Date: 2014-08-05
From: Past Kinsman

To: Hanover
Miles today: 140.0
Weather: broken clouds

So I don't have my actual journal in front of me, so I'm going to do my best to recollect my time from Lincoln to Hanover. It perhaps won't be as detailed, but I should be able to get the gist of it.7/30: Despite the rainless night, in the morning at Chet's everything was still damp. It was a step up from the status of 'soaked' earlier, but not optimal. Nonetheless Chicken Fat, The Kid and I got breakfast then walked a mile out to US 3 for a hitch to the trailhead. It was by far the hardest hitch I have had, as we stood by the side of the road for 30 minutes, thumbs up and cars driving by with no evidence that they had even seen us. Finally, two young ladies who had 'borrowed' their parents car picked us up, as they were simply driving around bored looking for adventure. And what is more adventurous then picking up three homeless looking strangers?They dropped us off about a mile away from the trailhead at a visitor center, so by the time we were hiking on the AT again it was already 1:00 PM, and we had 10 miles to do over Kinsman. Thankfully the hike went easy, so we made great time to the last pay shelter. There we ran back into Brew and Boone, who decided to call it a day there. Chicken Fat, The Kid and I decided we had enough daylight to push the last 4-5 miles over the mountain to a free shelter, so at 7:30 that night we arrived at Eliza Brooks Shelter (packed with NoBo's; we were officially entering 'the bubble') and passed out on the wooden planks.7/31: The day started off ambitiously. Even though the threat of rain and thunderstorms loomed over us, we decided that 16 miles over Moosilauke was possible. Hiking by 7:30, the first four miles proved to be extremely similar to many of the sections of Maine. Thus, they were difficult, yet we made our way though with no complaints. Rain tapered in and out throughout the day, making our eventual climb over Moosilauke (regarded as probably the steepest climb of the entire trail for SoBo's) extremely time consuming and dangerous. With storm clouds gathering, I decided to call it a day near the top of Moosilauke at Beaver Brook Shelter, as I HATE hiking in the rain. While Chicken Fat and The Kid may have continued on, Brew, Boone, Wolfburger and Splash all were able to catch up to me in the shelter, and I spent the night swapping stories and playing card games with them.8/1: So there is a tradition of sorts, that I believe is called 'The Southern Belle Challenge'; to summit the southern-most White Mountain (Moosilauke; Cube and Smarts don't count, they are essentially roadbumps) in a dress. Although I did not pick up a dress in Lincoln, there just happened to be a random towel in the shelter that we all stayed at. In a complete breach of the laws of fashion, hygiene and practicality, we were able to create a makeshift dress out of the towel and some spare fabric from Brew's dress for me to summit Moosilauke in. I looked like some sort of horrible combination of Barney Rubble and typical hiker trash at the top, but the excitement of the experience overrode any sort of embarrassment I could've possibly felt.On the northern end of Moosilauke we hiked into Glencliff, a small town with a hikers hostel, and got a ride into Warren, where Wolfburger and I decided to try out a local food challenge: the Moosilauke Monster. 9 pounds of pizza, 9,000 calories, 90 minutes, between two people. No vomiting, using the restroom or going outside. The owner of the hostel explained it perfectly: the first slice is amazing, the second slice is pretty good, the third slice is alright, and the final slice costs 16 dollars. On the fourth slice Wolfburger threw up, ending our attempt at the pizza, although I'm pretty happy he did, as I felt like I was dying at the end. Even me, a thru-hiker who can eat enough that I earned a secondary trail name as 'Nibbler', could not finish that gigantic abomination of mankind.Through the discomfort, I hiked back to the trail with the others, and we camped on a snowmobile trail, playing cards and celebrating our triumphant victory over the White Mountain National Forest.8/2: There isn't really much to say about this day, because it went by so quickly. The terrain got EXTREMELY easy after Moosilauke, as if there was an obvious border saying 'Here is where the Whites start'. At several sections I was doing four miles an hour, which is extremely fast hiking. At 3:45 I arrived at Hexacuba shelter 15 miles in, declining to go another five over Smarts Mountain and do a 20, and waited for the others to show up (which they all did). Hexacuba was an interesting shelter, as it was 6 sided with two open walls and had a privy called the 'penta-privy' that simply had an pentagram on the front. I wish there was more to say about this day, but I essentially just started hiking and tunnel-visioned my way through it all.8/3: I left Hexacuba late in the morning and eventually made my way up to the top of Smarts Mountain, where a shelter/cabin that smelled like pee and trash sat in all of it's 'splendor'. There I waited for the others to summit, got stung by a wasp three times (painful for about 15 minutes, then subsided into a simple tightness in my calves) and followed them down another seven miles to the home of Bill Ackerly, AKA The Ice Cream Man.For eleven years Bill has lived along side the trail, giving free ice-cream sandwiches to any hiker that may want one. Last year he had 1,200 hikers come by, and is already at 600 for this year. He is a trail angel in every sense of the word, and a great man to boot. That night we all camped out behind his house, playing croquet until 9:30 at night (well past 'hiker midnight') and enjoying luxuries of ice cream, soda and chips/salsa.8/4: Brief rain greeted us in the early morning, waking all of us up in time to get onto the trail by 8:30. A few 'mountains' did nothing to really slow me down, and I propelled myself up them quickly (it got SOOO much easier after the Whites). At the top of one of the mountains I stopped for lunch, swapped stories with some NoBo's, and hiked on the next 9.5 miles with Wolfburger. Down the gentle slopes of this terrain we found ourselves practically jogging, doing 3-4 miles per hour consistently. I ended up paying for the speed though, and came crashing down on some muddy rocks after loosing my footing. No serious injuries thankfully, but the bruising of my knee grew to become quite a discomfort for the rest of the day. 17 miles in we arrived at our shelter (with a water source .5 miles away from the shelter itself. Ridiculous!) just a mile outside of Hanover. Brew and Wolfburger went into town to get some non-trail food, and once again we all sat in the shelter, playing a game of 31 and laughing away our tired knees.8/5: Now I am here in Hanover, with New Hampshire practically done. Hanover is a pretty amazing town, with lots of cafe's that give free food to hikers. I will be taking a zero day here in hopes that I will be able to knock out some college applications, and perhaps enjoy the luxuries that towns offer.With the two hardest states of the trail behind me, my odds of climbing Springer in one season are now apparently a bit above 50%. If the trail stays this easy I can't imagine that it would take me longer than mid December, and I may even be done by Thanksgiving (especially if I decide to aquablaze in Virginia).There's a strange sort of power that comes with coming this far. It shows itself to me whenever I look at the mileage I have done that day, or perhaps see pictures of friends back home doing day-hikes. Yet strangely, it is matched by an equally powerful force of anxiety at times; at the bottom of a small mountain, I still feel as if this mountain will be hell to climb, and that it will be the one to crush any sort of confidence in my hiking ability. Of course it has yet to happen, and hopefully will not, but it's presence is there.Then there is also the fact that I have no idea what I'm truly going to be doing after I finish. School is the most definitive and attractive option, yet I have no clear major I want to pursue.This kind of far-reaching planning and anxiety is something I believe to be relatively unhealthy. Thus, my goals as of right now are1.) Get college apps done and sent off, then pushed out of my mind2.) Climb Killington, perhaps watch sunrise/sunset from the peak3.) Get through Vermont with hopefully at least one twenty mile day under my beltMost importantly, I want to (and will) keep on walking, keep on experiencing, and keep on living. As my calves become steel and my hair runs long, I meander ever south and to whatever this crazy, crazy trail may throw at me.Except rain. Screw hiking in the rain.