Date: 2016-06-24
From: Galehead Hut

To: Saco River, Crawford Notch
Miles today: 14.8

I was awoken by the hutmaster telling me they were going to start breakfast setup, and i needed to move my stuff. I slept well, and clearly longer than nowa or wonka, because of my earplugs. Wonka had already gone, and NOWA left pretty quickly, foregoing breakfast. Me, I sat around. I played more guitar out on the porch while I waited for the guests to finish up breakfast. When they had finished, I grabbed food, and was quickly joined by a cohort from Garfield Shelter, Roller, Rob and White Rabbit. As I finished, I asked what my WFS would entail, and quickly learned that WFS is a funny thing in the whites. I was going to remake all 43 beds in the place and sweep out each of the bunkrooms. It was a lot of work, and involved a lot of standing on the death-defying ladders up to the four-high top bunks of the rooms. While my friends moved along, I was stuck sweeping until 9:45. Blugh.i was incredibly antsy and a little bit frustrated, and I used that to power up the near-vertical climb of South Twin. I passed both Large and Roller on the way up, and they both told me I looked like a man on a mission. The exertion helped me cool down emotionally, and I took a short break at the top for a picture with the presidential range behind me. I passed and chatted with trippin' bily as we summited the Guyot Spur, and he explained how the last time he was here he headed a mile out along the ridge before realizing he'd lost the AT. the trail does go to some amazing mountains, including Bondcliff, maybe the most picturesque summit in the whites. For next time. At the behest of a few section hikers, i took a short side trail to the wooded and boring summit of Zealand mountain, because it's very hard to get to except on multi-day trips, in case I ever want all the 4000 footers in the whites. Further down the Zeacliff trail, I found Dill, sporting some new clothes from her package in Hanover. She had not taken a day off since, but had ended up hitching into Lincoln with Wonka (on the highway I might add) on the day of that terrible rainstorm. We paused at Zeacliff, a wonderful lookout ledge with wonderful views across to Mt. Willey and the presidentials. From there I could see the strangely flat and open section of trail we'd be walking later in the day, as it skirts around the Willey range.From there, the trail dropped steadily down to Zealand Falls Hut. Again I have to laugh at the sort of terrain which is readily becoming normal but would be simply unheard of down South on the trail. At the Hut, I found Cosmo, Roller, White Rabbit and the bears waiting and eating lunch. Having heard about two dollar bottomless soup at the huts, i went inside, and indeed found that to be the case! I ate about four bowls of soup, and was very happy. We ate out by a roaring stream that flows right next to the shelter.Also, wanting to continue my streak, I asked if the hut had a guitar, and Indeed they did, but it was missing a string. And so i continued my streak of also fixing up a guitar that had something wrong with it. I played for a while and let the others go ahead of me, a soaked my feet for a time in the river. After a short descent, the trail flattens from the Hut to Ethan pond, in one of the most reasonable sections of the whole trail in new hampshire. There were still boulders, but the walking was not tiring, and I pushed at a good pace to catch up to everybody, which I did at the turn off for Ethan Pond campsite. I took a break with Cosmo, Rob and Claire at the turnoff.White Rabbit reluctantly decided to stay here and wait for Large, reluctantly especially because of a hiker named honey badger whom she was sure was headed here and would insist on playing his plastic trumpet again, which had kept everyone up at Garfield last night. Rob and I paced each other down to Crawford Notch, on one of the most gentle pieces of trail I've seen in a long time. We pulled into the trailhead parking lot and made our way across the road, which I had driven about four years ago when I led a group of twelve-year-olds on a multi-day excursion to the whites. This is the last road I would cross where I had driven previously. We made our way down to the Saco river with the intention of stealth camping. A big sign there said "NO CAMPING." But we also found dill there, in a prime tent spot. We didn't want to move on, and people had clearly tented here time and time again. I went searching for some more spots downriver, which there were, but inferior to the ones right next to the trail. Honestly, we figured, the sign is more geared for locals who would throw parties and camp out and leave trash. We promised to pick up after ourselves and say a few Hail Marys. Claire soon showed up, as did NOWA and Cosmo, who set up downriver. We set up three tents in a surprisingly efficient manner and cooked dinner. It was a very nice night, and full of togetherness and camaraderie. We are getting so lucky with the weather, and New Hampshire is spectacular.