Date: 2003-08-05
From: Norwich, VT

To: Velvet Rocks Shelter
Miles today: 3.0
Weather: moderate rain

Oh my, what a fine sleep! I woke well after 8 am. When you sleep that hard, you must need it. I stumbled into the Sunset Motel lobby for coffee, juice and pastries. I believe Chief had picked out all the honey buns, which was fine with me. Those babies are vile! These breakfast bars are notoriously short on protein, but hey! I'm in town. I can eat what I want, when I want, as much as I want. There will always be protein. Such is town life. I am back in the land of abundance.The Sunset Motel's white cat sniffed and licked at my pack for such a long time it became embarrassing. I can't smell THAT bad, like a dead thing, can I? It was only later I realized that was the pocket where I'd kept my catnip oil.Our host at the Sunset Motel kindly drives us to campus, where we drop our packs at the Dartmouth Outing Club in Robinson Hall. Then we get dropped back in Norwich, VT.Without hiking sticks or sandwich, without so much as a water bottle, equipped with only a Visa card, we set forth northbound on this very harrowing stretch of the Appalachian Trail. Yes, our feet touch only pavement, and the cars whiz by at life-threatening speeds for the next 1.5 miles into Dartmouth, NH. We pressed gamely on despite great personal danger, and were lucky to escape with our lives.One highlight of the trip was running into Ambler in Norwich. Ambler is German, though he lives in Arlington, VA now. He walked into Hanover with us, and teased my imagination with faraway tales of EuroTrails - stunning peak hikes that wandered hut to hut amongst the Alps, on some of the finest rooftop real estate in God's creation. Imagine hiking the best views of Switzerland, yet coming into a dry bunk, a wash and a hot meal each evening. Mercy! Turn me loose!We three crossed into New Hampshire together, our second-to-the-last state, and the hard work just beginning. The miles will be slower here on in, as the mountains stand up on end. I admit to being a little intimidated by NH's White Mountains, but shoot! I've handled every challenge so far, there is no reason to think I won't rise to this one. It is a new, and comforting, sensation. Isn't "inability to worry" one of the very advanced symptoms?We cross the demarcation line, the Connecticut River. I search for the famous Dartmouth scullers, but see none laboring along the river in this thick heat. We shoot of few pictures along the new bridge with the huge concrete globes. We are in New Hampshire! Can you believe it?We lose Ambler as he sets off in search of hearth-baked pizza. We return to the DOC to check our packs. They (Dartmouth) are kind to hikers, and provide a bulletin board and (slow) internet access. The ALDHA Gathering will be here in October over Columbus weekend. I try to use their free Macs, but they are so slow I want to toss them out the window.I wander over to the main library, where the computers are lightening fast. I catch up on the news. My buddy Skeemer is through the Whites. Wench and Hotdog are just setting off into them. A-Train, our very own baby of Pack 31 (and he would hate the designation), has summitted Katahdin on July 29th! He has completed the AT! I am thrilled! A-Train, you are awesome! I am so proud of this young man. Certainly, it has been a life-altering experience in someone so young (not yet 20). Congratulations, Train! You go, guy!I meet Chief back at Robinson Hall at 3 PM. I send off the last of my pocketmail, saddle up and start out of town. We stop at the post office, where I pick up my fleece pants, cap, gloves and long-sleeved shirt, which I had mailed ahead. I will be needing these in the Whites ahead.I also get a care package from my friends at Hospice back home. As you probably know, one function of my hike is to raise funds for our local Hospice. They've gathered over $11,000 so far. Joan Coleman, my dear volunteer coordinator, has assembled a tasty package of treats: real bacon bits, chocolate mint treats, a card, a list of all donors (THANK YOU!), and a tightly wrapped bottle of red wine! A lovely Shiraz!! Yum! Joan, how did you know?They also send a flag from Hospice, signed. I will carry it up Katahdin on my final ascent and try to get a picture.Unpacking most of the treats takes only a minute. But this is a high-class bottle of wine, and it doesn't have a twist-off cap, if you know what I mean. I'm not about to carry a glass wine bottle for three days, and I can't drink it on the spot. So, I need to decant it in town. I tuck the bottle in my backpack and continue down the Hanover AT to the food co-op. Surely they will have a wine shop.They do, but the woman in the wine department won't open my bottle. "I can't," she says apologetically. "But I can leave this cork remover right here..." She tiptoes away with a conspiratorial wink.Within short order, the cork is removed and the wine decanted into my liter bottle (a Nestles Quik 1-liter Chocolate Milk container, rinsed, with the label removed for lighter weight.) We will drink it at our leisure, at the first shelter above town. For now, it will just have to... breathe. Yeah.Well, shoot, while I am in this food co-op, I ought to use one of the TWO coupons my buddy eArThworm has sent to me - for a FREE pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream. (How does she find these?) I select Toffee Bar Crunch, and bury the pint deep within my pack. I may have also figured "what the hell!," and tucked a few extra crusty rolls, pastries and cheeses into my already-overburdened knapsack.Thus culinarily encumbered, I set off in the stifling heat and humidity, UPHILL out of town, as always, laboring under a full feed bag. Funny how in town, how easy it is to say "oh, one more fresh-baked scone please, one more wheel of cheese, one can of soda, how heavy can that be? I'll just GUT it out, it will be worth it..." and then comes The Reality, chuffing mightily, sweatily, heroically up an ENORMOUS HILL with ungodly weights strapped to your person, self-flagellating with thoughts like "WHAT in the WORLD were you THINKING, woman!?"No matter. We stagger into the Velvet Rocks shelter, a mere 1.5 miles away from the very center of Dartmouth. "I was needing to get away from those Yuppies," said Chief, a southern boy. "And another thing - that town was mighty white!"Shortly after we set up camp, Nick from England hiked up. I was just getting my B&J's out, so we three shared the ice cream and toasted to New Hampshire. After a short and fully appropriate digestion period, we cracked open the fully-breathed Shiraz, and toasted to us standing on Katahdin in 2003. We spend the rest of the eve laughing and taking pictures of a bold little red squirrel who raided Chief's old ramen packets on the cooking stump, quite near us. Nick took 13 film shots alone. At this point, we are easily amused.Thus passed a very pleasant evening.