Day 131: Setting Up for the Whites

Decisions, Decisions

Now that was an easy choice. I could either do 19.2 miles today, including Mt. Moosilauke, or 11 miles and leave Mt. Moosilauke for tomorrow.  Mt. Moosilauke, a steep 3,800-foot ascent with an even steeper descent, is considered the first of New Hampshire’s big climbs and the beginning of the White Mountains. When I saw the weather forecast, the choice became even easier. It had rained all night and wouldn’t stop until noon.

I rolled over and went back to sleep. I could wait out this morning’s driving rain, hike the 11 miles to the base of Mt. Moosilauke this afternoon, and tackle the big climb early tomorrow before the next rainstorm swept through.

A Lazy Morning

I’m not much for sleeping late, but I managed to stay in bed until 7:00 am. Northstar had found us nice campground right on the Connecticut River, so I set up my laptop so I could watch the rain on the river while I wrote. Then I cleaned up the van, took Gus for a quick walk during a break in the downpour, and enjoyed a second cup of chai without the usual rush to get out the door.

Time to Hike

Northstar dropped Gus and me off in a light drizzle just after lunch. I walked a muddy trail into dripping woods under a gray, ominous sky, though the rain was so intermittent that I never bothered to put on any rain gear. The trail slowly ascended into foggy, low clouds, wrapping the trail in storybook mists – a salamander afternoon.

I’d originally planned to hike 9.5 miles to NH25C near Glencliff, but then saw that I could add another 1.5 miles and bag the 1800-mile marker today. Today’s hike only had about 2,500 feet of climbing, with no steep climbs or descents. An easy day.

FarOut promised me views from Mt. Mist, but it hadn’t seen the weather report. The dark woods and low clouds would be my only views today. So I missed misty Mt. Mist. Besides, bagging the summit required hiking a 0.7-mile blue blaze trail. Anyone who hikes an extra 1.4 miles to summit a minor peak with partial views on a foggy day has my respect. I am not that ambitious.

Roll Call

I almost missed the first two hikers I passed today. Both sat on logs 15 feet off the trail, barely visible in the fog and surrounded by dense underbrush. The first was cooking something warm on a JetBoil stove, waving a silent hello as I walked by. The second, just a hundred yards up the trail, was burning a blunt and looked away furtively without a greeting. None of us wanted to spoil the ghostly silence with idle conversation.

I walked the next few hours completely alone. Fresh tracks though the mud told me that others had walked this way today. But those folks not only didn’t have the sense to stay out of the rain, they just plodded right through the ankle-deep mud. I haven’t reached that level of oneness with the trail yet.

I Hear Voices

About a half mile before NH25C, I hiked up behind Voices. He was feeling chatty today, so we walked and talked, mostly catching up on hikers we both knew. He told me Cheater had gotten Lyme Disease, which Voices attributes to wearing shorts on the trail.

I told him I’d seen his name in the hiker’s log at the trail magic in West Hartford last week but had been surprised at a few of the hikers who’d gotten ahead of us. He scoffed at one name I mentioned and said derisively that they were “retro-blazers.” That was a new one for me.

A retro-blazer is someone who hikes the former AT alignment, rather than the current, official trail. I’d heard that called “black blazing,” because the white blazes on old alignments are sometimes painted over with black paint. I guess I’d retro-blazed off Killington last week, so I can add that to my resume of AT sins.

1800 Miles

I left Voices at NH25C, where he stopped to find a nearby hostel to get out of the rain. Gus and I crossed the highway and then crossed the unbridged, waste deep Oliverian Brook on a fallen log. I made it safely across. Gus jumped off and swam, giving himself a much-needed bath and leaving a brown plume of mud trailing downstream of his path.

After a short climb, we passed the 1800-mile marker someone had built out of birch bark. Less than 400 miles to go. Katahdin feels so close now. It feels possible.

I’m so happy. It feels good to hike again. It feels good to feel good. After so much dreary hiking, the trail is enjoyable again. Even in the rain.

Daily Stats:

• Start: NH25A (Mile 1789.6)
• End: Glencliff Trailhead (Mile 1800.6)
• Weather: Overcast, occasional drizzle, drippy trees, cool, humid.
• Earworm: The Caissons rolled once again.
• Meditation: Sovereignty and individual will
• Plant of the Day: Birch
• Best Thing: Sleeping in
• Worst Thing: Mud