Date: 2015-07-27
From: Hikers Welcome Hostel, NH

To: 1,799.6 campsite, NH
Miles today: 9.1

Believe it or not I finally hit the trail today, albeit not for many miles. I jokes to the guys that we should relax for half of the day and shoot for a shelter ~7 miles away on the far side of Mt. Moosilauke. They laughed as they showeres me with the usual compliments: funniest guy on trail, nicest hair, a man among boys, the Packers are #1, etc. (Hint: only 1 of those statements is accurate.) Little did we all know was the fact that we'd only put in ~2 miles farther than that.Before we left, a local reporter from one of the news channels stopped in to interview the man running the hostel, asking about the hostel, hikers, and all things trail-related. Yoohoo and I sat and listened and provided a little information as well. If she ends up using any of our stuff in her story, I'll be sure to post a link. Soon after she left, Rabbit arrived and we managed to talk him out of staying there for the night and instead continuing with us. He agreed, but only after first squeezing in a shower. We finally returned to the trail at 11:45am and would begin the ~3,800ft climb over the first ~5.5 miles to the summit of Mt. Moosilauke and the start of the White's.The first couple of miles were gradual through low lying woods as well as a stretch along High Street, void of white blazes. Unsure of where to go, I followed a small trail off the road, over a small wooden footbridge, and up a small hill into an old graveyard dotted with aged headstones. I quickly realized this wasn't the trail, grabbed a picture, and returned to the road. I found the trail returning into the woods a couple hundred yards farther up the road.The trail became noticeably steeper after entering the woods and passing through a small clearing, Mt. Moosilauke towering several thousand feet above, the summit mainly hidden under the lowest reaches of a towering gray cloud hanging above. The sun would soon make an appearance, though, gradually melting away the clouds as we fell into line like ants slowly making our way up the colossal mound. It didn't take long before my clothes were soaked and sweat poured off me. Sweat gathered along my mustache and would fly off every few seconds after releasing a hard breath. With me leading and gradually losing the pack, I soon stopped at a spring flowing across the trail and decided it'd be stupid not to drink water. As I drank the cold water, Huey, Rabbit, and Yoohoo would gradually stagger in and join. Moments before we continued on, Moosehead popped into view followed closely by General Burnsides who I haven't seen since the last couple days of June. We exchanged fist bumps and a few pleasantries, but I was soon pushing on with the majority of the mountain still looming overhead.Over slick rocks and exposed roots, I gradually pulled away from the Pack again before it was just me huffing and puffing alone, the surrounding terrain seeming to slowly shrink around me. I've been told for months that the White's don't believe in switchbacks and it's close to straight up and down mountains - it's no exaggeration. At what felt like a snail's pace, I finally reached a sign hidden among spruce trees pointing to a side trail leading to the south peak. In what felt like noticeably more than the .1 off trail that the sign advertised, I eventually made my way to the exposed, rocky summit just above treeline. Here I enjoyed the peak to myself as well as the 360-degrees of views including the terrain well below me, Mt. Moosilauke summit in the near distance, and the colossal White's leaking through the distant haze. I could only think one thing: Wow. Not only will my time in the White's be along mountains and ridges above treeline (a good or bad thing depending on weather,) but the sheer height of what's to come means a daily ass-kicking for sure.I continued back to the trail where I ran into Huey and Burnsides and the 3 of us covered the final half mile and few hundred vertical feet to the summit of Mt. Moosilauke. A simple wooden sign lists the height of the peak at 4,802ft, the first 4,000-footer since north-central Virginia. A couple days from now will bring our first 5,000-footer since the Smokies. The mountains are most definitely real again. As we stood at the summit, scattered with exposed rock, boulders, cairns, and walls of stacked rock to aid hikers during high winds or inclement weather, it felt like we had returned to the top of the world. That is, of course, until we took in the size of the White's - the presidential range in particular culminating at Mt. Washington, the second highest point on the trail - and we were brought back down to Earth a bit. The next several hundred miles will be our greatest physical and mental test of the journey and not a coast into the finish line.Moosehead, Yoohoo, and Rabbit would eventually catch up as well and we'd spend the next ~2 hours sitting amongst the stacked rocks, escaping what little wind was present. Although clouds rolled along nearby, shrouding some of the higher peaks in the distance, our peak remained drenched in sun the entire time and we'd enjoy one of the best relaxing periods we've had on the trail. It felt like we were WWII soldiers, sitting amongst destroyed rubble, as we ate our lunch, kicked off our shoes, and enjoyed the warmth of the sun. After the battle we had endured in reaching the top, it felt like a small victory. The only negative part of the day came in the form of a really upset stomach as I sat on the exposed summit, meaning bad news. I quickly shuffled off to a small cluster of spruce bushes and passed what had the color and consistency of coffee. Fortunately I was able to pull back some grass like you would a piece of turf and fold it back down afterwards, hiding the massacre that had just taken place. After a couple hours, we decided we were going to call it a short day after descending the steep north side of the mountain and off we slowly went.The ~3 mile trek down would take us down one of the steepest stretches yet, definitely not recommended for a casual day hike. The going was slow and steady as maneuvering over and around wet boulders insured that we were cautious. I ate itmat one point, but fell into a relatively rock-free area between boulders and escaped any kind of pain or injury. Considering the surrounding trail, I felt lucky to avoid doing so. The only real positive about the slow, ~2 hour trek down was that the trail followed along a beautiful cascading waterfall the entire way down. In some areas the water rushed with force, continuing its slow gouging out of the mountain over the past thousands of years, and in other sections the water flowed peacefully and would've made for a great shower on a day with temperatures exceeding 100 degrees. The cool thing is that we filled up on water in this very stream just below the summit, a mere trickle, are currently camping feet away from its slow flowing waters, yet in between a series of beautiful waterfalls make you stop in awe.As Rabbit and I reached our stealth campsite, a SoBo named Xena joined us. Yoohoo and Huey would arrive soon after. Our tents are set up closely in the limited space, the trickle of the now small creek fills the air, and we've all retired to our tents with full bellies. Xena is a cute, cool chick and it's too bad she's heading south. She would've fit in nicely with the likes of the USS Bennington. Tomorrows plan calls for ~16 miles into Franconia Notch where Burnsides invited everyone to stay the night at his family's cabin where we can enjoy good food, cold beer, warm showers, and the opportunity to resupply. It'll definitely make the crumbyness of tomorrow's stretch (According to Xena) more bearable.I want to brag on Burnsides, though, for not only inviting me to the cabin after being separated for the past few weeks, but also the guys I've been with since, a couple he hadn't even met before today. He dropped the comment, "Any friend of Cambo's is a friend of mine'" and I believe that it was abojtmas genuine as it gets. The "second" return of the General might just be the best thing to happen on the trail since Bob Peoples installed all the switchbacks leading up Roan Mountain.The morning calls for an early start, beginning with an ~800ft climb out of Kinsman Notch and culminating with a ~2,000ft climb up Kinsman Mountain before gradually dropping into Franconia Notch. It's just after 10:00pm and time for bed.Here's to a beautiful first day in the White's, hitting the 1,800-mile mark tomorrow morning, and a great lunch with great company atop Mt. Moosilauke.*Also, thank you Mark for the encouraging words. If I can help one person learn something new about the trail, I consider that a win. Joe Dirt packs a lot of truth in his simple way of putting things.