Date: 2017-07-03
From: Jeffers Brook Shelter, NH

To: Stealth camp before Mt Wolf, NH
Miles today: 10.8
Weather: light rain

By 7:06 I was on the way up the 3,500 feet to the top of the first of the infamous and dreaded White Mountains, Mt Moosilauke, whose summit is at 4,802 feet. The climb was simply tough. There was of course water still coursing down and lots of mud. But the sun was shining above the trees. Initially the main obstacle was tree roots. While I was dealing with them, I met Medicine Man, whom I'd last seen back in the rocky state when I was with Rooster and Co. A lady called Birk came up while I was snacking and recognized me from when somebody pointed me out to her in the Irish pub in the Inn at Long Trail in Vermont.  There were SOBOs and day hikers coming down the trail too; it being the day before the July 4th holiday means there are lots of day-hikers out.After a while the roots gave way to rocks as the main obstacle. But it was all good, just requiring one foot going in front of another. At the summit, which was above the treeline, I caught up with Crazy Horse and Two Decades. It was windy and cold so I rushed off as soon as a photo of me was in the bag. The descent from the summit, especially after the Beaver Brook shelter, was very hard. There were boulders rather than rocks, some steep stretches down bare rock that the ATC had equipped with wooden steps, rebar to hang onto, or had drilled steps out of the bare rock. In one short stretch after the shelter, I slipped and fell three times. The second fall happened when my right-hand pole went down into a hole I hadn't seen between two rocks and I pitched forward, snapping the pole into three pieces. I was able to find a branch to use as a substitute and made my way gingerly down the rest of the descent. I stopped by some waterfalls for lunch and was passed by all the gang I'd seen on the trail all day. I found most of them again at some trail magic by the Lost River Road, hosted by Jon, husband to X-ray who is hiking the trail. They live in Boston not too far from our apartment there. Jon gave Malink, Chef Boyardee and me a lift into the town of Lincoln, where I bought a cheap replacement pole. I went to a McDonalds for a burger and to charge my phone. While I was there I called my wife and updated my trail journal for yesterday. At about 6pm I headed out to hitch the 6 miles back to the trail. I thought it best to hike until I was past the turnoff onto the interstate and soon after that got a lift with Jeff, a survival instructor with the Navy at the Maine Maritime Institute. He does a lot of hiking and his poles were in the trunk from a hike he'd done over the weekend. Even though he was only going a mile up the road, he was kind enough to take me the almost six miles back to the AT. I was between two minds whether to camp out near the Lost River Road parking lot, or take a chance on hiking further on the trail and finding a stealth campsite. I opted to hike. I was soon caught by two fast-moving young men, Caveman and Bumblebee. I noticed as Caveman was hurtling by that he had a prosthetic leg. He told me he'd lost the leg due to a medical condition when he was a child. I went about three miles before I watered up and found a little dell off-trail through some large rocks. There was just enough space to put my tent down, and a good tree branch to hang my food bag from. (I chose not to do any cooking as I'd eaten at the Golden Arches.) I've passed the 1,800-mile mark, another 100-mile milestone. I will only be doing that three more times on the trail. Hard to believe. I am high up in the hills at almost 3,000 feet, and well placed to attack the climbs to Mt Wolf and Kinsman Mtn. tomorrow morning. Jeff said that the terrain is quite decent on Kinsman but he admitted that he hadn't hiked the descent I'll be doing. All will be revealed soon enough. Tipperary