiked with them for a spell, which was pleasant enough, then an arrival at Zeland Falls Hut, where I got a work for stay. Stay I did, but I hardly worked, merely setting and clearing the table. I also got myself a feast, as the swell croo here shoved the dinner leftovers at me. Everybody showed up, about 7 hikers, and were sadly turned away, but Yolo and Wild Honey paid $10 to say. Had a good time settin' about talkin' to the croo, and tonight sleeping on the dinner table. 8/17/01, day 155. ~13m. Lakes in the Clouds Hut So this morning I woke up and did some menial taks and ate a real breakfast with Wild Honey and the croo. Wild Honey then pointed out tat there was a lue blaze that cut 6m from the day, so he and I pranced about in the rain, getting lost a few times, then an arrival at Mizpah Hut where we were quite pleased to find an AYCE soup deal, then a beautiful hike through the beginning of the Presidential ridge, views of course ruined by the weather, but it had a romantic feel walking through the clouds. We arrived at Lakes, a huge hut, obtained workstays, then hung. The huts are odd places, full of civilians, thru-hikers, and croo, which seem to orm three distinct cliques. Anyway, when it came time to clean up Yolo, Wild Honey, Norway, Walkie-Talkie and I sat around trying to figure out how to be helpful but pretty much got in the way - it was insanity. 8/18/01, day 156. ~14m. Dad's house Today was a damn lot of bitch-ass fun. So I woke up under a table at Lakes to the sound of howlin wind and rain, and instantly realized that my day of exposed ridgewalk would be difficult if not outright dangerous, so my fellows and I discussed options: go for it, wait for better weather, or blud-blaze and miss the beautiful Presidentials. Go for it we did, so I pranced by a sign that said "Warning, mt. Washington experiences the worst weather in America. Many have died, etc. Turn back if the weather is bad." The wind was so strong that I had trouble standing straight to read it, but it was generally warm enough, and it wasn't raining (although I did get wet as the fog whipped past me). Windspeeds at the top of Washington were 50-60 mph, and I had a blast. At the scummit the gang arrive and Norway and Yolo (as my dad had offered over the phone) opted to come with me to Pinkham notch where my dad would pick me up. We hung at the scummit lodge for far too long, then bundled up and headed out to the Great Outdoors. We had a great time watching each other literally get blown over, but then a bit into the day, the kies cleared a little and the wind died down. The day was rock. Not rocky, which would indicate some Earth with rock on it - it was just rock. Big ones, jagged ones, small ones, slippery ones, little pebbly ones that slid under your feet, ones that moved when you stepped on them, etc. So it was extremely slow going, especially when the wind gusted while we were standing on wet rocks. We pulled into Madison Hut at about four, with 8m still left to go. We got going, but the steep descent put the hurt on the feel and knees, really slowing us down and making us somewhat miserable. Norway and I were amazed at how long it took us to do a mere 3m, so afte that we saw what we thought might be a 0.3m shortcut to NH. Even though the sign had no mileage listed and I couldn't find my map, we said what the Hell and charged of on some Trail, pretty much getting lost. I found my map, though, and some weekenders told us where to go, so we arrived at a random parking lot and convinced these people to take me down the road to Pinkham Notch where I called my dad. So here I am waiting. The other weird thing about the day is that all three of us had some weird renal problem, causing us to pee at lease every half hour. Odd stuff. So it was a bad day, knee-wise, but with gale-force winds and people like Norway and Yolo, I consider it one of the best I've had on Trail. 8/18/01, day 157. ~6m. Camping Near Carter Notch Hut. We got to sleep around midnight last night, so of course we slept in, then we had to do showers and laundry and bum around on the internet, then we had to go to the grocery and the outfitter and the golden arches, then an hour drive back to the Trail, so we pretty much didn't get moving until 2:30. It was a real fun scramble up to the top of Wildcat mountain then a short ridge just below treeline, where you get a sort of vibrant silence, the smell of damp Earth and balsam, the mollifying feel of your boot falling on the ground. It was heaven. Then I happened upon Norway settin' on a rock announcing that she had found some good campsites. Life is good, Maine is close. 8/20/01, day 158. 13.6m. Rattle River Shelter Today had a weird feel to it. It was cool and rainy, ruining the views from the 7 peaks I summited, but giving a fully romantic face to the day. I started off getting upset that it's all going to end so soon, then before lunch I started to get excited that Maine was so close, then by mid-afternoon I started to worry about life after Katahdin - actually getting a job, etc. This Trail gives you far too much time to think. Was going to pay to stay in town, but ass chafing and a little fiscal prudence parked me at this shelter 2m from town. I'm alone and listening to the sweet rain... 8/21/01, day 159. 13.7m. Gendian Pond Shelter Woke up late and took a very easy/appreciated 2m walk to the road where I got in and out of town in less than an hour, a feat I've never before come close to executing. Got myself some new socks (sweet, luscious, new socks) and went to a convenience store where I bought too little food, which is bad as it can result in death. Then I got all uppity and charged off for the Maine border, slipping on wet rocks and getting tired. Then I happened upon some lake with a moose chillin' in the middle of it, which was picturesque enough to still me for awhile, then another pond, then I realized Maine can wait. And now chilling in the shelter with Chesapeke listening/watching the rain. My view is of a place called Maine, and it sends chills down my spine. 8/22/01, day 160. 9.6m. Full Goose Shelter. Uh, I'm in Maine. I've been walking to Maine, and now I'm here. I had butterflies in my stomach all morning about "the sign" and the Trail ending, etc. But after I got over it I started slipping on wet rocks and falling down and cursing and loving Maine and, well, I'm here. I'm in no fierce mood to finish, but the Trail is of a finite length, so I suppose it'll have to end sometime. Tomorrow, "the notch!" Oooooh!
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