Date: 2004-09-05
From: Whitewall Mountain

To: Hiking with Will 
Miles today: 13.7

This morning, I lowered my food sack from the limb of a tree, untied the cord it was attached to, and began pulling the rest of the chord from over the limb. The end of the cord became stuck on the limb. I could not free up the end and had to sever the cord near the ground. There is now a thirty foot chord hanging permanently from a limb. I have enough cord for future bear lines. The incident demonstrates how often little problems can crop up.I hiked for several hours toward the highway at Crawford Notch, NH. There were long stretches of trail that were relatively flat, providing some relief to my knees. During this stretch, I scanned the woods for a new walking stick. I found one with a slight bend at one end which would provide an ergonomic grip when descending mountains. Whenever I select a new walking stick, I shove the end between a couple of trunks and snap off a few inches of the stick in order to size it to a length of my choosing. This process often causes the shaft of the stick to break elsewhere along its length, rendering it unusable. This time, the stick broke at the correct spot. After hiking with it, I decided to trim a couple of more inches off the bottom. While standing on a pair of parallel boards placed over a mucky spot on the trail, I shoved the tip of the stick in the narrow space between the boards and bent it. Again, the shaft of the stick broke where I wanted it to. This walking stick is longer than the one it replaces. It will provide me with a longer reach to the ground, a useful feature when descending mountains. I am using two wooden walking sticks.Late in the morning, I reached the trailhead at the highway where there were two parking lots. Will Connery, a friend from back home, was supposed to meet me there and hike with me for part of the day. I did not see him there, so I penned him a couple of notes and placed them on message boards. I hitchhiked a mile up the highway to The Wiley House, a tourist wayside, and used a pay phone to call Will's cell phone. I got his voice mail.I ate lunch at a snack bar and contemplated my plans. Should I wait much longer for Will or resume hiking? There were no guarantees that he would show up. I decided that I would wait until 1:00 p.m..I hitched back to the trailhead. Some former thru hikers were having a reunion at the parking lot. They offered me some food which I accepted. I spotted Will. After we exchanged greetings, he opened up his trunk and offered me food and ice tea. By then, I was not hungry after eating lunch and being fed by the people at the reunion. Will insisted that I eat something. He was aware of my usually hungry condition and wanted to help. In consideration of his good intentions, I ate some of the food and drink which he was offering. Slimer showed up and chowed down some chips without hesitation.Will told me that he would hike and camp out for one night, and then backtrack to his car. I suggested that on the following day, he hike with me to Mount Washington and hitch a ride back to his car. He agreed to that plan. Will and I climbed up Mount Webster and Mount Jackson (4,052 feet) and were rewarded with great viewpoints. On Mount Jackson, we held out our hands and birds landed on them seeking handouts.Our climb took us into the high country that would provide a gateway into the Presidential Range. Actually, I suppose we entered the range when we climbed Mount Jackson.We descended into the boreal forest and hiked to the AMC campground and hut at Mizpah Spring. It was near dark out when we arrived.We entered the hut and asked the employees if they would allow us to stay the night in return for work during the evening. The employees at the huts often negotiate such deals with thru hikers. I identified myself as a thru hiker, pointed to Will and stated, "He's with me." The staffer we spoke to, a woman of college-age told us we could spend the night and clean the floors in the morning after the guests had departed. This arrangement would require us to remain at the hut tomorrow morning until 10:00; this was too late for our liking on a day we would be hiking across mile after mile of exposed terrain enroute to Mount Washington. I asked the woman if we could perform some chores in the evening instead of the morning. She declined that request.Will and I walked over to the adjoining campground located in the woods. All of the platforms for tents were occupied. A single campsite, the so called "spillover site," remained. That is the site which we occupied. There was just enough room for my tarp and hammock combination, and the tent belonging to Will. The ground at this spot was wet. A neighboring camper named Dave, a retired man, lent to Will a tarp for use as a ground cloth.In the darkness, we cooked and ate our supper on the rocky ground in front of the entrance to the hut. Dave hung out with us. A thick mist moved through the air. Inside the warm interior of the hut, guests relaxed at tables, playing board games, reading and conversing. I felt just as content sitting outside the building, exposed to the elements, as the guests appeared to be inside the hut. It was a relaxing conclusion to the day.Tomorrow holds in store some beautiful scenery assuming the weather cooperates.