Date: 2003-08-25
From: Full Goose Shelter

To: Grafton Notch
Miles today: 9.7
Weather: light rain

My photo support guy, Ken, has put up more pictures. Check backward and check them out. Thanks, Ken!Also, Turnbill sent me this link to the photos he took on our hike over the Goose Eyes with Nellie the border collie:http://projects.northgeo.com/mahoosucs/Now for:Today, I walked over the 1,900 mile mark. My poor feet! Ha! What have I DONE?Everyone gets up early in the morning chill, excited. Today, we are going to see what all the fuss is really about. We are going through Mahoosuc Notch, billed as "the toughest mile on the Appalachian Trail."Competent, young hiker Ostrich is a little nervous. People have been talking up The Notch. Normally a solo operation (because he's so swift),Ostrich wants to go through The Notch with another hiker. He and Gazer team up.We thruhikers begin gathering at the south end of The Notch, a mile and a half from Full Goose shelter. There's an intersection with a 2-mile trail there that leads to the outside world. Chief had been just behind us, but he was gone for a good 10 minutes. Where had he disappeared to?Eventually, he wanders up that other Trail to us, from an unexpected direction. "I got lost going to the bathroom," he explained sheepishly. "I got turned around. Now I got to go back in the woods and find my pack."Before he does, he wanders a few feet down the Trail ahead and peers into the Notch. "Shoot, that doesn't look so bad," said Chief."Chief says it don't look bad," quotes Ostrich. "Mark those words."As we are sitting there, up strides a hiker in a beret from the other trail. "Bonjour!" he calls out heartily. "How can I help you today?"It is Bear, co-proprietor with wife Honey of The Cabin hostel in Andover. By prior arrangement, Bear was meeting me and Chief to relieve us of our packs. Later that day, he would pick us up and take us back to The Cabin for a shower and a roast beef dinner."What do you need?" booms out Bear. "A sherpa?""Sherpa one!" he barks, and out of the woods skips... a fellow in tie-died long-johns and a purple clown wig. Could it be... No! Not Deja Vu in that get-up?! Too funny!"Sherpa Two!" commands Bear. Out skips a second man, in an outrageously plaid jacket and a moose hat. Ha! It's... Zapman! Bear had brought them along to be our pack-bearers, and they had really gotten into the act. Thanks, guys, for the laughs. The other hikers didn't have a clue as to what was going on.Burdened now only with daypacks, we start into The Notch. The temperature immediately drops 10 degrees. They say there are even ice patches under some of those rocks and crevices, but I didn't see it. I did hear running water gurgling underground at several spots, though. When I filled up my water bottle, it was icy.The Mahoosuc Notch is a natural wonder, a magical place like none other I have seen. It is a narrow gorge filled with dump-truck-sized boulders that have cleaved and fallen over the eons from the rocky cliffs above. The Notch is choked with these huge chunks of stone, and the AT clambers over - and under - a goodly number of these behemoths on its way north. It's another mythic place, with dripping water, gigantic scale and thick moss oozing off the mountainsides. Very Lord of the Rings-ish. "Hiking" The Notch becomes an exercise in innovation. We put one hiking stick up so as to have a free hand: we shorten the other pole. Many times we must rely on small trees that have wedged themselves into cracks for handholds, to boost ourselves up; other times, we hug the trunks and gamely swing out into space, pirouetting like ballet dancers, ending up face forward. Or we balance our entire person on a tiny pinnacle of rock as we search for the next secure foothold. Or squeeze under a 20-ton boulder. A wrong step could mean a busted limb, or worse. It's a stony jungle gym, and we are mountain monkeys.As the already-fit Ostrich navigates one particularly impressive stretch-and-step-up, he comments: "You'll be able to bounce a roll of quarters off my butt when I get done with this!" It requires all of our muscles to navigate, especially the one between our ears. It is an utter KICK!We hopped, crawled, boosted, slithered, stepped up, stepped