Author Archives: donsbrother4

So again, “The best laid plans of mice and men.” When Bruno dropped Pilgrim, Slim, and me at Pinkham Notch this morning, our intention was to hike a 13.1 mile day to the Imp Campsite. But when cold rain started pelting us a little before 2:00 after only a 6.2 mile day which took over six hours, we realized an early stop was mandatory. Thankfully, there were four bunk openings at the Carter Notch Hut. We bit the bullet and paid the $93 fee for the night. None of us wanted work for stay. We were happy to pay for the bunk and hot meal. I must have drunk at least six cups of hot tea during the rainy afternoon and at supper.

The day had started well. With a gentle trail for the first quarter mile,
we were able to get back into the hiking regimen after what could be considered two days off. The flat terrain around a pond was short-lived. And when the climbing began, it was intense. The task was to ascend four peaks of Wildcat Mountain. The climb was over 2000 feet to the first, peak E. I have no idea how they are labeled; however, the second peak we reached was D. At the top of D were two picnic tables next to an operating gondola. During our break only one group arrived at the peak by this method. The gondola operator looked kind of lonely.

Early in the day we hiked around Goose and All the Way. After the break on peak D we helped each other find the correct trail. Few white blazes are available in New Hampshire in places. It seemed like a long while before we located one on the short descent. Finally Goose hollered up that he had found one. From there we had to ascend again to peak C and eventually to 4422 feet on peak A. From there the trail got really tough on the descent. Even though it was only 600 feet, the rocks continued to present
great difficulty.

For me these downhills pose the greatest challenge. I often find myself needing to hug a ledge to keep my balance. I hiked most of the day with only one pole. This way allowed me to have a free hand to pull myself up the rock faces or use small trees at the edge of the trail for support. Still I had to sit on my seat and slide a few times due to the slanted, slick slabs. It’s just all real time consuming and frustrating to be hiking one mile or less an hour. After averaging over 18 miles a day through Vermont, the slower, deliberate pace tries my patience. It also requires a concerted focus at all times. Being someone who likes to think and daydream while I walk, this method of traversing the trail is downright torture.

So when we reached the Carter Notch Hut in the cold rain, we called it a day. Pilgrim and I are sharing a bunk room with Rodney and his 12 year old son Josh. Josh is working on summiting all the 4000 footers in New Hampshire. Slim is is another room. At dinner we sat with members of a large family who were out for three days. Bill from Philly was to my right. When he discovered that we were thru hikers he asked many questions. Another member of the family said her father had worked at the hut in the 40’s. Carter is the oldest original hut in the Whites.

So now I’m in my bunk writing this entry. Pilgrim is trying to sleep. He strained his back washing dishes at Lakes of the Clouds, and it’s still bothering him. The father and son appear to be reading. It’s dark outside. We are all using our headlamps. I will sleep soon because my alarm is set for 5:00. With wind chills below freezing on the higher elevation summits and wind gusts up to 60 MPH in the afternoon we plan to get an early start. Hopefully we will have the strength and will power to reach US 2, a hike of 14.9 miles which could take 15 hours, as we desperately try to soon get out of New Hampshire, the toughest state by far on the Appalachian Trail.

Weather always becomes a factor in any thru hike attempt of the Appalachian Trail. For the first time since I began this odyssey, the elements forced my buddies and me to not only alter our plans but to shift the order in which we were navigating the trail as well. With a 30 degree wind chill and wind gusts of 50 MPH, hiking off of Mt. Washington today just didn’t seem practical. Since rain is in the forecast for the next two days, we have decided to wait until Tuesday to continue at the summit. In the meantime I’ll take today off before hiking from Pinkham Notch to US 2 over the next two days. This will also necessitate a night in the woods. Meanwhile plans are in motion to get the group to Maine.

Having prearranged a ride back to the Mt. Washington auto road with Spirit, we kept the part of the itinerary which included a stop by the Gorham McDonalds for breakfast. While there Banzai asked to be released from his DBM contract so that he could join the group of Johnny Walker, Puffy, Gator, and Misery. The younger lads were all hiking today, and Banzai was itching to get out of New Hampshire. Susquehanna Slim, Pilgrim, and I hate to see our young friend go; however, we understand his request. Reluctantly, we all agreed. It’s been good having Banzai as part of the team since Connecticut. We will miss him.

