08-07-13 Somewhere near Crawford Notch

We slept under a table in the dining room and got up and packed before the guests. We hung around until after the guests were fed, then ate all the leftover pancakes and pineapple. To finish off our work-for-stay, we swept the floors in the dining and bunk rooms.

We began the eight mile stretch to Crawford Notch with Cliff Note. The trail was uncharacteristic of the Whites--graded, smooth, easy. We flew.

We reached the notch around noon. The next section is the Presidential section of the White Mountains, 20 miles of ridge line walk all exposed and above tree line. The forecast called for evening showers, and thunderstorms all day Thursday.

Mount Washington is not the place to be in a storm. It is famous for its "dangerously erratic weather" and until 2010, held the highest wind gust record at 231 mph. Yes, I typed that correctly, 231 mph! Over 137 deaths have occurred on the summit due to the weather.

We called an audible and decided to let the weather roll through before tackling the Presidentials. A hard decision, especially since it was still beautiful out. Cliff Note joined us, and the three of us caught a ride into North Conway, New Hampshire.

Typical Americans, we crashed at McDonalds for cheap food, air conditioning and a place to recharge our electronics.

We walked over to Doc and Llama's house for the night. They are former thru-hikers of the Appalachian and Pacific Crest Trails. After sweeping out the garage, we setup on a few cots in the garage. They generously allowed us to shower and launder our clothes.

08-06-13 Somewhere near Zealand Falls

Woke up early and tackled Mount Garfield before the sun rose above the ridge. Although rocky at times, the trail was kind to us today.

Stopped for lunch atop South Twin Mountain with majestic 360-degree views. I also got a halfway decent signal to call Merrell's customer service number. My new shoes are separating. Fortunately, Merrell has a one-time replacement for thru-hikers.

We continued along the Zeacliff Ridge, then dropped down to the Zeacliff Falls Hut. We actually got to the side trail at 3:30 p.m. but lingered for thirty minutes before approaching the hut.

At tinge after four, we went into the hut and talked to "Kroo" member Kayla about a work-for-stay. She was happy to have us, and after washing dishes for 45 minutes, we had an awesome (leftover) dinner of lasagna, soup and chocolate sour dough cake. We are joined by NOBO buddy Cliff Note, and SOBO Chicory.

08-05-13 Along the Franconia Ridge Together

After a 5:15 a.m. wake-up alarm of a SOBO hiker throwing up, we resupplied and were headed back to the trail.

It was a hardy climb up to Franconia Ridge, but very very rewarding. Up above tree line, we reached Little Haystack first. Without the protection of the trees, it was extremely windy. We ducked behind a few boulders for lunch.

The trail continued along the open ridge line to Mount Lincoln and Mount Lafayette each with magnificent views. We had to keep our center of gravity low, though, because of the sudden wind gusts.

The trail back down to the tree line was tricky, but once concealed amongst the trees, we were relieved to have a break from the wind.

We set up our stealth camp at an old shelter site in the 30s. Although nothing remains except a clearing, it was fun to feel somewhat connected to the past.

08-04-13 Somewhere in the Kinsmans

I'll start by saying today was a very low day for me. The Whites are breaking me down, but I'll try to put a positive spin on things.

We slept in an hour then proceeded down the trail to see that we hadn't reached Gordon Pond the evening before. Further north we hiked up Mount Mist to see a panoramic view of fog--no surprise.

For those who complain about the mud in "Vermud," they have obviously never been to New Hampshire. We came to one of many pools of mud and I leapt for a bog bridge half submerged in the mud only to land on my rear end, the left leg engulfed in mud up to my knee. Pulling my leg out was the easy part. Pulling my leg out, but keeping the shoe on was tricky. I struggled and twisted, ranted and raved, but finally pulled out a muddy leg and a muddy shoe.

Next up was Kinsman Mountain. I have nothing remotely positive to say about this. Hard technical climbs. Hard technical descents. Cold. Windy. Rainy. Chuppacabra caught up to us and brightened the mood, but it was short-lived. Hours and hours of bouldering and slick sheets of rock broke me down mentally.

We made it to Lonesome Lake around four, but decided to push into Lincoln, New Hampshire for the night.

OB and Danno ascertained a vehicle and drove back to the trailhead to pick us up. We ended the night at Chet's Place, a former thru-hiker who opened up his garage to other thru-hikers.

A neighbor was hosting a garden party to benefit the local theatre and invited all the thru-hikers. The party was amazing; open bar, buffet, homemade ice cream, local entertainment, all provided to us for free. At $75 a head, we were extremely grateful for the generosity--well most of us.

