Date: 2014-08-10
From: Carter Notch hut

To: Imp Shelter
Miles today: 7.0

August 10¢Carter Notch hut to Imp Shelter¢7 milesWet rocks and me just don't get along. So you can imagine my angst when the rain came down. I awoke after another great night's sleep in the comfort of the cabin at the Carter Notch hut. One of our bunk mates snored merrily, but it didn't bother me. I could have slept through a hurricane! Hiking hard miles (and a little help from an Advil PM) makes deep sleep a blessing. I dragged all my stuff out onto the porch of the cabin so I could pack up my backpack and was ready to go by 5:30. Coffee was promised by then, so I went to the main lodge to check it out. Several campers were already there, sipping steaming mugs of coffee. Nothing is better than good coffee in the morning. I asked if it was possible to get something for breakfast since I hoped to get an early start. The croo chef of the day went above and beyond--fresh strawberries, whole milk yogurt and granola. With a great breakfast and two cups of excellent coffee under my belt, I was ready for the day. The hike began with a steep climb out of Crawford Notch. I remembered a similar climb after Galehead hut and struggling up the mountain. But this climb was no struggle. It was steep and it was long, but it got done without pain. I reached Carter Dome then followed a nice, smooth path with very little up or down over to Mt Hight. Two thru hikers who had passed me stood at the summit looking befuddled. They couldn't find the trail off the mountain. We found a large boulder with a white blaze painted on it and a jumble of rocks in the path below. They insisted that that was the trail that they had summited from. They then located the path that I had come from and insisted that that must be the way, even though it was headed back to Carter Dome. By now, I had lost my bearings and so I followed them but thinking the other path had to be the right one. Shortly, the two hikers returned. They had realized their mistake. At a junction, they had taken a path that bypassed Mt Hight, thinking that was the AT. Then, when the steep part of the AT met their path, they saw a white blaze and followed it up to Mt. Hight. Those poor guys had done the steep part twice! But they were still able to speed ahead of me, never to be seen again. After Mt Hight, I ascended another mountain with a huge cairn. I assumed that it was Middle Carter which meant I only had 2.5 miles left. I'd be at the shelter by 2:00! I contemplated an afternoon of resting at the shelter, eating goodies out of my food bag and working on my journal. The hours went by and I wondered how North Carter could be so far away. The sun was beating down and flies dive bombed my hair. I figured that I must be near a stealth site. Soon, I heard lots of voices and came upon a large group eating lunch. They announced that the mountain up ahead was Middle Carter. But...but...I thought I passed that hours ago! As it turned out, my guide neglected to include SOUTH Carter, and that was the mountain that I had mistaken for Middle Carter. All of a sudden, I was transported back 2.6 miles. There went my plans for a leisurely afternoon at the shelter. Disheartened, I continued my climb to the mountain I hated. I stopped to chat with a couple who had chosen a great place to take in the view of the Presidential range. With our backs to the despised Middle Carter, we admired the clear view of Mt. Washington all the way to Mt. Madison. Because I had recently walked that range, I could really appreciate the beauty and majesty of these great mountains. And then I turned toward Middle Carter to continue my trek. I hoped that some day I would gaze upon Middle Carter with fondness. Pain and suffering are soon forgotten when off the trail.I finally reached a spot I declared was the summit of Middle Carter. For some unknown reason, very few of the summits along this range have anything to let the hiker know that the summit was reached. It¢s pretty confusing because I can always see another summit ahead and so I wonder if I am at a true summit or a false summit. As I sat on a rock eating another packet of peanut butter (I really love the Justin¢s nut butters in the packets), I heard a rumble in the distance. Could that be thunder??? I quickly packed up and headed out.I never knew if I reached the summit of North Carter but I quickly found myself descending. I breathed a sigh of relief as the sun shone through the trees. And then the thunder came. I tried to move quickly but I was trying to negotiate the very steep and treacherous half mile drop off of North Carter. And then the rain came. It just doesn¢t get any worse than that! Wet rocks and worn soles. A disaster waiting to happen. But wait! It does get worse! One of my hiking poles broke in two. It just came apart! I crammed it back together, but every time it got hung up on a root or stuck in mud, I would find the top half in my hand and the bottom half would be stuck in the ground. Continuously putting the pole back together only delayed me further. I was not a happy hiker!Finally, the terrain eased up a bit and I could get some speed, still gingerly stepping around large wet rocks. I met three guys heading in the opposite direction who said that they had been at Imp shelter an hour ago which told me that I probably had an hour and a half before hitting the shelter. I was sure a full blown storm would be raging by then. I moved as quickly as I could, panicking at each rumble of thunder. After a half hour of thunder, me crying, thunder, me crying, I saw something up the path that looked like a sign. Oh, please let that be the sign for the shelter. It was! I said a little prayer of thanks, kissed the sign, and turned down the path to the shelter and to safety.The path to the shelter was not easy to negotiate, and it seemed to take forever. But I finally reached the shelter, and it was empty. Quickly, I grabbed my water containers, my pack towel, and my long underwear¢just in case there was water for bathing. I was so panicked up on the mountain when I heard the thunder, and now, here I was, ready to throw caution to the wind and take a bath in a thundershower. But I hadn¢t seen any lightning.The water source was exquisite! A pipe captured water in a steady stream, filling a large pool. Several yards down some mossy boulders was another pool of water that was as deep as a bathtub. It was too far away for hikers to use as a water source since a perfectly good source existed so close to the trail. I cautiously made my way down to the pool below, not trusting that my Crocs would cling to the mossy rocks. A soft rain fell as I completely stripped and plunged my sweaty body into the cool water. It was heaven. I could feel all the stress and tension of the afternoon dissolve as I relaxed in the clean spring water. More thunder rolled through, closer now. So I stepped out, dried off and put on my clean long underwear then my awful muddy and sweaty clothes over that. I gathered my water and walked to the shelter.I felt great as I set up my little space in the shelter. Soon, a couple of south bounders showed up, and we chatted. They had hiked from Rt. 2 and wanted to get in more miles but the hour was late, and the thunder continued to growl. And then the lightning started. That was it. They were staying.In spite of all that noise, the rain never amounted to much more than showers. Soon, the sun came out and presented a beautiful sunset. A bench overlooks Gorham at the edge of a ledge, and we stood there, appreciating the end of a crazy day. (The bench was wet, so we stood.) Clean. Safe. Well fed. Life is good!