Date: 2008-09-07
To: Meeting Cookie Monster
Miles today: 0.0

      I knew we would be woken up with a guitar. We watched the croo practice in the kitchen the night before. I didn¢t recognize the song and thought they had made it up at the time. But it turned out to be ¢New Slang¢ by the Shins. It sounded so pretty in the morning, but some tired patron kept shutting the door to block out the sound, which made me sad. Once gathered at the table for breakfast, we learned that the weather would only be getting worse as the day progressed. We had planned to walk seven miles along the exposed alpine ridge to the Madison tenting platforms. Our compatriots thought we were crazy! Not only would we be exposed to all of the bad weather, but we had only a single person shelter for the two of us. I knew the thru-hikers don¢t have a choice, so I wanted to stick with our plan, knowing I would have to endure a lot of harsh weather, if I were to really do this. Everyone else in the hut planned to get off the mountain by the easiest route possible. We finally caved, and decided to do the same.       We bundled up and planned to head down Tuckerman¢s Ravine. The volunteers advised us otherwise, however. They thought Boott Spur would be the safer route, so we stepped out and looked for signs to Camel trail, which lead to Boott Spur. In the minute it took Erik to check out the signpost towards our right, we were soaked! The wind was strong, and the visibility was maybe a couple of feet. We opened the door to the hut to make sure of the direction and then we were off! I felt like Edmund Hillary. Because everyone who stayed at the hut was in the same situation, I felt energized by the camaraderie. It became fun and exciting, even! I felt more alive than I had in a long time. Two guys were coming up behind us, but they didn¢t want to pass us, and I felt proud at keeping a good distance between us. Soon, we encountered the dog, Lucy, again, with her owner and his friend. They checked with us about the direction to the hut, so I pointed out the way. I decided to do the same, to make sure we were on track, and they directed us to our path. It wasn¢t until at least 1/2 hour later, that I realized we were on the wrong path! We were headed for the Glen Boulder trail! Some help those guys were! I thought we could continue down that trail for the remainder of the way, but Erik didn¢t think that was a good idea, not knowing how steep it was. So, we trudged back uphill, fighting through the wind.       We finally saw the sign we had been looking for and took a quick break so Erik could put on his wool sweater. He had gotten very chilled. It was at this time that the storm clouds began to part, and we began to see the rocky landscape around us, which was quite pretty. Finally, we were back on Boott Spur, and headed down the mountain. We passed two families that we had already passed before we took the wrong turn. ¢Didn¢t we already see you guys?¢ ¢Yeah, we just took a little detour to give you a chance to beat us,¢ I responded. We all played leapfrog for awhile while we took breaks to change clothing or eat snacks. At one point, I spotted some tiny blueberries growing on the path and decided to taste one. It was the sweetest blueberry I have ever tasted! It was bursting with flavor, belying its tiny size. The sun shone down, and we couldn¢t believe the contrast to the morning. Towards our left, we saw a cloud funnel sinking down Tuckerman¢s Ravine, and we knew we had made a good decision to take this path. The end of the Boott Spur path converged with Tuckerman¢s, and we walked the last mile in familiar territory. Two young guys were headed up to Mt. Washington at that time. One of them had watched the clouds clear out on the weather channel and called up his buddy, thinking it would be a great day to climb Mt. Washington. I warned them that it took a few hours to climb to the summit, but they were confident they could get up and back down before dark. The friend was puffing away on a cigarette.         We climbed the stairs to the waterfall and met a couple who were just starting to get into hiking. They took us as ¢experts¢ because of our large packs and asked us a couple of questions. Another gentlemen at the bottom of the trail wanted to know how long it would take to reach the Hermit lake shelter. Erik said that they were all looking to me for advice!        We reached the Pinkham Notch Visitor¢s Center a little after two and sat on the porch benches to soak up the sun. Not long afterwards, a single backpacker came up the steps, asked us, ¢How¢s it hangin¢?¢, dropped his pack and stepped inside. His goal was to get his Leki trekking pole fixed. He came back out with a Snickers bar and we found out he was a thru-hiker by the name of Cookie Monster. He was very positive and friendly and showed us the video he shot of himself that morning in the hurricane conditions on Mount Madison. I told him I was trying to decide if I wanted to hike the whole trail, but was leaning toward no. He encouraged me to give it a try, and that there was no shame in doing only part of the trail. He said that it was never meant to be hiked in one stretch, and that some people find what they were looking for before they reached Maine. He encouraged me to do a walk-about (that was the first time I had heard that word) and that there were shorter trails such as the Long Trail and the John Muir trail that I could do if I didn¢t want to take a six month trek. He told us that he was going to take a couple of months to decompress after he finished the AT, and if he was still directionless, he would hike the PCT. Talking with him had renewed my interest in hiking the AT.        As he went over to the picnic tables for a late lunch, we brought our packs over to my car, and went inside the visitor¢s center to find out where we could camp nearby. Who happened to be at the counter, picking up a package and asking about rides into Gorham, but Kelly and John! I offered to drive them to Gorham, as we didn¢t have any immediate plans, and we got to ask them more about their hike. We dropped them off at a hiker¢s motel, and decided to head back to Joe Dodge Lodge instead of hiking to a campsite. That way, we could dry out our boots, and continue our tradition of spending a night in the lodge. I opted out of a shower, though, because I wanted to be like a thru-hiker, and was trying for a record of four days without one.