Days 155-164: “It Doesn’t Go Anywhere. It’s Always There, and You Can Take It With You.”

I love New Hampshire.

There, I said it. I love its gorgeous terrain — the way the moss envelops these huge rock faces, the ever-lasting feeling of being in an enchanted forest, the uphill rock scrambles up the mountains. I love every minute I’ve spent in this beautiful state.

I love climbing up around the mountains. I don’t even mind that NH doesn’t seem to believe in switchbacks.

You might even say I never want to leave the state, what with the vortex I’ve found myself in at The Notch Hostel since this past Sunday.

We took it easy enough the first few days, doing 12-15 miles and monitoring Ketchup’s and my bad ankles. (Between the two of us, we had one set of good legs!). Every mountaintop, we would try and find the whites in the distance. The inclines became more and more New Hampshire-y, with steep grades and big rock scrambles uphill.

My favorite pre-Moosilauke summit was Smarts.

We took a retroblaze most of the way up the mountain that, while it may have been a more forgiving incline grade, was treacherous as hell. Ketchup slipped and nearly banged up his knee at some point on a section that was all slick, wet rock and mud going uphill. I was calculating each step so I didn’t bust my butt and fall down the mountain. It only got more treacherous as we met back up with the white blazes and got to the top… but it was worth it. Worth every worry over a misstep.

The firetower atop Smarts was one that scared the bejeezus outta me. I climbed it, like I try to do every firetower. and made it a grand total of 3 minutes before the panic attack became too much to stay in the cabin at the top of the stairs. But I was determined to conquer that fear, so I came back in the morning for sunrise and compromised with myself to stay at the top of the stairs and not go in the cabin. I’m so glad I did, because look at this:

I was gifted with golden sunlight shining upon a sea of inverted clouds. I love inverted clouds — I had never seen them with my own eyes before coming out on trail, and we’re in a section that’s known for its incredible views of them. It’s like I’m sitting on a sky beach, like something out of a fairy tale of flying beasts and sky nomads.

Every view up here is something special.

Every single one. We were at a vista, and I looked up and saw a fantastic spot to look out at the mountains and made it my mission to get Ketchup, 501, and I up there. It was a spot, we later found out, that Ketchup had camped at during his last thru-hike. It was a bit off trail, but we made it there. It was, at the time, my favorite view on trail.

We sat up there in silence for a while, just taking in the way the sunbeams hit the valleys and mountains as the clouds did their cloud thing. Watching a far-off rainstorm, seeing the light reflect off of a distant lake. I wanted to stay there forever, just basking in the glow of the world and all its beauty. And I didn’t even know how much better it was going to get.

We hiked up a giant slab of quartzite on Mt. Cube.

I loved that mountain’s obsession with shapes and geometry. The Hexacuba shelter, the Penta-Privy — which was, honestly, a huge let-down as it is a new Penta-Privy which lacks the upside down pentagram and thus I no longer felt like using it would lend to fun “exorcising demons” jokes.

We got off that mountain and made it to a road crossing where we saw David, who had shared a shelter with us the night before. He was heading to Hikers Welcome and was waiting on a shuttle. My feet were sore, and my knees and ankles were feeling the NH descents in ways that were a tad worrisome, so we contemplated joining him and staying the night at the hostel. That contemplation turned into a “oh HELL yes” when THE Ms Janet pulled up to pick us up in the shuttle! So off we went for a night of clean clothes, clean bodies, flush toilets, and real beds.

It was Moosilauke Eve for us, and the anticipation was palpable.

Our first real taste of the whites. Going up 3500’ in elevation over 3.8 miles. Being nearly 5000’ up at the summit. Scrambling up rocks most of the way up.

I was excited. I was scared. I had been waiting for inclines like this — ones with less walking and more climbing. They felt less exhausting to me, more engaging, less like I couldn’t breathe. I was worried it wouldn’t be what I expected, that I’d struggle my way up this mountain like I had so many others before. That I’d feel all those ways in which my body was lesser, all the ways it couldn’t keep up.

But guess what?

I’m a badass who’s only gotten stronger over the last five months. I’m a beast in these streets — er, trails. I ate that mountain like it was breakfast and I’d been starving. The “hardest part” (scrambling up the mountain) was the most fun I’ve had on an incline all trail.

The real hardest part came while sitting atop the summit. It had been an incredible day, nearly perfect in every way. We had a lovely climb up, we had each packed out a summit beer, we saw nine dogs altogether!! And the clearest blue skies as far as the eye could see. I stared out at what was to come: at the presidentials up ahead, at Mt Washington off in the distance looming over all the ridges before it with an ominous circle of clouds around it.