We had already returned to Chet's Place when a SOBO hiker punched and knocked out a yellow-blazer at the party. The police showed up at 11:00 p.m. to Chet's Place looking for them and searched the garage and the backyard. A policeman shined his flashlight into our tent, which we then opened to show we weren't harboring anyone.

That finally died down. Long story short, the SOBO jumped the fence and ran off.

Then at midnight a hiker started screaming outside at the top of his lungs. Chet never could locate him, but the next morning we could tell that several tents were gone and a lot of the SOBOs had gotten kicked out.

Never a dull day on the Appalachian Trail.

08-03-13 Together on Mount Moosilauke

Slept in and had a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon and blueberry pancakes. It may seem like we are slacking off now--sleeping in, eating town food--but it was all part of our plan.

The plan was actually to wait for the a.m. showers to pass through before conquering Mount Moosilauke.

At 8:00 a.m. we ventured out and up. Within five minutes on the trail my shoes, socks, gloves and rear end were wet. Oliverian Brook was not kind to me.

This fueled my motivation up the climb, that and not wanting a group of slack-packers to catch me. We summited around 11 a.m. in the wind and the fog. I'm starting to think that's what Katahdin is going to be like for us.

Mount Moosilauke stands 4,802 feet in the air, the summit exposed and up above tree line.

Luckily the clouds rolled in and out so we had a gorgeous view. But with the cloud rolling came the wind and the wind chill so we moseyed back down to tree line.

The descent was slow and rocky. We stopped after 2.3 miles at Beaver Brook Shelter for lunch. The remaining 1.3 miles down to the north base of the mountain were cruel and unusual. We made it safe and sound; my heart skipped a few beats on a few rock slides though.

At the bottom, strategically placed were two gals, one a former thru-hiker named Lady Pants, with trail magic. A welcome sight after a long and brutal hike. Thank you!

As I shoveled hummus into my mouth B reminded me we still had a few more miles to go. Up the trail we had planned to camp on a side trail to Gordon Pond.

Fast-forward several hours later as we continued begrudgingly forward anxiously awaiting the side trail. We finally gave up and plopped down next to the trail. At this point we're not sure if we missed it and are way ahead or if it's still ahead. Only time will tell.

08-02-13 Hikers Welcome Somewhere

This morning we slept in until 6:45 a.m. as we had a light day both in miles (11.5) and terrain.

Aside from water dripping off the trees, breaking down camp was a breeze as the rain had let up in the night.

It was a nice and easy day, and we took it nice and easy. Only a couple minor climbs--Ore Hill and Mount Mist--and road crossings.

At NH 25C, we met up with Sweet Tooth, wife of Molar Man. The last time we saw here was on the Blue Ridge Parkway, many moons ago. She supports her husband's thru-hike, and while she waits for him, offers other hikers sodas and sweets. It is always a joy to see her white vehicle at a crossing.

At NH 25, we hiked east down the road to the "Hikers Welcome Hiker Hostel." Laundry, shower and a bed for the night; can't beat that. B and I are both smushed onto a twin bunk. We are used to it though, as our tent isn't much wider.

The caretaker took us to the "Green House Restaurant." On the menu is an eight pound pizza called the "Moosilauke Monster." If two people eat it within an hour-and-a-half it is free; otherwise, it's $32.00. If you puke inside, it's double. Chuppacabra and Rail Splitter tried their luck but succumbed to the hamburger, bacon, tomato, olive, cheesy, etc heaping mess that it was.

08-01-13 Up on Smarts Mountain Together

Enjoyed a leisurely morning on Bill Ackerly's back porch with NOBOs and SOBOs alike. Shoved off a little after 7:30 a.m.

Vermont was fun, fast and friendly. New Hampshire, however, is posing new challenges. Our first of the day: Smarts Mountain. The climb was a tad shy of four miles, and the last two miles I slogged along at a one mile an hour pace. Frustrating.

B waited for me at the top and had the tent drying from the dew the night before. We climbed the fire tower cautiously, as the wind was whipping making it seem more dangerous than it really was. Once to the top was had 360-degree views--and no fog!

We began the four mile descent down the ridge line which turned out to be quite pleasant. Once we hit the gravel road, it was back up.

At Eastman Ledges, we ate a chicken, tomato sauce and tortilla lunch. We could see the darker clouds rolling in.

We continued climbing and crested Mount Cube with glorious views. I wish we could have spent more time on it, but we could tell something was brewing.

Safely down the ridge we stopped for the night at Brackett Brook minutes before the rain began thundering down. Dinner was a huge chore, boiling water out in the rain in our ponchos. We ate standing up and were happy to return to the tent once it was done.

The rain let up around 8:00 p.m. right as we were drifting off to sleep.