Date: 2003-07-26
From: VT 11/30

To: Bromely Peak Warming hut
Miles today: 2.7

Oh, what a sleep! I wake late in this cozy room, the latest yet, 8:30 am. Ha! Itchy would be busting a gut waiting for me to come out.The mattress is so comfortable - quite firm but not hard on the old hipbones - that I actually track Anne down to ask what kind it is. Yes, the Martha in me strikes again. (For the record, it was a Sealy Posturepedic "Tealstone.") It's a Good Thing, it is.Breakfast is sumptuous. A heroic plate of scrambled eggs finds its way to my place, followed by large sausages and thick, meaty Vermont bacon. After coffee and OJ, a huge blueberry pancake tamps it all down. A hiker could walk somewhere on that. After, Anne and Dave very kindly let me on the Internet, and Aeran and Keirdan help me navigate. I glean all sorts of news.I learned from Pack 31-er A-Train's journal that he is in Monson, ME thundering into the 100-Mile Wilderness - only 114 miles from the finish. Fellow Pack 31-er Subman actually summited July 22 - way to go Subman! Yahoo! The first of Pack 31 to finish the entire Appalachian Trail. You win the prize, Subman - slackpacking the rest of Pack 31 to Katahdin.I hear from Skeemer, who has been holed up in Hanover, NH due to rain. He is poised to ascend the treacherous White Mountains: "I'd like to start the Presidentials tomorrow but it is an all-day climb and they are calling for 50% chance of rain. I'll probably go if it's not raining in the morning," he writes.He also shares news of our buddy Mule: "...he had salmonella with the giardia... ran 103+ temp for 3 days. He is returning to the Trail soon. Kid has more guts than me."I spend a lazy afternoon writing postcards, napping, journaling. Anne wakes me at 3:30, and I pack up my gear. I feel a little sad leaving this place, it is so homey and friendly. Anne drives me to a local deli where I order what turns out to be a huge smoked turkey sandwich. I plan to lug it up the mountain and enjoy it in all its red-oniony, mustardy glory. At the Trailhead, Anne and I hugged good-bye. I liked her. I knew that if we lived in the same town, we would be buddies. Perhaps our paths will meet again. I can certainly recommend the hospitable Alpenrose Inn highly.Up the mountain to Bromley Peak, puff, puff. Within minutes, I am soaked with sweat, though the day is now cool. There goes the shower - I don't know why I bother, other than it feels so fantastic to take one. "A quasi-religious experience," is how thru-hiker friend Sloetoe puts it. Eventually, the Trail grows steeper, and I exit the woods onto a ski slope. Last year I saw a bobcat flash between the runs. No cat this year, though I was watchful. The wind picks up on the treeless slopes, drying my shirt. At the top, the sign tells me this killer slope is a Green Circle - the easiest. I've just busted a gut on the bunny slope! Inside the warming hut at the top, the hiker Eric is journaling and greets me. We chat a bit, and he tells me the weather for the next couple of days will be sweet. Yes! We need a little sunshine.It's near sunset now, so I grab my raincoat and camera and leave chores till later. I climb the observation tower to catch the setting sun.The wind has an animal force up here, with no trees or even mountains, really, to block it. I try to steel myself for the relentless blow above treeline in The Whites. But for now, safe in my observation tower, I actually enjoy the knock of it. It's like being on a beach before a storm. After snapping a dozen pictures, I lay back on the bench and just let it buffet me until the sun drops below the far ridge. On top, a young man with a red bandana bounds up. His name is Squirrel Meat, because a squirrel nibbled on him during the 100-mile Wilderness, southbounding. He doesn't stay though. He has his eye on Manchester food.When I return to the hut, Eric asks if I want some coffee. After a nap today, I'd better not ingest caffeine or I'll never sleep. So he gives me some hot water for peppermint tea. My friend eArThworm had just sent me a batch, along with a lot of other carefully chosen goodies. Now, it warms my belly as well as my heart.The door flies open and three folks blow in. There is Poncho and the Doberman Sage, doing a long section. The two University of Vermont girls Molly and Mikahala are doing the Long Trail.I learn from reading the register that Notes is running out of food and money, so he must push on to Clarendon. So, he is now ahead of me.It is like a vacation cabin up here on the mountain top. The wind is screaming around the corners of the hut, and we are snug inside. I'm glad I tarried long enough to spend the night here.