After breakfast Spirit graciously agreed to take the three of us to Walmart where we could purchase supplies. While we were shopping she even baked us some cookies. Then she drove us to the Hiker’s Paradise Hostel and wished us well on the rest of our hike. I think this is about the fifth or sixth time that I thought I was saying goodbye to Spirit, but our paths always seem to cross again. So we checked in at the hostel with Bruno, got our bed linens, and made ourselves at home in paradise. Receiving Ninja Turtle sheets for my bunk brought back a memory or two.

After settling in I decided to give Sweet Tooth a call to see where Molar Man was today. It seems he is hiking a section just south of where we are. As the conversation continued Sweet Tooth said that she was also in Gorham. I invited her to join us for a pizza at an establishment just up the road. Over lunch we discussed our hiking plans for the next few days. Coincidentally, Molar Man plans to hike off of Mt. Washington on Tuesday as well. With a spot on the team after Banzai’s release, it looks like we could have a new member if we can work out the contract negotiations.

After lunch Slim, Pilgrim, and I spent a goodly amount of time discussing logistics for Maine. First, however, we have to finish the Whites and get out of New Hampshire. That will take at least four more days. So for now we wait. I’d rather be hiking, but I feel better knowing that we have a sane (if that’s possible in NH) plan in place. Rain or shine, early tomorrow we’ll be back on the trail at Pinkham Notch, leaving the treacherous Madison descent for Tuesday. I think it’s still all coming together as my hiking buddies and I prepare for the next step in the journey on the Appalachian Trail.

I’m at the summit of Mt. Washington, elevation 6288 feet. The greatest wind velocity anywhere was recorded here sometime in the 1930’s. It is cloudy outside, or should I say, the mountain is in the clouds. There are no views. The forecast is not encouraging. The temperature is 52 with wind gusts. It is not a pleasant day for a hike. So after hiking the 1.3 miles from Lakes of the Clouds hut, Banzai, Pilgrim, Susquehanna Slim, and I are taking the remainder of the day off. We are waiting for a shuttle to Gorham. The weather has dictated our plans for the day.

After a restless night on the floor at the Lakes of the Clouds hut, I awoke to the sound of pots and pans clattering in the kitchen at 5:30. The space I chose to repose for the evening happened to be near the path to the restrooms. It seemed like each of the 90 bunkers must have gone twice because the traffic flowed steadily throughout the night. Since the thru hikers who were working for stay were relegated to a small portion of floor space in the dining hall, we had to arise by 6:00.

Last night Slim and I had been assigned the task of rebinding visitor log books that dated back to 1961. Sarah, the lead crew member, made the assignments. We were grateful since the others had kitchen chores. We both liked chatting with nine year old Avery, a lad who gravitated to thru hikers, asking an assortment of questions. The little fellow, who said he aspired to a thru hike himself someday, told us his trail name was Puke. It seems a couple of thru hikers had dubbed Avery after he had gotten sick at Madison Hut the previous night. Young Puke seemed to be really enjoying his hut to hut adventure.

This morning after a breakfast of cold leftover oatmeal, I volunteered to sweep bunk rooms. Others in the group of ten also straightened and cleaned the rooms. So after our work was completed, we didn’t find ourselves leaving for the trail until almost 10:00. With the late start and a less than desirable weather forecast, an adjustment to plans was necessary. In fact, when we emerged from the hut, visibility was at 75 feet. Due to the cloud cover we had zero views on the hike up Mt. Washington. Since I needed to watch every step over the various size rocks, it really didn’t matter. It took us about an hour to cover the 1.3 miles to the summit. I wore my rain jacket, gloves,and long hiking pants due to the conditions.

At the top we took some pics by the summit sign and then ate an early lunch. Still debating what to do, eventually we all agreed that starting a hike in these conditions was not smart. So Pilgrim, Slim, and I bought tickets for the van shuttle via the auto road. Patty, our driver, told us that since we were thru hikers and had left the summit due to weather, that our tickets would be good for a round trip. We were most appreciative given that the tickets were $30. Pilgrim and I got the $5 senior discount. Banzai decided to forgo the shuttle and try to hitch. Turns out he arrived back in Gorham ahead of the rest of us.

