Date: 2008-07-26
From:  I-93, US 3, Franconia Notch

To: Eliza Brook Shelter
Miles today: 8.8
Weather: scattered clouds

It is wonderful to be back on the trail with V8, and to have the privilege to do so with Certain. We decided to start the morning with a breakfast at Peg's, a No. Woodstock institution, so we were there by 6:45, drinking good coffee and starting in on Belgian waffles with real maple syrup. I recommend this place for a yummy breakfast and cheerful waiters.   I had packed up the night before, so had very little to do this morning besides showering and getting odds and ends stowed in the motel office. (thank you, Autumn Breeze Motel).   We took off for the trailhead in the clarity of a new day, which, post-storm, looked very clear, indeed.    NH has its own characteristic look about it, especially around the White Mtn area. Hemlocks and granite, green ferns and mosses, rich black soil... it was so inviting, like a familiar song or book. We pulled into the parking area and took off down a bike path, shortly merging into the AT.    We knew we faced about 7 miles of elevation gain, going from 1500' to almost 4500'. Some of this was gradual, but from Lonesome Lake Hut on up, it was intense. We ran into Kipper, Nobo '08, whose dad, Mr Burns, had broken his leg back at the Lemon Squeezer. Kip had been doing big miles to get to the big K before Aug. 11. It was great to see him again, a face from the Smokies and from Standing Bear farm. That encounter heralded the start of really feeling back with the culture of long distance hiking the trail.   Bama had encouraged me, after I came home in June, to find where my hiking friends were and to join them. In a way, that is what's happening now. I am so glad I waited til I could hike with others, especially Jan, and now Certain.At Lonesome Lake Hut we stopped in to get water and sit a bit, and there was Rabbit from our stay at the Dutch Haus! We caught up with one another, and it pleased me to hear him say that he has been enjoying his hike.    The trail up to No. Kinsman was like a boulder field and a swamp, all stirred into a unique mix. We flew through No. Kinsman without really getting that we had reached its top, and as we were sitting on a lumber pile for a little break, saw Mountain Sailor and friend coming by. I did not recognize him, he was very thin and with a full beard. I soon remembered his very pleasant chat with me when we were at Partnership shelter. I had asked him about the Betamid shelter he was using, an elegant pyramid design I had never seen in real life. He was doing the section today with small packs, taking advantage of the hostel services at Glencliff.   The real exertion of the day came when we had to descend So. Kinsman. It was strenuously steep, requiring a constant control of gravity and balance. I certainly preferred going down this section over having to ascend it, but still, it created tension in my knees and upper back that wasn't there before. It helped to be with a sympathetic group, and we encouraged one another along with jokes, menu ideas, obscure factoids, and other trivia.   Our last section followed the beautiful Eliza Brook, which at times almost brought me to tears. It spilled down the mountain, over moss and rock, sometimes in cascades, sometimes forming deep, stony pools. Sunshine that had been obscured by clouds all afternoon, came back in time to illuminate this waterway. Feathery hemlocks lined the trail then, and made the last mile, despite my fatigue, feel somehow sacred.    Now I am in my tent, watching the evening come by 7:30. The season has advanced in 5 weeks, and the night falls sooner.    How can I say what this means to me? I can imagine most of you know. And I can sleep to the sound of the water in Eliza Brook.   A Swainson's thrush just lit on a tree above my head and sang and sang.Auntie Mame