Date: 2014-08-13
From: Imp Campsite mile 306.3

To: Nineteen Mile Brook Trail, Carter Notch Hut mile 3
Miles today: 7.2
Weather: scattered clouds

As anticipated today was a miserable day for hiking. It rained all day leaving streams and puddles in the trail and making the rocks slick. Despite being as cautious as possible I fell a few times. On one fall my face slammed into a tree when I landed leaving me with a cut lip and a gash on my cheek. The wind blew strongly making me cold even with the heat my body generated from hiking. The bad weather kept folks off the trail. I did no see any other hiker all day. On the positive side the day was short and my cuts are not significant injuries. I got to the hut just a little before three. Although the climbs and descents were demanding and the wet rocks were slick, most of the time I had secure flat places to place my foot and I felt relatively safe compared to some of the Maine rock scrambles where the footholds were rounded or slanted. The wind was cold and strong, but there were only a few places where the trail was exposed to it directly. Most of the trail was sheltered from the wind by vegetation even along the ridges. The Carter Notch Hut is a delightful rustic facility with an enthusiastic staff of young croo members who went out of their way to be helpful. As soon as I changed into dry clothes they fed me a couple of bowls of delicious hot soup topped off with moist apple cake. After a nap under my bunk's thick wool blankets supper was equally delicious. Although the hut has a capacity of around 40, only seven others were staying here tonight, so I have a four bunk room all to myself which gives me room to spread out my ear and let it dry a little in the humid air. All the other folks at the hut are day hikers most of whom come to the huts to hike on a regular basis. One fellow has been here seven days hiking all the trails near the hut. Part of the croo's assigned responsibilities is visitor education; so after supper one of the girls presented a lesson in weather patterns in the White Mountains. Although I was focused on watching my step and getting to my destination where I could get out of the cold and rain, I tried to remember Nathan's admonition to enjoy the beauty I was passing through. The lush greens of the vegetation and mosses along the trail were beautiful in the misty morning light. One of the perks of the trail is having a constant stream of new audiences with whom to share the stories I love to tell. May Louise has heard all my stories and does not like listening to them again; so she discourages me from telling them when she is around. The hikers in the shelter last night included two folks from the Boston area; so I told them the Boston Public Library statue story. One of the fellows thanked me for the tale this morning explaining that he was anxious to get back home and share it with friends there. My boots, hiking clothes and gear will still be damp in the morning, but if it stops raining the six mile hike to the Joe Dodge Lodge at Pinkham Notch should not be too bad. At 2:00 am it is still sprinkling outside. Thank goodness for my pee bottle. The toilet is Ina separate building up a soggy, rock strewn trail from the bunkhouse where my room is. I would hate to have to put on damp boots and rain gear three or four times during the night to walk there. Early In Moby Dick Ishmael describes he and Queequeg comfortably smoking in bed in an inn wrapped on their blankets listening to a winter storm roar outside. He explains how in a luxurious situation like that you need to keep some small part of your body out from under the covers so that you have a point of reference to let you fully appreciate how warm and comfortable you really are. A maxim of the Appalachian Trail hike is to "Hike your own hike,". One part of the meaning of that phrase is to decide for yourself how "pure" you want your hike to be. On the sog through the rain today I came to a point where the official trail climbed to the top of a socked in summit and a second trail wrapped around the edge of the summit making the distance to the hut a half mile shorter. My purity standard left me quite comfortable taking the shorter route. The owner of the Sterling Inn told the story of an extreme purist who was determined to walk past every white blaze. When he came to the canoe crossing he arrived just after the ferryman had quit for the day. He was about to turn back to the nearest campsite and cross in the morning when a lady canoeing on the River offered to take him across. Several miles further up the trail he learned that the "official" canoe has a white blaze painted on its bottom. He turned around and went back to the river to cross it again in the canoe with a blaze.I just realized that although I do not have a mirror I can use the selfie feature on my iPad camera to see the cut on my face and the sores on my shoulders. The cut is more prominent than I thought. The cut on the inside of my lower lip looks worse and is a little sore and swollen. The pack strap wounds on my shoulders look much improved. Oh the wonders of technology.