When Pilgrim, Slim, and I reached Pinkham Notch, we still needed to find a way to town. While we were trying to find a shuttle Steady walked up. Spirit had just dropped him off. She gladly drove us to Gorham. So for the rest of the afternoon I relaxed. Later in the evening Spirit joined us for dinner and drove us to drop some gear at a hostel where we will stay tomorrow night. With 332.9 miles remaining I’m getting anxious. I know I need to be patient, but after four months it’s hard. Tomorrow will be another grueling day with potential rain in the forecast. We will confront the challenging Mt. Madison as we continue north on the Appalachian Trail.

It is 5:50 PM. I am sitting on a worn wooden bench at the Lakes of the Clouds Hut. Banzai, Pilgrim, Susquehanna Slim and I all received work for stay. Thru hikers Finder, Fatty, Roadrunner, Red Rocket, Star Child, Hermes, and Splash are also here. This AMC hut has bunk space for 90. It is full tonight. Most of the occupants are day hikers who walked up on one of the many White Mountain trails. Lakes of the Clouds is nestled between Mt. Monroe and Mt. Washington. We crossed Monroe in a heavy fog to get here about an hour ago, just before the rain commenced. We will tackle Washington in the morning. We are in the midst of the Presidential Range, the most spectacular section of the Appalachian Trail.

Earlier today Mike dropped my hiking buddies and me at Crawford Notch before heading back to Virginia. We immediately faced a 2000 foot climb up to Webster Cliffs to start our day. Within the first half hour I took a fall when I lost my balance at the beginning of a rock scramble. Other than a couple of minor scratches, I came out OK. For the remainder if the day I stayed on both feet. During the climb I was passed by Fatty and later saw Finder at a scenic outcrop. I had not seen her since PA. Goose and All the Way also passed me. I had last seen All the Way just south of Bland, VA. Banzai hiked ahead with the faster folks, leaving Pilgrim, Slim, and me to fend for ourselves.

The trail presented us with numerous technical segments as we eventually climbed to over 4000 feet at Mt. Jackson. Unbelievable panoramic views were visible in all directions for much of the day. After summiting Mt. Jackson we made our way to the Mizpah Springs Hut where we stopped for lunch. While there I talked a good while with crew member Eric. The young man gladly provided us with trail and weather information. Expecting afternoon storms, we wanted to be sure we could reach the Lakes of the Clouds before they hit. The 3.9 miles between the huts usually requires four hours to hike. Pilgrim, Slim, and I would do it in just over three. With exposed ridge line, we continued to enjoy unbelievably beautiful views all afternoon.

When we got to Mt. Pierce we had views of Eisenhower, Monroe, and Washington in the far distance. In AWOL’s Thru Hiker Handbook he has Mt. Clinton in parentheses after Pierce. I asked some day hiker New Hampshire residents about the change. They were unaware. Seems odd that someone would suggest taking New Hampshire native Franklin Pierce’s mountain from him. We later saw a new sign with a reference to President Clinton as well. By then we were approaching Eisenhower. The AT does not go over the summit of Mt. Eisenhower; however, there was a spur trail to the summit. We chose to stay on the AT and head for the hut.

Within a few hundred feet of the summit, the trail circumvents Eisenhower toward Mt. Monroe. Crossing Monroe, we noticed the increasing clouds. Literally within about ten minutes, all views were gone. The wind velocity increased as visibility diminished. I hiked ahead, hurriedly trying to make the hut before the inevitable rainfall. When it came into view I waited at an intersection where four trails meet for the others. Then the three of us hiked the last hundred yards to the hut together.

So now as I sit here awaiting dinner, I’m thinking how fortunate I was to experience the awe inspiring vistas that surrounded me today. The hike was tough but manageable. I’m hiking with care and deliberation at times, yet when the trail offers the opportunity, with more speed. It’s all good. Today was a good day. Even though it took over nine hours to hike the 11.2 miles, I definitely felt encouraged with my effort. So tomorrow I will ascend the tallest mountain on the AT. My buddies and I will climb Mt. Washington as we keep heading north up the Appalachian Trail.

