Maine, as in The State Of. Well YeeHaw, I made it this far. Crossed the state line, took a lousy-but-requisite picture for crossing my 14th state line on foot. I have 276.9 miles to go, and Im taking a zero today. Mahoosuc Notch (aka the Most Difficult Mile on the AT) is squarely in front of me. I got into camp last night, by the light of my headlamp, set up my tent in spitting rain, and sloshed my way down to the water source for some iced-tea colored water with things floating in it. I did my laundry, which included wringing untold amounts of mud out of my socks, made dinner, and was ready for bed by 10 pm. I forewent the shelter because there were already sleeping hikers in it, which meant two things: 1) I would very likely wake them up as I got ready for bed and I would be tempted to skip dinner so I wouldnt make too much noise (but I really needed dinner); and 2) they would most definitely wake me up in the morning--the sort of hiker sound asleep and snoring by 8:45 pm is the same sort of hiker who gets everything into a pack, eats a granola bar for breakfast, and is on the trail at some crazy hour, like 6 am. I wished to avoid both results. So tent it was. I was happy with my decision, especially this morning when I heard them all depart in the gloom, and I could hang quietly in my cozy tent without having to explain myself. Ill explain myself here, instead. Basically, Im just plain tired. My body is telling me in many ways that its just had enough. I cant sleep enough to take away the tiredness, and I cant eat enough to take away the hunger. I try my best to cover as many miles in a day as possible, but my legs wont move fast enough to get me there before sunset. Yesterday, in particular, was both wonderful and frightful. It was beautiful weather most of the day, as I walked from New Hampshire into Maine. I took two very long breaks on mountain tops where I had cell service, sunshine, warm winds, and no bugs. I took my shoes off and read 50 pages of the Jack Reacher novel that was currently holding my attention. I saw no one up there for two hours, as I ate a delicious lunch that I had packed for myself and assembled on trail (a spinach and artichoke hummus sandwich on a wheat roll with fresh sliced tomato and sautéed onions, a hard-boiled egg, and salted potatoes). Those two, infinitely enjoyable hours in the peace and solitude of a sunny mountaintop in New Hampshire turned out to be the difference in my safety. I had only 10 miles to cover in total that day and had left pretty early and thought I had plenty of time. I did not. I hiked fast first thing out of camp to get to my lunch spot. Then I hiked fast for about two hours afterwards on the strength of that lunch. Then, as usual, I started to bonk. The weather started to turn. It got thunderstorm-dark. The wind picked up. The sky started spitting rain, and thunder started to rumble in the distance. I had about 5 more miles to go to get to camp--up and over 3 separate peaks of the same mountain, all of which went above tree line, and between which were long expanses of flat, rocky, exposed traverses, also above tree line, all the details of which I didnt know ahead of time. I tried to cover the exposed distances quickly, walking very hunched and bent at the waist, keeping my poles low to be less of the tallest thing around and less of an attractant to the lightning that was now flashing all around me. I was scared. Between the open mountain tops and traverses were dips and rises in low, stunted-growth trees that provided a mental break with the illusion of safety. Those respites, though, amounted to rock climbing in spots. And the rocks were now wet and slick. Portions where the trail would normally be difficult frictioning on steeply sloped rock were becoming extreme. There were more areas like there were on Mt. Moosilauke where wooden ladders were bolted into the rock and rebar rungs allowed passage over otherwise-vertical terrain. It was particularly harrowing climbing a long rebar ladder in lightning. Not the smartest thing Ive ever done. I looked for campsites--any level ground, really--where I could possibly stop, but there was nothing safe. The only areas big enough for my tent, and not impossibly sloped, were above the tree line and completely exposed. I would be the tallest thing around and housed under the two aluminum poles of my tent. That would be even dumber than pressing on. When youre used to running and cycling, 5 miles seems like nothing; you could cover that distance easily in minutes, even with hills. After 1,900 miles of evidence to the contrary, I still dont seem to be convinced that I am hiking over difficult, mountainous terrain with a big, heavy pack, and that that distance will, in fact, take Hours! So, when I woke this morning and it was still raining, it was an easy decision to roll right over and go back to sleep. When I woke again a couple of hours later and the sun still was not out in any strength, I thought about trying to cover that Most Difficult Mile, plus the additional still-really-difficult miles to the next shelter. It was late by then. Maybe I could have made it before dark. The rocks were still going to be very wet. That would slow me down. It started to rain again during this decision-making process. Very lightly but rain nonetheless. Some other hikers had shown up at the shelter for lunch by then; I recognized their voices and went over to say Hi. They were continuing on and trying to recruit others to join them. Nope. For all the times I think I can make it to camp before dark and dont, I thought maybe this one time I would not overestimate my ability in the Mahoosuc Notch of all places. Even if its not totally dry tomorrow, at least Ill be well rested enough to tackle it, and Ill leave early. The rest of New Hampshire after Washington was wonderful. That state, though, really does have an issue with the definitions of hiking versus rock climbing, I have to say. The ascent from Pinkham Notch to the Wildcats was something! I was stemming and flagging and frictioning and crimping on tiny nubbins of rock--all moves I had thankfully already learned but with the safety of a rope and harness. I didnt expect to need them on the Appalachian Trail! After perfect weather on the summit of Washington, I continued along the Presidential Range, arriving at Madison Hut after dark. Then the next day, I continued on down to the base, making it to Pinkham Notch ahead of the hail and in time for dinner! There were whole groves of wild berries along the path these past few days. Delicious mountain blueberries and red raspberries. I kept thinking I should put some in a baggie and figure out something to make with them in camp. But as many as I picked, I ate right there. Its still my goal to finish before the end of August, but Im going to have to seriously pick up the daily mileage to make it. Wish me luck.
Posted on: Fri, 08 Aug 2014 15:59:44 +0000
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