It was perfect. It was beautiful. But it was missing something.

I’ve come a long way emotionally since the Shennies.

It’s gotten not just easier, but actually enjoyable to hike since the initial hardships of splitting off with Achilles. Views felt full again, hiking felt fun, I was having a blast in ways I hadn’t felt the first half of this thru-hike. I felt so happy in how I was hiking, how strong of a hiker I’d become. I loved the people I was hiking around, but I still loved hiking solo and getting some alone time.

This was the first time in hundreds of miles that something on trail felt emptier with the lack of his presence.

I sat there for a while trying to work through it, reminding myself how this experience is still so incredible, still my own, still something beautiful and wondrous and magnificent. I knew it, and I felt it, but I found myself wishing I hadn’t hiked with him at all so that I could feel it more fully. Wishing that my friends were enough, that I was enough, to enjoy that experience with. Wondering why what was by all accounts a perfect day felt so nearly perfect. Anxious that the rest of my stunning views would feel similarly going forward.

We hiked down to the shelter and I fell asleep around 6pm.

We got to the Notch the next day, and I’ve been vortexed here since.

And what a wonderful vortex it’s been. I wish I could stay forever, honestly.

I knew I wanted to come here after seeing Dragonsky sing its praises. I was excited to be at a space that I felt completely free and safe to be myself. To tell people my pronouns, to be addressed the way that makes me happy and comfortable (which is a rarity on trail), to be in a space that cares about marginalized peoples and communities the same way I do and works to provide a space for people on trail who don’t always feel welcome in the thru-hiker community — a predominantly white, cis, and heterosexual space; something I want to talk more about once I summit Katahdin. The desire to stay was reinforced when Skywalker chimed in with his love for the place as well.

And it’s been a blast! Monday, we went to a line dancing class at the senior center and closed out the night doing music bingo at the brewery — where the bartender requested our return the next night for karaoke (y’all know I love karaoke). Tuesday, we napped and watched half of Hook on the projector screen and then went out for drinks and snacks and, of course, karaoke — where Pearl joined us with Sugar, who I’ve been following my whole thru-hike and felt so inspired by for months!!! I threw the idea out of running a one-shot on Wednesday when we arrived on Sunday and had a full party take me up on the offer! I got to see Firesloth, who I’ve been bumping into the whole trail and finally got to really hang out and connect with. I met Terra, an amazing woman who’s not only fun and suggested the line dancing and bingo in the first place but is an activist doing awesome work bringing awareness to and fundraising for causes like Summits in Solidarity. I admire and appreciate her openness in talking about her struggles on trail and in life, and felt like I’d found a kindred spirit. I met Cuddlesloth, who does not curse (or wear armour at the beginning of a one-shot D&D campaign, which is an admirable yet stupid choice) and makes wonderful biscuits (and indulged in learning how to play the 12-hole ocarina with me). I met SWP (Sings With the Pines) who made homemade pita bread and let me lick clean a bowl he’d mixed double fudge brownie batter in, but most importantly partook in an hours-long conversation about Lord of the Rings around the firepit on night one. 501 and I loved the firepit hangs, especially once Marlboro got here and we got to know him better.

Wednesday morning, I waited not-so-patiently for Ms Janet to drop off some precious cargo.

Achilles was taking a zero here with me — his first zero since we were in NYC. I’d been both anticipating and dreading it, since I’m always worried that I’ll feel like garbage once we split off again. I haven’t, not the last couple of times, but it’s a worry that’s always there. But it was worth the dread. I missed him, and it’s nice to be able to spend time with him again in a hiker environment after the last two times we really spent time together were in DC and NYC.

We all made cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches and sat around the fire that night to play D&D. Two of our four players dropped out to spectate, and while Cuddlesnake and Achilles got TPK’ed (“total party kill”) in one encounter it was still some of the most fun I’ve had on trail.

And now here I lay, waiting for Achilles to get back from hiking Moosilauke, ready to hike out tomorrow and hit the Whites.

370 miles til Katahdin. The Lonely Mountain grows ever closer. I never want it to end, but my finances and the approaching cold season call for a new change of pace.

I wonder who I’ll be in a month from now, standing atop that summit. I wonder what the next adventure will be.

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2AM and I’m still awake writing this song

If I get it all down on paper it’s no longer inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to

And I feel like I’m naked in front of the crowd

‘Cause these words are my diary screamin’ out loud

And I know that you’ll use them however you want to

But you can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable

And life’s like an hourglass glued to the table

No one can find the rewind button now, sing it if you understand

And breathe… just breathe...

— “Breathe (2AM)” by Anna Nalick