As the hike gets tougher, so does finding the time to write about it. Although not as difficult as yesterday, today’s hike still took us almost ten hours to cover the 14.7 miles. With a fairly flat path over the final eight miles, I actually felt like I was hiking again rather than rock climbing. For the first time in the last week I didn’t have to watch my feet hit the ground with every step. At one point Slim and I even engaged in a conversation for a couple of miles. Lately it’s been almost impossible to hike (rock climb and rock scramble) and talk at the same time.

After an evening at the Galehead Hut, Banzai, Pilgrim, Susquehanna Slim and I headed up the trail at 6:45. The initial climb of over 1000 feet in 0.8 of a mile was one I remembered from a previous trip to the Whites. That time I had been hiking south. The climb north didn’t seem quite as challenging. We reached South Twin at 4902
feet in less than an hour. Unfortunately cloud cover prevented us from experiencing a view. From South Twin we had to walk over a short boulder field before reaching another 4000 footer, Mt. Guyot. By this time the clouds had dissipated enough for a view to the west.

From Mt. Guyot we descended almost 2000 feet to Zealand Falls Hut where we stopped for lunch. Several day hikers and section hikers were milling around. One hit us with a barrage of questions after discovering that we were thru hikers. Banzai answered most. The questioner said, “That’s amazing!” approximately 87 times during the ten minutes of interrogation. Like so many others, he and his wife marveled at what we are doing. No one yet has looked at me and said, “That’s insane.” I kind of wonder why. The hut crew offered us some complimentary soup since we were thru hikers. I declined but the others accepted their generosity. I’ve never much cared for black bean soup.

When we finished lunch, we embarked on the final 7.9 miles to Crawford Notch. With the gentler terrain we soon realized that we would be finished much sooner than originally anticipated. Along the way we met a southbound thru hiker from Georgia. A recent graduate of Emory in Atlanta and a Braves fan, Gospel plans to go into the ministry in the United Methodist Church. Gospel is the first hiker I’ve met from my home state in a good while. Other than a few day hikers and a couple of trail runners, we saw no one. One young lady with two beautiful, well-behaved labs, met us twice, having been hiking on a loop course. In the Whites there are numerous trails that meet with the AT at various junctures.

So with comfortable temps and hike-able terrain, my buddies and I reached Crawford Notch before five. Mike was waiting to drive us to Gorham for a meal and a room. Our shuttler and support person has to leave us tomorrow, so we will then have to go back to hitching rides and using shuttle drivers off the thru hiker list. It’s been good having Banzai’s brother for the past two weeks, but now he must return to the regular world. In some ways I’d like to join him. That time, however, will come soon enough. For now the presidential range awaits as Banzai, Pilgrim, Slim and I meet Jackson, Pierce, Eisenhower, and Monroe tomorrow on the Appalachian Trail.

Tuesday, July 30….”Ahhh MAN” is a favorite expression of mine when something really spectacular occurs on the trail. Today I uttered the expression multiple times as I summited three 4000 footers and walked along the Franconia Ridge. I may have to check a thesaurus to fine more descriptive adjectives for the views I have had the privilege of observing over the past three hikes. Breathtaking, spectacular, awesome, and majestic just don’t seem to do justice to the White Mountains of New Hampshire. These mountains are beyond description. Today I felt like I was a part of a postcard for much of the morning. I just hope my pics in some way capture the grandeur of where I am hiking.

Before Banzai, Pilgrim, Slim, and I even began our hike, we had to walk a one mile side trail back to the AT. These extra miles don’t count for official mileage, so our total AT mileage for the day was 13.0. Like Sunday, the miles were rough. In fact, it took me almost twelve hours to compete the hike. With continued difficult, at times treacherous terrain, by he end of the day I was drained both mentally and physically. A 13.0 mile day used to be a nero. I could hike that mileage and have half the afternoon free. In the Whites, however, I’m exhausted after completing the day.

