Date: 2007-08-12
From: Whitewall Mountain, NH

To: Crawford Notch, NH
Miles today: 6.7
Weather: fog

Today is one of the easiest ever. We start out traversing the swampy area to the east of Whitewall Mountain. Part of the way we are still on the old rail bed, but finally it gives out a mile short of Ethan Pond. At the Ethan Pond campsite I am reminded of my 2004 episode with Ballpahk. The remaining 3 miles are on a gentle downgrade, until the last mile (painfully) becomes quite steep. At the hikers¢ parking lot we yogi a ride to the Dry River Campground. This is one of my favorite places to stay. It¢s located right in the center of Crawford Notch, it¢s quiet, it has hot showers and a Laundromat. Pretty close to perfect!What is this? See explanation at August 10, 2007.Tuesday, September 7, 2004, in the White Mountains, Pemigewasset Wilderness, NHThis morning we again have to wait for the guests to eat, after which we have plenty of leftover oatmeal, scrambled eggs and muffins. Before departing our task is to straighten out the blankets on the thirty-six bunks and sweep the floors in the four bunk rooms. We finish the work in about twenty minutes and out the door we go at 8:30 am.Facing us is a hard one-hour hike on the Zealand Ridge Trail, straight up to the South Twin Mountain at elevation 4900 feet. The trail levels off for a while then drops down to the peak of Mt. Guyot at elevation 4560 feet. We¢re above the tree line. The landscape is barren except for low-growing vegetation. The trail flattens out and we start to make some good time. Then we go down, down, forever down to Zealand Falls where we perch on the top of the falls for lunch. We dangle our tired feet in the icy water. Most of the time the downhills are worse than the uphills because of the pounding delivered by every footstep. Carrying thirty pounds of gear on your back doesn¢t help either. Even though the air temperature is 75 degrees, my shirt is soaked. I lay it out on the rocks to dry. We refill our water from the stream, adding the obligatory iodine supplement. After thirty minutes, refreshed as we can be in that limited amount of time, we push on.Five hundred feet down the trail we come to the Zealand Hut. We won¢t be staying here. Instead, we plan to log a few more miles before dark. The view from the front porch is spectacular, down a long valley with some impressive mountains in the distance. The view is toward the south so I know we are not looking at Mt. Washington, which is to the north of us. Even though they are ten miles away, the mountains appear to be enormous.Ahead is a five-mile stretch to Ethan Pond where we plan to stop for the night. We would like to continue the additional three miles to where our van is parked, but we think the steep downgrade from Ethan Pond to the parking lot will preclude completing the hike before dark. April and I agree that hiking these trails by flashlight or headlamp is not something we want to do (although many other thru hikers routinely disagree on this point).Ten minutes after leaving the Zealand Hut we find ourselves on the rail bed of some ancient logging railroad ¢ it¢s beautifully straight and level. The map indicates that the right-of-way goes all the way to Ethan Pond. We start cruising, probably achieving 3 miles per hour, a rather excellent rate. But the roadbed is not perfect. All of the wooden bridges that used to exist a hundred years ago are now just washed out gullies. After three miles of easy going the trail inexplicably turns off the rail bed and follows a meandering course through boggy lowlands. We walk the last two miles through a rain forest. The humidity is 100% even though it¢s not raining.At 5:30 p.m. we finally reach Ethan Pond. We are not impressed by the view of the water. A little further along we come to the shelter (lean-to) and find that one hiker has already claimed a sleeping spot. We remove our backpacks while we contemplate staying in the shelter or perhaps selecting one of the adjacent tent platforms. Neither choice seems appealing ¢ I wish that we could finish the remaining three miles to our van, but it¢s already well into dusk. I estimate that the trip would take at least two hours. We¢d never get there before dark. It would be a dangerous undertaking.Then from behind the shelter appears the caretaker, one very personable ¢Ballpahk¢ (sic) an avowed Red Sox fan from Haverhill, Massachusetts. April relates the sad story about her injury and how she¢s now two weeks behind schedule. She is not sure she can reach Katahdin in time! ¢BALONEY!¢ spurts Ballpahk, ¢you can do it! Just suck it up and go!¢ He estimates that she can easily finish in early October, just before the snow starts to fall up north. (Ballpahk had thru hiked the trail a few years ago, so he had first-hand experience.) April is encouraged by this assessment. With this new enthusiasm, we then ask if it is possible for us to hike the three miles out to our van tonight. (While talking with Ballpahk we had gone another fifteen minutes into twilight. It was now 6 pm. From previous days¢ hikes I estimated that usable light would be gone by 7:30 and all light would be gone by 8:00. Could we still do it?)¢No problem,¢ exclaims Ballpahk. He has made the trip dozens of times and knows that it takes exactly 75 minutes. He¢ll allow us an extra 5 minutes for April¢s less-than-perfect ankle. Eighty minutes, that¢s our challenge tonight. We can¢t believe the short time Ballpahk says it takes to travel the three miles. We decide to take the dare anyway.At 6:05 we head out. Amazingly, the entire first mile is laid out as a new, smooth boardwalk through the bogs. We really fly! Into the second mile we continue on a slight downgrade, through mud and small rocks, but nothing difficult. By 7:00 we are into the last mile. Light is fading fast. The down hill gets steeper as we approach the bottom of the hillside. Fortunately there are few rocks to stumble over. The trail is relentless in its downward direction. Our feet are numb because of the speed we¢re maintaining. Assuming this jaunt is not Ballpahk¢s cruel hoax to leave us stranded in the woods, my watch tells me we are within 10 minutes of our goal. We really have no idea where we are except that we¢ve been careful not to lose the A.T. in the encroaching darkness. Finally, with 5 minutes to go in the challenge we come to the railroad tracks which we positively know are near the end. And presto, one minute later we pop out into the parking lot. We¢re overjoyed with our success, and best of all, after three days parked in the woods, our van has not been stolen.A time check shows it took us 78 minutes. Seems that April¢s ankle was worth only a 3 minute penalty, not 5 as Ballpahk had guessed. Ballpahk mentioned that if we didn¢t complete the hike in the time he prescribed, we were to leave a note on his jeep (parked in the same lot) telling him that he was a BIG FAT LIAR! Well, he didn¢t receive that note, but we did leave him one thanking him for his superb timing. Now we had only to motor about two miles down the paved road to a real campground with a real shower and a real Laundromat. For a thru hiker, this is as good as it gets (that is, having a night off the trail to do some civilized car camping).We get to the campground after five minutes¢ travel on the road. We finish off some snacks and a bottle of wine that had been strategically stashed in the van. With a clear sky overhead we blissfully fade away. Little do we know that fast approaching weather will soon pose a hiking challenge beyond anything we have ever envisioned.