Date: 2017-08-15
From: Full Goose Shelter

To: The Cabin hostel
Miles today: 20.0

I wake in the middle of the night and force myself to get up and look for stars. But clouds have come through. By dawn they yield to clear skies again.Today is my 44th birthday. I can't think of a better gift right now then being on the trail. I'll celebrate the day by tackling Mahoosuc Notch early this morning. It promises to be a long day. I want to get to Andover in time for dinner at The Cabin hostel, highly recommended by Marshmallow and Seadog. But I'm to learn that some of the toughest terrain of the entire AT stands in the way. Pretty Boy calls the hostel to reserve a bunk. When they find out where he is they tell him "You'll never make it! We'll see you tomorrow!"Can't say no one warned us.The approach to Mahoosuc Notch is typical of the last two days - steep hills, rocky, rooty, muddy, bouldery. Then it gets far, far worse. Mahoosuc Notch is filled with bus-sized boulders piled at odd angles. There is no "trail", just a few blazes indicating a rough direction. You need to use your head to pick the right path for you. Hop across the boulders, go under (in the mud), squeeze between, bushwhack around, cling to a tree and swing around (hoping it holds and doesn't drop you in the crevasse below). You decide. I only felt like I was going to die a few times. That seemed about average. This goes on for a full mile. I bang my left knee into rock over and over. My trekking pole keeps getting in the way of handholds, but sometimes it's indispensable. It takes me 75 minutes to get through one mile. Again, close to average. Some take 4 to 6 hours. It's amazing tens of thousands of people have completed this at all. Still, it's exciting and challenging and one of the highlights of the trail. You know you're alive when you're forced to contemplate with every step how to keep it that way.Exhausted and thirsty after the Notch I am immediately confronted by the Mahoosuc Arm, a steep 1600 foot climb over rocks and boulders. Normally this wouldn't be too bad, it's not even the highest continuous ascent in the last few days, but coming in exhausted I have to take frequent breaks. By the time I reach the top I'm almost out of water and am rationing it until I reach a stream at the bottom. There are great views here and on the sister and higher summit Old Speck, but now I'm so thirsty I'm keeping myself going with the slim hope that there's a soda machine in Grafton Notch state park at the bottom of the mountain. The terrain along the ridge continues to be very tough. The descent is even worse. My knees, hips, ankles, and soles of my feet are repeatedly jolted. My body is tired from tensing as I inch down slabs of rock at angles I could easily slide off. The trekking poles get a workout stabilizing, supporting, cushioning, and helping me down from ledges. Finally, after almost 2500 feet of vertical drop the trail relents and eases into Grafton Notch. I stop at a stream to quench my thirst. I am still bone-weary and plan to lunch in the notch.Then the most wonderful thing happens. Trail magic! I have never needed it more. Cold sodas and chips! Like the trail knew it was my birthday! Actually it's retired North Carolina hiker Yolo and his wife, up here slackpacking the 100 Mile Wilderness (apparently it can be done with logging roads). They gave trail magic in the most remote section of the 100 Mile Wilderness last week and said some hikers were so happy they cried. I suck down three Cokes in no time and hold myself back to leave some for others. But there aren't many thruhikers today. A couple southbounders come through and we swap terrain info and stories. A woman section hiker is trying to finish up Maine, with her husband along for moral support. The Kid and his brother show up. The brother twisted his ankle badly stepping in deep mud and they are getting a shuttle to a clinic. Regretfully I leave them all behind. I have ten miles to go and it's already past two.The trail going up Baldpate is far easier than that to the south. It's mostly packed dirt with few rocks and roots. Is the terrain so different or did trail maintainers clean it up? But as I reach the Alpine zone the trail becomes pure bedrock. In fact West Baldpate is mostly just exposed bedrock for the last few hundred feet of elevation, hence the name. Walking up the bedrock at up to a ridiculous 45 degree angle is almost surreal. There is nothing like it in the Whites. You feel like you could slide or roll back hundreds of yards if your footing gives way. Dingo, an Australian girl, and her boyfriend appear over the inflection point of the slope like pack mules coming out of a canyon. The views are long and clear from so high above treeline. The descent from West Baldpate has me white-knuckling the trekking poles for 1500 vertical feet. The trail is almost entirely bedrock at ridiculous angles. If it were wet it would be a slide. In fact a thundershower has rolled through here a half hour earlier, but it's dried out quickly.Again I've run out of water climbing Baldpate, first day I've ever run out of water and it happens twice. By now it's too late to get to the hostel for dinner. Pretty Boy is well ahead and is heading for the same hostel. He will call for pickup and wait for me at the road. He texts me when he's called them; fortunately I'm at the top of a hill and have service. Unfortunately he's a full hour ahead. We had expected 20 minutes. So I start rushing downhill. It's 4 miles to the road. There's no service at the road so I can't update him on my progress. Fortunately the trail suddenly becomes leafy and mostly clear. I can almost run it. But then the clear sky gives way to another thundershower. It lasts almost an hour. I go as fast as Mother Nature will allow. I make it down in 80 minutes and the truck is still there. Hopper, the driver, said she was going to leave in just six minutes if I hadn't appeared. We stop at the General Store and gas station, the only places open at this time in the sleepy town of Andover, so Pretty Boy can resupply. I take the opportunity to stock up on cold teas and get first dinner. I did not have a big lunch what with all the rushing. At the hostel, which is in the lovely cabin style home of septuagenarian hikers Bear and Honey, Honey brings out the dinner leftovers - a huge pan of Shepherd's Pie and corn on the cob. We eat in their dining room surrounded by neat pine woodwork, a contrast to the dingy surroundings of most hostels.Honey, a curly-white-haired Norman Rockwell version of a country grandma complete with apron, has a grown grandchild and 13-year-old great-grandchild living on the property. She's been hiking all her life. She hiked the Mahoosuc Notch not too many years ago. They've hosted hikers since they bought and renovated the house over 20 years ago. They've hiked much of the AT and even some of the PCT. They are well known and loved in the hiking world. Hopper, no relation of Bear and Honey, is a Virginian and perennial section hiker. She comes up every summer to stay with them and help them run the hostel. She proudly calls herself a section hiker. She has never thruhiked, technically. She "section-hiked" 2140 miles of the trail in 2014, then completed it the next year. She's also completely section-hiked the trail two other times. There are three other thruhikers staying here tonight. One is Floater (her sleeping pad floats in heavy rain), a girl who's been here three weeks recovering from Lyme disease. She didn't show symptoms for a month and by then it required stronger treatment than doxycycline. She's doing better now and will likely complete her hike this year. Tomorrow I'm considering taking my first zero after the beating my body has received over the last ten days. But I will more likely slackpack what I'm told are an easy ten miles to the other side of Andover, return here for the night, and head to Rangeley the following day.