When my buddies and I did reach the trail we were immediately greeted with almost a 4000 foot climb to the Franconia Ridge. With a fairly navigable trail early in the morning, we made good time to the Liberty Springs Campsite. Cam, a caretaker at the area, emerged from his tent to give us some information about the trail conditions. From there we continued the pursuit of our first of three 4000 footers, Little Haystack. Totally overwhelmed with the surrounding beauty, I shot some video as I exclaimed my first, “Ahhh MAN.” With the wind blowing at a predicted 35 miles an hour, I put on my rain jacket and later gloves. At one point the wind actually blew me over.

After Little Haystack we walked along the Franconia Ridge to Mt. Lincoln at 5089 feet and then Mt. Lafayette at 5289. We all paused often and took numerous pics along the ridge line. Even though we were sporadically in the clouds, views prevailed in most directions. I literally felt like I was on top of the world. It was beyond exhilaration. A few section hikers were hanging out at the summit including a hiker from Ireland who was hiking with a man from Montreal. We also saw thru hikers TK and Mountain Goat. Later in the day I would see Roadrunner, a hiker who had started from Springer two days before I started, but that I had not seen until Saturday on Moosilauke.

The ridge walk was by far the highlight of the day. Unfortunately, we eventually had to come down from the ridge and reenter the trees. The trail then became another time consuming sea of large rocks. Some required precise maneuvering in order to get down the wet slabs. Interspersed were some uphill sections which required rock scrambling. These weren’t as difficult as Kinsman, but they still demanded focus and concentration. The most challenging section for me came after the fourth 4000 footer of the day, Mt. Garfield. After the climb we encountered a very steep, precipitous descent. With numerous wet rock slabs to negotiate, I had to sit on the seat of my pants and inch my way down on a couple of occasions. The treacherous descent took its toll on me. Feeling mentally fatigued, my pace slowed radically.

In the afternoon Banzai hiked on to Galehead Hut, hoping to get a work for stay at the AMC maintained facility. Eventually, Slim also hiked ahead to make sure he, Pilgrim, and I had a bunk. Meanwhile I kept working hard to find ways down the rocks without falling. It proved to be a definite challenge. Pilgrim and I hiked deliberately, finally reaching the hut just as dinner was beginning. It was good to have a solid meal awaiting. The crew members at the hut were most accommodating. Each member introduced him/herself and talked about their most serious injury. They seem to be really nice young folks.

So I have now completed three hiking days in the Whites. By far, they have been the toughest. I’m physically tired. I’m mentally tired. I’m seriously ready for this hike to reach its final destination. The beauty on the ridges easily surpasses the difficulty of the dangerously perilous rocky ascents and descents. I’ll try to keep remembering that tomorrow as I continue the White Mountains of New Hampshire. I’m OK. If this were easy the success rate would be higher than the usual 20%. So early in the morning I’ll be at it again as I head toward Maine on the Appalachian Trail.

Today as I sit in a comfortable motel room watching a hard, steady rainfall, I’m reminded of what a significant role weather plays in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. If I were on a ridge line in this downpour there would be no escape. I would have to keep walking to the next shelter, which might take hours. So it looks like a day off was a good plan. Still, we will hike tomorrow, hopefully under the forecasted sunshine.

On this zero day I’m also reminded of all I have to be thankful for. Right now I’m especially grateful for the three hikers who have joined with me for the final push toward the end. Their companionship has sustained me through some difficult times already. Knowing that someone is nearby, just in case an emergency arises, is also reassuring. Hopefully, we can all stay together, healthy and content, throughout the remainder of the journey.

The day off has been good. We’ve been able to plan for the next few days and rest. We never know what awaits on any given day. Tomorrow we hope sunshine will prevail and we will have the strength and perseverance to continue the pursuit of a mountain in Maine at the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail.

Sunday, July 28…..For the first time since I began this thru hike of the Appalachian Trail, four months and five days ago, last night I was just too tired to write. After quite possibly the most demanding physical and mental day of any athletic pursuit, I lay my head upon a soft pillow, completely exhausted. I’m still feeling the after effects as I sit under a gazebo at a motel with a view of these majestic Whites. With tired bodies and thunderstorms in the forecast, my buddies and I easily concluded that a zero day was a wise choice. So with 373.1 miles remaining, I’m resting. It feels good to prop my feet up and know that I won’t have to think about every step as I walk today. I’ll try to live normally, at least for a day.

