Date: 2017-08-13
From: Rattle River Lodge and Hostel

To: Rattle River Lodge and Hostel
Miles today: 21.2

Good night's sleep in a soft bed at the hostel. I woke in the middle of the night for awhile but am still up by 6. The hostel serves a waffle breakfast and then Jim shuttles three of us back to Pinkham Notch where I stopped yesterday. We will hike 21 miles of the AT back to the hostel. Tao (Dao) is a blond tattooed middle-aged guy with Parkinson's hiking the trail a second time, first time since being diagnosed. His meds helped him cruise the southern half but now it's getting difficult for him. He plugs along steadily the entire day, never breaking as far as I can tell. Marshmallow is a forty-seven-year-old Coloradan raised near Wilkes Barre PA. She went northbound to CT then flipped to Katahdin and is finishing southbound. She and another hiker have cars and exchange keys in the middle of each section so they have mobility each night if needed. I wind up hiking most of the day with her as we have similar paces. The climb up Wildcat E from the road is steep but no tougher than other climbs in the Whites. But it's slow going. We go up and down over Wildcat peaks D, C, and A. D has a ski lift. No one knows what happened to B. Then we drop steeply into Carter Notch where the last AMC hut is located. It rains lightly on and off all morning and early afternoon, so the rocks are wet, then dry, then wet again. A stiff breeze dries them wherever they're exposed. The hut croo just mopped the floor and doesn't seem too interested in selling drinks and snacks to hikers, but I partake anyway. This is the smallest of the huts and it feels cramped. I leave after a few minutes. It's surrounded by two beautiful ponds with the mountains rising above.  Another climb, now to Carter Dome and Mt Hight where we run into many dayhikers coming up a trail from a closer parking area. The sun has come out again and the views are long under mostly cloudy skies. I walk up Carter Dome with Pretty Boy, who was at Lakes of the Clouds Hut. He's from Maryville, Tennessee and just graduated from the University of Tennessee and started hiking from Springer the next day. He and I have similarly aggressive schedules for Maine so we'll likely see each other quite a bit. He's walking because his father was diagnosed with intestinal cancer and he's raising awareness and donations for the MD Andersen center in Houston. He's anxious to finish and return home.Marshmallow and I roller coaster over South, Middle, and North Carter peaks. Then the trail nosedives into another notch. It is full of boulders and difficult, slippery climbs down. We both slip multiple times. I break a trekking pole for the first time on one fall, thankfully landing on my soft rear end. I'm bummed. I really love these poles and they've saved that rear end countless times. Then Marshmallow pulls her arm while steadying on a tree and thinks her rotator cuff might be torn. I give her some ibuprofen to get her through the last 8 miles. There's no faster way out at this point. As if that weren't enough she then breaks her (only) trekking pole. Truly a dangerous section, especially when wet. There's a final climb up Mt Moriah, our tenth named summit of the day. Of course there were at least as many false summits, shoulders of other peaks that due to some arbitrary history were never named. We get more views of the Presidential range and in the other direction far into Maine.The climb down Moriah is not as steep or dangerous but still very hard on the knees. I'm not used to using one pole and I miss the extra cushioning  and stability. For me the hike starts to drag. I'm reaching mental exhaustion, a dangerous place to be when every step needs to be planned. Thankfully the trail improves after we cross Rattle River and the last three or four miles are sandy with minimal rocks. All day I've been under the gun to make it back to the hostel by six for the resupply shuttle to Walmart. I've not enough food to march on into Maine tomorrow. During the Moriah descent it looked like there was no way I'd make it. My pace was averaging under two miles per hour and as of 4:40 there were four miles to go.I walk as fast as the terrain allows. Marshmallow keeps up. Her arm is feeling better. At two miles out there's only twenty minutes left. Gah! No one can hike that fast! I try to call the hostel, but there's no signal. I'll have to hitch, a difficult multi-segment route no doubt. Then we pass a thruhiker that Marshmallow knows from way back in the south. She urges me to press on without her. The trail is so clear that I start to run. My pack jostles but I find plenty of energy. In fact it's exhilarating and my mental fog lifts. I run almost the whole two miles in less than 20 minutes, apologizing as I blow by two thruhikers, teenage twin brothers, I've been leapfrogging for days. I reach the hostel before six and thankfully the van is still there. I have time to scarf down pizza and a beer courtesy of a section hiker who just completed her hike. It literally takes me two bites per slice.Jim drives me and two retired section hikers to Walmart where I bump into half a dozen other thruhikers I know. Out front I look for the van. Orphan Andy invites me to join him and tells me Jim came by asking if he'd seen "3 old guys" around. Must be the white hair! After resupply at Walmart we drive through Burger King for second dinner and stop at two convenience stores where the section hikers fruitlessly search for Dr Pepper. Back at the hostel it's time for a shower, laundry, packing, and repairing my trekking pole. I bought a cheap set of poles at Walmart that would probably break in a few days in Maine, so I cannabalize a section to reinforce the broken section of my pole, already duct taped back together. Guardian, the hostel owner, takes me into the basement of the nineteenth century home to use his hack saw. Amazingly I come out with a serviceable pole. At least, it will be put to the test tomorrow. I give the other pole to Marshmallow. It will fill the gap until she can reach a proper outfitter.Tao comes in while I'm fixing the pole. He was prepared to come up short but made it back well before dark. I also reunite with Juggs, a young guy I first met coming out of Duncannon, PA where he started his hike. We've both been off trail for weeks at various times. Strange how paths cross again and again. And I talk with section hiker Shady, a retired Virginian and Dr. Pepper fan who has only 21 miles left to complete the entire trail after 14 years of working on it - unfortunately it's the section I just did today! He and his Tennessee buddy, who completed his own section hike of the AT in 2013, will do it in three days. Very sensible. Shady is coming back from a bad fall on the Mt Madison descent last year. He was hospitalized and still can't turn his head completely. But he's back at it, undaunted. Such is the draw of the AT.Tomorrow: into Maine!