down, straddled, stretched, wriggled, swung, hugged, scrunched, butt-slid, slung, unslung, ducked, squeezed, chinned-up, lowered down. At one point, we come upon Gazer's rump and legs kicking away from underneath a boulder. He was crawling under a massive rock with his pack on, and got stuck. Of course, I must take pictures; we loudly discuss our various tickle-torture options. Gazer squawks and kicks through.There is lots here I don't know if I could have done if the Trail hadn't prepped me for 1900 miles. It's tough, and requires full concentration - but it's nothing we aren't ready to handle. I am a little surprised to see I am enjoying myself immensely.Three-quarters of the way thru The Notch, the overcast skies began to drizzle. Our hearts sank. This mega-rock slinging was a genuine rush - but with wet stone it would become a slippery, treacherous chore. Only traction made it fun. We managed to get though The Notch before the rocks became too wet. Total time, an hour and a half, with many stops for pictures and laughter. The rain came down harder now, so we put on our rain gear. Thankfully, it was short-lived, but now the bare rocks were wet. And we still had to climb the infamous Mahoosuc Arm.The terrain after The Notch took a sharp, steep incline. As a climb, it rated with Wildcat for me, though Chief felt Wildcat was harder. Still, with "only a 1200 ft ascent, it walked like it was damn twice that."There was lots of slab crawling, very steep. Pucker-factor high, due to the damp and slick. I was grateful near the top when the breezes dried the rock.Eventually, we came to the bare Arm, and walked up that to the shoulder of the mountain. We stopped for a snack break in what I suppose you could call the armpit.I ate the last Fig Newton in my bag. This would be the first time ever, in 1900 miles, that I would come into town with an empty food bag. You always carry too much food, even when you know it... it's a primal thing, I guess.We get down the mountain and in the parking lot meet Thumbkin, a pleasant SOBO. She's waiting for a ride to The Cabin as well. The red truck pulls in and there's DejaVu behind the wheel, with Songbird.They take us to the general store in Andover, where we reload on junk food for tomorrow's hike. Andover is a very hiker-friendly town, everyone has a smile for us, it seems.Which is what makes this next story such a tragic one. It seems that a few days ago, a local woman - a single mother of three teenagers, working as a waitress - befriended a hiker. She gave him a place to stay. Her purse left when the SOBO left. To make matters worse, she'd just taken $500 from the bank to put down on a more reliable car, and that was in the purse. Word went out immediately. The hikers rallied, cleaning up after themselves. We passed the hat around town, and as of this writing the woman has gotten more back than she lost. In addition, the alert spread like wildfire along the Trail, as hostel owners and hikers network. It is a linear community, and the SOBO will find doors closed to him all along the Trail henceforth. It is worth noting, future thruhikers, that word of bad behavior is telegraphed in both directions. There is no hiding.Dinner at The Cabin is served family-style, and we had a full house this night. Willy Seay, Tadpole, Hover, Big Red, Strappy, Sparky and Zapman, Songbird and DejaVu, Gutsy and Honey and Bear filled the table. Honey is an absolute dear, and we hit it off right away. She cooks the equivalent of Thanksgiving dinner every night during hiking season. An avid trekker, she still hikes at least once a week and has hiked half the AT. Once, on a 1991 thruhike of Maine, her sister broke her arm just 10 miles short of Baxter State Park, the endpoint. After getting her to town to have it set, Honey then boosted her sister up Katahdin three weeks later.I ate to the point of pain. Roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, cooked carrots, green salad, turkey soup, bread, apple crisp and ice cream, plus a bottle of red wine. Anyone who leaves here hungry isn't trying.This is a absolutely lovely hostel, almost like a home (it is), and I feel very comfortable. As I was the last one in and the bunkhouse is full, I have been stashed in the guestroom upstairs. Very comfortable.Hmmm, I suspect this place will be like Kincorra - hard to leave.