Quite honestly, I don’t think Banzai, Pilgrim, Susquehanna Slim and I realized just how challenging the day was going to be when we entered the woods at Kinsman Notch. We knew it would be hard. I just didn’t expect to take 14 hours to walk 16.3 miles. The first surprise came with the ascent of Mt. Wolf. Since Wolf is not one of the 4000 footers, we failed to recognize its difficulty. Like so many of the mountains in the Whites, it was more of rock scrambling than hiking. In fact, there was little “hiking” today. When we did rarely come across a seemingly level section, it almost always consisted of large areas of oozing, squishy, black mud. When I put my pole down to check its depth, the mud sucked up one-third of it. Figuring out a path around or finding small rocks or sticks to step on also posed a challenge. Every step of the day necessitated total focus. My brain ached. Not like a headache. It can best be described as mental fatigue.

The terrain down Wolf demanded just as much concentration. I kept telling myself to be deliberate. Twice I had near falls but managed to stay vertical throughout the morning. When we reached Eliza Brook Shelter we took a lunch break. Still in good spirits, I didn’t realize at the time that it was going to take me over eight hours to cover the last 8.8 miles. The trail from the shelter parallels Eliza Brook for almost a mile. It also, however, begins ascending again. And so we climbed and climbed and climbed up South Kinsman Mountain. My trekking poles proved worthless often since I needed both hands to hoist myself up the rocks. It was hard. At one point I jabbed my neck and scratched my hand on a jagged tree limb as I tried to balance myself near the edge of the trail. Every step required precision. A serious fall constantly awaited. Focus and deliberation were essential.

When we finally arrived above tree-line at the summit of South Kinsman Mountain, like yesterday on Moosilauke, the views were unbelievable. It’s like being in an airplane with no fuselage. While we were taking a break, our friend Steady walked up. Banzai decided to hike on with him, so after reaching the peak of North Kinsman a mile later, I wouldn’t see either Banzai or Steady again for the remainder of the day. From the peak of North Kinsman at 4293 feet, Slim, Pilgrim, and I started the slow, tedious, time consuming treacherous descent. It was brutal. At least five times I found myself purposefully on the seat of my shorts trying to inch my way down the perilous, slanted rock slabs. The climb down from Kinsman required as much or more mental effort than physical. At some point Slim also got ahead. By the time Pilgrim and I finally reached the Lonesome Lake Hut, I was spent.

Throughout the White Mountains the Appalachian Mountain Club maintains a series of huts that sleep between 30 and 90 hikers. They allow a few thru hikers to work for stay. Otherwise, they cost $98 which is a discounted fee for thru hikers. Amazingly most are full many nights with short section hikers and tourists. When Pilgrim and I reached Lonesome Lake I went in to see if Banzai and Slim were there. They were not. So Pilgrim and I ate a snack and then set out for the final three miles to Franconia Notch. It was already after 6:00.

The trail was flatter for those final three; however, we encountered two more obstacles. The bridge over Cascade Brook is out, so we had to figure out how to get across the rushing waters. I first tried the rock hop method but changed my mind when I slipped on a wet one and went down for the first time today. For the third time today I bled. The cut on my knee was minor, but still I set a record for blood during one day. After the fall I just walked through the knee deep water to the other side. I did the same when we got to Whitehouse Brook, a half mile from the notch. My feet were freezing from the icy cold water. They felt better by the time I arrived at the road. Slim was waiting. He, Pilgrim, and I still had to walk about a mile up a bike path to the Liberty Springs parking lot.

So finally my day on the AT had come to an end. It was 14 hours after I had begun at 5:50 in the morning. I had scratches on my neck, right hand, and right knee. Each of my buddies had also fallen at least once. Bruised and battered, we drove through a light drizzle as nightfall arrived. We found a restaurant and then finally settled in at the motel at 10:30. It was a long day, a tiring day, a day that I will remember. A day of rest should help. We are OK. On Tuesday we’ll continue our journey through the Whites, a little more cognizant of the perils that may await. Perils of the trail sometimes, however, are no different than the perils of life.

