Date: 2013-09-03
From: Rental house in Glen, NH, Crawford Notch

To: Lakes of the Clouds
Miles today: 11.2

Omigoodness, it was a short night last night. I didn't finish the journal entries until midnight or a little after. I knew we wanted to get an early start, and I didn't have anything packed. So I got up at 6:00, and Anita had already made a perfect pot of coffee. I love this woman. We were packed in the car (literally and figuratively) by 8:30, and we headed to the local Subway to grab a sandwich for lunch. The kid behind the sandwich counter was talking conspiracy theories about the Boston marathon bombing and the crisis in Syria. It was way too early in the morning to be having this heavy of a conversation. Hobo and I just kept our heads down and asked for extra spicy mustard. We headed to Crawford Notch and took a series of mocking photos; my "hip pop" seemed to be a popular choice. We hugged Anita and thanked her again. Then we started to climb. The early part of the climb wasn't too bad. It was steep, but the trail was "walkable." But then we started our scramble. It took a while for the six of us to make it up some of the rock faces, some of which were as much as 20 ft, so you didn't want someone directly in front of you should they topple off. We stopped at Webster Cliffs for a snack break. We realized that we weren't as far along as we'd thought. We conti used on another 45 minutes and stopped for lunch. Two buzzards and a falcon were soaring and fighting in the air BELOW us. There were high clouds, but for the most part we had excellent views. We could see Wiley Pond below us, and we were so high that you could see clear to its brown bottom. We followed along the stoney cliffs that were Webster Cliffs. Each quarter mile left us a little more in awe than the quarter before. The rocks were plenty wet from the day before, but I didn't hesitate for a moment to sit down on my booty if the situation called for it. The mountains rose ever higher around us, and the more we climbed the more we realized we were in the company of giants. The trees grew shorter and shorter, and we spent a significant amount of time gazing easily over their heads. The air smelled so sweetly of balsam that I couldn't help but think of cotton candy.Once we reached the top of Webster we played the guessing game trying to figure out which peak was which. We saw our trail far below us (a boardwalk) traversing a marshy area, probably a half mile away. By now we were getting tired. We crossed over Mt Jackson and headed to the Mizpah Hut. We refilled our water, and I ate a muffin and coffee cake (the huts often have baked goods and soup (all made in house) for sale during the day). It was 4:20, and we'd only gone 6.4 miles. Our goal, Lakes of the Clouds hut) was till 4.9 miles away. We decided to go for it. There was a little climb, but then the trail evened out. There were still some scrambles, but by now we were back above treeline. We could easily see the big, legendary peaks. Eisnehower's big, bald top (was that intentional?), rock cairns lining the trailside to guide the hiker in foggy weather, sun rays so precise I wondered if down below someone had just had a profound apphifeney (SIC), wispy fickle clouds, and a more tremendous photo op at every turn. Today was the perfect day for this hike. I was so grateful to have my hiking partners to share it all with.The difficult is finding the right words (I'm not sure they really exist) to described what I saw. The yellow light that changed to pink. The ridges with millions of trees and fractured light that changed as quickly as a turn of a kaleidoscope. Massive mountains that stood right before you one second and magically disappeared behind a cloud of smoke the next. Not even David Copperfield could pull off such a feat. Vistas that extended for hundreds of miles. Rock cairns that stood like works of art. A trail that changed moods quicker than I. Dense sturdy vegetation that's hundreds of years old. Green ground covering that makes the whole ground surface look like a green-gray brain. And we had the whole place to ourselves. The Labor Day weekend crowds seemed to have washed away with the rain. As we got about 2 miles from the hut a dense cloud blew in and didn't let up.sudden gusts of wind knocked me a few steps off the trail. As it got foggier and darker, we stuck closer together. I'm not sure if the sun had gone down or if it was blocked by the sense fog. The having grew steadily darker, and our 100-mile visibility reduced to about 50 ft. And though there was little place to get lost, I grew more concerned that we'd taken the wrong trail. Thankfully, we passed some signposts, and then we were just able to make out the profile of the roof line of the hut. It was almost dark. We hoped to goodness that they would let us all stay. Bay wolf counted our numbers as we filed through the front door. We were cold and wet from the misty cloud. The expression on his face didn't give us much hope. Six is a pretty hefty number for a hut to try to absorb. It looked iffy for us, but thankfully the croo relented. We all got work-for-stay (WFS). There were already several others there (Tangy, Dr Who, Walking Stick, Clinker, Wander woman & Clark Kent). The croo fed us well; I'm pretty sure they cleaned out their fridge of leftovers (lasagna, salad, chicken of some sort,soup, roasted corn, peas,break, baked goods). Then I got the task of de-icing the freezer and inventorying its contents. I really can't believe how well this day has turned out. I had an extraodinary hike; perhaps my best day yet. The forecast is great for tomorrow, so hopefully we should be able to see something from Mt Washington. Right now the wind is howling, and the dense fog hasn't lifted in the least. I'm beyond thrilled to have a little sliver of dining room to lay out my bed roll.