Date: 2017-07-04
From: Carter Notch Hut

To: Gorham
Miles today: 15.2
Weather: broken clouds

Throughout the day, I watched the look of incomprehension on the faces of the dozen or so sobos I encountered. There was the momentary surprise to encounter their sobo colleague heading in the opposite direction, followed by the mental gymnastics as they tried to work out whether I was going the wrong way or -- the horror -- maybe they were.But once I'd explained that I was doing this section northbound, the conversations reverted to the usual hiker camaraderie in which we caught up on what had happened since we'd last crossed paths. Sometimes the gap had been little more than a day, but other times it would be a week or more since I'd seen some of these people and for many -- such as Beast and Mary Poppins -- there was the acknowledgement that I'd thought they were days ahead. The latest forecast, provided by the AMC hut staff that morning, had been for steadily improving weather, which meant tomorrow was going to be perfectly timed to head into the Presidential range. In the meantime, there were going to be some high winds but otherwise dry conditions.Even better than the forecast was the hut breakfast, which was the perfect start to the day by featuring foods that I know work perfectly for my physiology -- such as porridge and pancakes -- but which I rarely make because of the time/mess/hassle factor. Most of the hut's paying guests were heading to Carter Dome and the rest of the Carters and we left at about the same time. The slightly odd New Jersey guy opted to try to outpace me up the formidable hill directly up Carter Dome from the notch, but the combination of a month of thru-hiker fitness since Katahdin and carrying virtually nothing meant that was never going to be a contest. I left him in the dust.Once on the crest of the ridge, the strong winds made me grateful that the route remained entirely in the trees. Progress slowed a little as the trail quality deteriorated to scrambling down wet granite slabs in the descent towards Imp Shelter, where most of the sobo herd had stayed.But at the start of the final ascent to Mt Moriah, the trail headed straight up a series of sloping bedrock ledges. Spiffy and Littlefoot were descending these just as I arrived and we compared notes on how glad we were to be doing it in dry conditions.Besides the sobos, there were plenty of people out celebrating Independence Day but there was nobody else around as I began the long descent down to Highway 2. The trail gradually became easier, from the familiar stacked boulder staircases, down to the equally recognisable rock and root mazes and then something we hadn't seen for weeks: easy flat trail.Elwood, who'd signed the register at the hut two miles from the road, summed it up when he said the nature of the trail made him question whether he was actually on the AT. Either way, it made for fast progress until I could hear and then see the highway.It took only a few minutes to cross my path from two days before, to keep the continuous line of footprints, and then to get a hitch back to Gorman and The Barn. A similar hiker reunion happened in the hostel, where I saw people like Fern, Gully, Packaged Meat and Nine, who I hadn't seen since before the Mahoosucs. We compared notes on how we'd all fared during the big storm of a few days earlier.My wallet might not agree, but my knees don't hurt in the way they probably would have if I'd done this section with a full pack. Since my philosophy has always been to focus on ensuring I get through the big mountains, ending at the far side of the Whites, with body and enthusiasm intact, financial considerations come a distant second.Life is good. AT fact of the day: There was no chance of an early night on the 4th of July. The fireworks made it sound like Syria, which was an impressive effort for a town of modest size such as Gorham.