A year ago my brother had one month to live. He struggled daily to just exist. He couldn’t move. He had difficulty breathing. He could do nothing for himself except think. Only he knew his thoughts. I believe one of my reasons for this hike was to try to find a way to suffer just a fraction of the way Don suffered during that final month of his life. Today was hard, really hard. But what I encountered today pales in comparison to what Don had to undergo that painful last month. There are tough days ahead. There are mountains to be climbed and descended. There are rivers to be forded and nights to be slept in the woods. There is also beauty and tranquility to be appreciated and enjoyed. One more month on the Appalachian Trail.

I first hiked in the White Mountains twelve years ago. Today I returned. Filled with a combination of apprehension, excitement, and fear, I accomplished exactly what I set out to do. For 9.3 miles I enjoyed the beauty of Mt. Moosilauke, shared the experience with good hiking friends, and didn’t fall. I hiked with caution and deliberation all day, anticipating potential danger and watching each footfall. Even with the careful approach I still had multiple opportunities to pause and admire God’s wondrous creation. Yes, the views all day were breathtaking and beyond. Banzai, Pilgrim, Susquehanna Slim, and I could not have had a better day for our first day in the Whites. It is a day I won’t soon forget.

Today was especially important to me because I knew I needed to get past that queasy feeling left over in my stomach from that initial trip here. If any of my readers would like a refresher, go back and read my first entry entitled “A Beginning.” The hiker that entered the White Mountains today at 62 differed greatly from the one who struggled to survive a three day trip in 2001. The fear has subsided; however, a tremendous amount of respect will be offered to these majestic mountains each day I set foot in them. They command a certain degree of reverence. Their difficulty supersedes anything the AT has served up thus far.

Our day began with a short road walk detour. Due to a swollen creek without a footbridge, the trail had been diverted up NH 25 to High St. From there we entered the woods where the AT crossed. As we entered a section hiker, Step Lightly, was also beginning her hike. We would walk with her most of the morning until the summit. During that time the trail elevates from 1068 feet to 4802 at the crest of Mt. Moosilauke. The gradual ascent did not pose any significant challenge. We took a couple of short breaks prior to reaching a 0.1 mile side trail to the south summit. Banzai even chose to do “extra credit” and join Slim and me for the short walk. We all smiled with exhilaration when we first found ourselves above tree-line. It was quite a sight.

After retracing our steps to the white blazes, we rejoined Pilgrim and Step Lightly for the final approach to the summit of Mt. Moosilauke. And what an awesome site it was when we got there. A sign marked the spot of the 4802 foot crest. What appeared to be at least 50 day hikers were just lounging around enjoying the panoramic views. My buddies and I ate our lunch even though it was only 11:20. While relaxing we chatted with several folks who were interested in our thru hikes. One lady had a small black poodle, Duncan, who showed interest in my burger. Step Lightly’s boyfriend, Mark, also arrived after hiking up from the north trailhead. Mike did the same hike as well. With hikers mingling in all directions and dogs romping, the summit of Mt. Moosilauke took on a party appearance.

Eventually we realized that there was still much hiking yet to be done. So just after noon we began the treacherous descent. We have proof of its danger. See the two sign pics at the end of this post. For readers on trailjournals, go to Don’s Brother’s Hike of Hope The first 2.3 miles of the 3.8 mile descent were rather tame. But with 1.5 remaining, the work truly began. It took me almost two hours to make my way down the very steep, rocky, slippery trail. For much of the downward trek, a cascading waterfall bordered the trail on the left. At one point the trail was so close that it may have been tempting for some hikers to reach over and touch the water. Keeping my eyes on my feet, I had no such thought. My only consideration was maintaining focus. I just wanted to stay vertical.

During the walk down I was passed by numerous day hikers. All were young. Two couples from the Manchester, NH area hiked near me for a brief time with their dog. Greg, Dan, Carrie, and Jen expressed interest in my hike when I told them I had started in March. Rudy, the dog, bounded down the rocks with an agility that made me envious. Unable to maintain their pace, I soon watched them walk into the distance as I continued to hike deliberately. I was grateful that Slim would occasionally wait on me, often with a warning of an upcoming extremely troublesome area. With a quickly fatiguing brain, I eventually managed to reach the final challenging section which was followed by the road. In the parking lot we visited with Spirit who was waiting on Steady.

