Date: 2017-07-18
From: Hanover

To: Totman Hill Road
Miles today: 20.0
Weather: broken clouds

Trail magic is defined as the little acts of kindness -- a meal, a cold soda or an offer of accommodation -- provided to hikers from previous hikers or just those in the community who want to do something to make the hiking life a little less burdensome. ("Trail tragic" is the corresponding term when you encounter a cooler to find the hikers before you have completely depleted it) But with the nobos outnumbering the sobos by something between 10:1 to 5:1, large scale trail magic tends to be a phenomenon in the southern states at the height of hiker season between March and May. Notwithstanding the remoteness of the northern AT from major population centres, I've seen my share of acts of kindness: a cosmic brownie with a piece of poetry at Piazza Rock lean to, some apples from a MATC trail maintainer on Chairback Mountain, and a PB&J sandwich from a trail crew in the 100 mile wilderness, to name but a few.Today put all that into perspective, with an array of trail magic that was vast and humbling, ending with an act of kindness orchestrated from, of all places, Abu Dhabi.It began with breakfast at Lou's, an old school diner on Hanover's main street. "Are you a hiker?" the waitress asked. "You get a free donut!"A young woman from a group of college kids sitting at the neighbouring table looked a little shocked, until I explained what was involved to qualify for this act of largesse.The breakfast -- a pesto omlette, with home fries and buckets of coffee -- was exactly what I needed to start the day right.The trail then headed out of town on a sealed road, across the river separating New Hampshire from Vermont, and up through Norwich. At the start of Norwich, there was a cooler marked "Trail magic", containing sodas and chocolate brownies. Even better, the people from the house were just emerging, so I had the chance to thank them in person for their generosity.As I turned onto Elm Street, in the space of half a mile there was a picnic table for hikers to rest, followed a few hundred yards later by a cooler of sodas and fruit (temporarily maintained by Greg while the owners of the property were hiking in the French Alps) and finally another ice-filled cooler with sodas near where the trail returned to the forest. Elm Street might be the setting for a famous cinematic nightmare, but for hikers it's definitely not the one in Norwich, Vermont, unless their personal nightmare revolves around being delayed in making their miles. The trail tread itself was a further kind of trail magic, being flat and fast despite following a ridgeline. The nobos' description of Vermont being rolling hills was one description which was proving to be true.The 10 miles to White River bridge was the fastest I'd travelled since the cruisy trail from Baxter State park to Abol Bridge, but progress there came to a halt in the form of Randy, a resident sitting on his porch offering cold sodas to every hiker that came past. Once enticed onto his porch, he encouraged everyone to jump from the bridge into the river. Most people did.Since I'd announced my plan to hike the AT, Anna, a Vermont woman I knew because she works at NYU Abu Dhabi, had said the trail went within half a mile of her childhood home. Although she'd been home in Pomfret a few weeks earlier, she'd since returned to Abu Dhabi but after hearing I was about to enter Vermont she put me in touch with Cassidy, a childhood friend who lived just 0.2 miles from the trail and who was going hiking in New Zealand later in the year.I'd arranged to come through in mid morning tomorrow, only to learn that Cassidy wouldn't be there. She said her husband, Pete, was renovating a house on the farm and would be happy to host me for a beer and a snack. He'd hiked the AT in 2008.But since the trail had been so fast, I sent a message saying I was trying to get there today in the hope of catching them both and having time to chat, rather than interrupting them at work.It was 3pm when I set off from White River Bridge but the next 10 miles of trail was nearly as fast as the first 10 had been and sometime around 7pm, I emerged onto Totman Hill Road and walked up to the farm.I was lucky that Pete is a bit of a workaholic -- he was turning an old maple syrup boiling shed into a home for him and Cassidy so they could split their time between living there and travelling the world -- because he was still at the farm when I arrived, instead of having driven back to his home down the valley. Given he hadn't received the message that I was arriving early, he greeted me with a warm welcome -- and beer. He then drove home to feed his cat before returning to the farm for the evening to host me.It turned out the AT was just the tip of his hiking accomplishments and he was a triple crowner.It was well past hiker midnight before I crashed out in a spare bedroom. The balance between pain and pleasure on the AT has certainly taken a turn for the better in the last couple of days.Life is good, but particularly when it is a day like today.AT fact of the day: It didn't take long for Pete and I to work out we had several friends in common, such as Grants NM trail angels Hugo and Carole Munn. The hiking world is indeed a small place when it comes down to it.