Date: 2003-08-20
From: Pinkham Notch

To: Carter Notch Hut
Miles today: 5.9
Weather: fog

Suz (or as Chief calls her, "The High Priestess" of Trail Magic) has laid out another feast for breakfast. We eat croissants and quiche and melon, and a plateful of Paul's bacon and Starbuck's coffee.Little did we know how badly we would need every calorie. Looking back on today, it would remind me of the northern half of the Long Trail. Relentless, rocky, hand-over-hand ups, butt-sliding downs, praying gravity wouldn't carry you past the point of no return... all with 2 liters of water and full food bags...We were well resupplied, thanks to Paul's goodies and Suz's stop yesterday at the grocery store. By the way, when we had walked through the Hannaford parking lot, cars stopped for us, motioning us across. I was surprised, impressed with the courtesy of folks in New Hampshire. I said as much. That may well be, said Suz, smiling, but "You guys walk funny. They think you're handicapped." Oh...After hugs, photos and bunny ears all around, Suz hauls us to the post office and then the Pinkham Notch Visitor's Center, where she abandons us to our mountainous fates.And what a fate! The first .8 miles were deceptively easy, a wander down the rocky flat, along a beautiful, boulder-studded pond. La, la, la, la... We were congratulating ourselves on our good fortune, when the Trail turned upward. It was 10:00 am. "Gondola, 2.0 miles," the sign pointed - up.Three hours later, we had labored up to the top of the first peak of the infamous Wildcat Mountains (Peak E). There was the gondola on top, discharging tourists in sandals with picnic baskets. (Some hikers get an attitude toward tourists, but if I don't see them littering or performing some other "Leave No Trace" aberration, they don't really get under my skin just for existing. In a way, I am a tourist too. I just walked here. Some hikers even get mad because I don't get bothered. But there's enough stuff that DOES bother me, why add to the load by manufacturing a dislike?)What a walk! Whew! This three-hour ascent in particular reminded me of the Long Trail, all rocky, hand-over-hand climbing, up, up, up, up all morning. Relentless. Many, many chin-high step-ups onto the next rock, with heavy pack on back. That'll pump up the quads and calves...We mighty thruhikers averaged a little over .6 miles a hour. About halfway up the slope, we put away one of our hiking poles, strapping it to the pack. We shortened the other. A free hand was the more valuable commodity.We met thruhiker Tater from Idaho on the way up. He's a strong hiker, but contracted the parasite giardia somewhere. He's been on the medicine, Flagyl, for six days now. "You can hear my innards gurgle from a mile away," he said.He's done the longer, Pacific Crest Trail twice. When Chief asked him which Trail was harder, he answered without a second's hesitation: "This one." After lunch at the gondola top, we set out to conquer Peak D, the second top. But it rolled over without a whimper. Piece of cake! La, la, la...Peak C, however, had us begging for mercy. It was a bit stiffer, and by now all those rocky step-ups were taking their toll on our backs and limbs. I am starting to feel the "internal girdle" start to shape up, but it's still more a concept than a reality at this point. I found myself pausing more and more before each high rock, gearing up for that sharp, upward thrust and the subsequent energy toll it took. "Race you to the top," I teased Chief, as he paused, sighing, before a tall step-up."I believe I'll let you win," he replies wearily.By 4 pm, we were beat. Our climbing muscles were worn out. Peak B and now A were behind us. The views had been terrific all day, with mostly blue sky. I didn't mind the hard work, but it was time to rest now. I stopped at a rocky overlook and peered down.It took my breath away.Far, far below - plungingly below - lay two glacial lakes ringed by huge boulders, pristine. Beside them, the stone Carter Notch Hut. Up the other side, the steep ascent to Carter Dome. The scope of it was epic. The landscape below looked like a scene from myth.We walked down the stony, butt-sliding steep, bustyerass steep Trail. Earlier in the morning, Chief has said that if we were feeling frisky, we could walk another seven miles to the Imp campsite. Now, with not quite six miles for the day under our packbelts, we were far from frisky, we were shaky-legged and cooked. There was no question. This was home for the night.We checked into a small bunkroom, six bunks to a room. Sweet! Uncrowded. The stone dining hut was separate. Filled with wooden tales and benches, it was self-serve, which meant you could cook in the kitchen and use their hot water. I spy a large mouse near the refrigerator. Glad I'm sleeping in another building.Near dark, an old friend from Virginia showed up at the hut in the evening. It's Ostrich. It's funny how you can not see someone for nine states then here they are. That's the A.T., a linear culture.He's walked in from Madison hut, and was exhausted. "You know," he observed, "if you'd have told me it would be 2:00 and I'd only walked 8 miles, I'd have laughed. Now I don't even know if I can do 8 miles by dark. I'm losing my confidence." The profile maps don't even tell the whole story - will it be smooth 3mph downhill sailing or ultra-slow bum-sliding, 1mph hand-over-hand? Others wander in: Gazer, Tater and a last-year's SOBO thru-hiker, Smoking Jacket, a really great young man, friendly and open. Chatting, we found we knew a lot of the same people.After choosing a bunk, I crashed and took a pre-dinner nap. Worn out, I was, and after 1,850-plus miles of conditioning. A body had to EARN a spot at this remote hut, it couldn't be bought (although there was another, easier Nineteen-Mile Brook trail access, which I will take next time). Today, our 5.9 miles took a full seven hours. We weren't the only ones agog at this. The Hut register was full of surprise - not to mention groans, chronicled aches and injuries.My hardest day yet on the AT. It has used me up physically. I have been well-used, though, and that is good. It was also nothing I couldn't handle, and that feels GREAT. The Long Trail and the AT to date have prepared me well.