So my first day back in the Whites can be classified as a success in all respects. I am a relieved, content hiker as I type this. There are still many miles left to be completed and even more difficult and potentially dangerous mountains to be climbed. But for now I’m pleased that I met the challenge of Mt. Moosilauke. All in all today proved to be about as exhilarating as I could have imagined. Tomorrow my buddies and I will continue the hike through the Whites as we work our way through New Hampshire on the Appalachian Trail.

Over breakfast at the Longhorn Palace Pancake House, Mike noted that coffee is the ubiquitous drink. When I commented that “ubiquitous”
didn’t often come up in hiker conversation, Mike said that one could become an expert on anything with a little research. From there he lectured briefly on Faroe, some Scandinavian island near Iceland. Having taught MacBeth a couple of hundred times, I said I suppose I could talk about the Shakespearean tragedy for awhile. Pilgrim said he didn’t know the story of “MacDeath.” Fortunately we were about finished with breakfast as the conversation took the downward spiral.

As for the trail today, rocks, mud, roots, leaves, and a minuscule amount of pine straw prevailed. Mud overwhelmingly led the way with roots taking a distant second. Views came in last since there were none on the 9.9 mile section from NH 25A to NH 25. I’m not quite sure why different New Hampshire roads have the same numbers with a letter affixed. It can get downright confusing at times. But before I start rambling too much, there really wasn’t anything noteworthy to report on in regards to the trail today. It was simply more of the same. To relieve the tedium, at one point I was requested to summarize MacBeth. I did so over about a mile. Banzai followed my lecture with a discourse on Job.

Like most of the past few days, we met some southbound thru hikers. One, Flip, said he got his trail name because he did backflips on the trail, without his pack of course. I failed to mention Puck, another SOBO that I met earlier in the week. Puck carries a hockey stick in lieu of a trekking pole. Almost all of the southbounders have been young men. I’ve only encountered two women and three folks around my age. The closer we get to the end, the more hikers headed to Georgia I will see. Some already look a bit weary. When asked, they also will provide information on what lies ahead. The only problem, however, it that each perspective may differ. For instance, Puck can’t understand why we aren’t all carrying hockey sticks.

Throughout the day we only took one break. We did so at Mt. Mist, a spot where section hiker Laura and her teenage son Sam were resting as well. We had seen the duo yesterday. I shared my web page with Laura and listened as she talked about some of her previous hikes including her first climb of Katahdin. From there Banzai, Pilgrim, Susquehanna Slim. and I hiked at a steady, rather fast pace all the way to the road. About a mile before reaching it, Mike met us. He continues to enjoy doing some out and back jaunts for exercise. A former collegiate cross-country runner, Mike typically hikes at a pace equivalent to his brother.

Before driving back to Lincoln we stopped at a nearby hostel in Glencliff to gather some information about the Whites from Legion, an AT and PCT finisher. When we got back to town we had lunch and visited the post office. Walking around a bit, we ran into several other Northbounders. I hadn’t seen Salad Days and Risk It seen since Daleville, VA. They offered some advice and strategy for our first significant climb up Moosilauke. Sadly, their description of the mountain didn’t alleviate my trepidation. Still it was good to hear the perspective of someone who had just ascended it.

So tomorrow we begin the notorious Whites. Like most marathon runners, I have always held the belief that the half way point of the race is 20 miles. It takes as much physical and mental energy to complete the final 6.2 as it does the first 20. I have now reached the “real” half way mark of the Appalachian Trail. Everything up to this point has been a warm-up for what now awaits. Tomorrow my hiker friends and I will enter the Whites. This is like being promoted from Double A baseball to the major leagues. Where I have been averaging two to two and a half miles an hour, I’ll now need an hour or more just to cover a mile. It’s going to be tough. I’ll also need to be even more cautious as I try to meet the challenge of the White Mountains of New Hampshire with only 398.7 miles left to walk on the Appalachian Trail.