Date: 2013-08-26
From: Hikers Welcome Hostel, NH 25

To: Stealth camp @ Kinsman Notch, NH 112
Miles today: 9.3

I got up early and headed for the coffee pot. My wet mattress was little competition compared to a hot, freshly brewed caffeinated beverage. I headed across the street to the post office and collected my maildrops. I sorted food and repacked my pack. I reboxed the extra food and took it back to the post office to bounce it a few days up the trail. Hobo and Becca soon arrived. He told us that he'd changed his mind about slack packing that day, and he would head out with us when we headed out. I'm so happy to have him as a hiking partner. Becca finally managed to get us all loaded in the car, and we were about to pull out of the driveway when Legion came rushing out of the door with a phone in his hand. He said he had a call for Whirled Peas. I eyed the phone suspiciously. I took the phone from his hand and said, hello. I heard Tom's voice coming from the receiver. He'd tracked me down, found the phone number for the hostel and called. I burst into tears. I was so happy and yet so distraught. I wanted to talk with him, but I had a car full of people waiting for me. Ahhh!!! I rushed back to the car and told them they could go, just hide my pack in the edge of the woods. They wouldn't hear of it. Instead, Hobo brought me a handful of tissues and placed them on the ground in front of me and told me to take as much time as I needed. I squatted down in the gravel driveway and laughed and cried as we talked. Omigoodness, do I miss him. He told me that there is a good chance that he'll be able to hike the last few days with me. Yeah! It was so hard to say good-bye, neither of us wanted to hang up. I promised to call him as soon as I could. I walked back to the car, and there wasn't a dry eye to be seen.It was 10 a.m. by the time Becca dropped us back at the trail. We hugged and took photos. Then we headed into the woods. Immediately, I walked upon a steep drop off into a wide stream. Whoa. Where did the trail go? We rock hopped across the river and then enjoyed several miles of flat trail walking. And then the climbing started. It was steep and long, but Hobo and I just chatted away. It went fast, even though for the next two hours we did nothing but climb. We encountered a section hiker who said that the other side was steep, rocky and super slick. He recommended that we stop at the shelter just after the peak and attempt the decent the next morning when the rocks had time to dry. Hmmmm.... We were hiking in a cloud, and my eye lashes were tipped with tiny water droplets. We hiked for another 20 to 30 mins. The cloud got thicker and the trees got shorter. We stopped for lunch, and several of our fellow NOBOs who'd been at the hostel the night before were slack packing backwards. They'd just ascended what we were soon to descend. We asked their opinions, was it safe? They all answered similarly, that it was steep and slick, but it was also well within our capabilities. I jokingly asked Thunderfoot if were were to fall, would we fall to our deaths or would we just get a few scrapes. He answered that we'd most likely break a bone. Hobo and I chewed on it for a moment. After lunch, Pressure-D, Kathy, Hobo and I put on our rain jackets and headed along the ridge line. The soupy, thick fog limited our view to only 15 or 20 ft. There were small side trails, and we wondered if we were missing the summit. We followed along the path past giant rock cairns that stood head-high, and finally we came upon a sign post. It looked like the one we'd seen in several earlier NOBOs' photos, except rather that being framed by bluebird skies and wispy clouds, it had a distinctly more Hitchcock feel. We crawled over piles of nub-nosed boulders. The wind howled and threatened to steal the hat from my head. We took photos of each other with huge smiles on our faces, Mt Moosilauke was beneath our feet. We continued down the trail, and soon we found ourselves back below treeline. The wind disappeared, and our body temperatures shot up. We all started shedding layers. The descent was steep and rocky. We stopped at the turn off for the shelter to confer with each other. Do we stop now and do the last 1.5 miles tomorrow morning in hopes that the rocks will be drier? Or do we take it slow and brave the descent. Sweetpea & Oaks came off the shelter's side trail. Sweetpea declared that she felt inspired by New Hampshire's state motto as seen on the license plates: Live Free or Die! We howled. Live free it would be! So down we went. It WAS steep. It WAS rocky. It WAS wet. It WAS slick. But it wasn't terrible. It wasn't the life-threatening drop-off that we'd imagined. There was rebar handles and steps embedded in some rock faces. There were impressive wooden steps that clung to almost vertical rock faces seemingly like magic. I did a lot of booty scooting. I'm a shameless booty-scooter. We made it all the way to the bottom, and right as the trail started to mellow out, I took my fall. There was a slick rock slab, and two seconds before I thought, wow, that looks slick. Next thing I know, my right foot shoots out from under me. I fell hard towards the left, and stuck my left hand out to catch myself. My left foot shot straight out in front of me, and I landed hard on my left butt check. With arms and legs spread wide, I slid to the bottom of the rock face on my butt. It happened so fast. I looked down at my hand. No scratches and barely any dirt. Hobo asked if I was okay. I laughed and said, yep. I'm so grateful to have strong, solid bones and a cushy booty to break my fall. The last mile followed along a beautiful flume. The water curved and carved and cascaded and rushed over rocks and limbs. It pooled and channeled and slid and dropped all the way to the bottom of the mountain. Once we got to the bottom, I looked at my watch in disbelief. I couldn't believe how long it had taken us, 8.5 hrs to go 9.3 miles. I was tired, but I didn't feel "beat up" like I normally do after a day of hiking. We had done a tough climb and descent, but it didn't take the same toll on my body that high mileage days do. It was a full-body hiking sort of day rather than a lower-body hiking sort of day.We found a campsite near the road. Sweetpea and Oaks backtracked to the site, which made me feel even better about our choice. They hadn't found anything farther on so they came back. They told us about some trail magic a few yards up the trail near a parking area. I scored a bag of cheese puffs which I ate in two seconds. I had planned to take a swim in nearby Beaver Pond, but it was so boggy that I couldn't get to it without losing a shoe. My feet kept sinking down into the muck, so I settled for an ice cold creek bath. Two Germans- PeeWee German and Snaps-joined us. Pressure-D built an awesome fire, and we sat around it and talked and laughed until it got dark. I'm so relieved and proud to have my first big "White Mountains" climb behind me. It's been a great confidence booster, and to have done it in slick, wet conditions to boot. Hopefully the weather will be better in the days to come. So, 'twas a good day!