Date: 2015-08-05
From: Pinkham Notch Visitor Center

To: Imp Shelter
Miles today: 13.1
Weather: clear sky

I can't believe it was only 13 miles.13 freaking miles! LONG MILES. FOREVER MILES.I had some really good motivation for a couple of days there. I was pounding my way through the Whites. I know that I'm not the only one who is anxious to get to Katahdin. Every day, I rotate through a million different feelings. I climb a mountain, and as I ascend, I just want it to END. I want to be done. I get tired of hiking, tired of my legs screaming and my knees aching. But then I hit a flat patch and I fall in love with the trail again. I feel better. The magic returns. Then I head downhill and slip and fall and curse and am angry again. "STUPID TRAIL!" I grumble, not that hit helps...Today, I slowed down. Originally, I was planning on a 21 mile day to the White Mountains Hostel, which I have heard many good things about. However, as I was hiking this morning at a measly 1 mph up Wildcat Mountain, I started to rethink this plan. Wildcat was rough. I was going soooo slow. Not even slug pace... more like dead slug pace. A dead slug would have slid down that mountain in its trail of slime faster than I was climbing up it. I figured that if I pushed all the way to the hostel, I wouldn't get there until late. What was the point of going to a hostel if I wasn't going to have time to enjoy the benefits of said hostel? I want to revel in the joy of clean laundry. I want to take an hour-long, scalding shower. I want to order a huge pizza and have all day to eat it (I mean, digest it...). I want to have an hour to call my parents and time and battery to update my journal pictures. I WANT TO LAY IN BED AND READ MY BOOK AND BE FAT AND LAZY.So instead I settled for a shorter day today and a nero tomorrow. I crawled along at a leisurely pace, still dying up the mountains, knowing that I had all day to get here. And it took forever. FOR-FREAKING-EVER. So many steep climbs and descents. So many wet rocks and roots. My legs are scratched and scarred and a mess. Last night, as I was heading across the parking lot of the Pinkham Notch Visitor Center to find my campsite, a lady hailed me from behind. I had held the visitor center door open for her earlier. "I'm a nurse," she explained as she asked if I needed help and gave me bandages. My leg had a nice stream of blood down it. It really wasn't bad, though. My shower revealed a tiny scrape. No Band-Aids needed.I would like to point out that even though I really DO have messy, scraped, scarred legs, this might actually be a good thing. It's a sign that I am maintaining contact with the rocks as much as I can. I am shimmying down with my butt and legs along the rock. Otherwise, with less contact, I am more likely to slip and fall and SERIOUSLY hurt myself. I'm willing to take a few scratches over a broken bone.I don't even know what would happen if I broke a bone. Sob in distress as I continued down the trail, dragging my lame foot, shattered in a dozen places, behind me? I suppose my trekking poles would make decent crutches, at least. Except that every once in a while they still slip and retract mid-hike, which is another cause of frustration. Those poor trekking poles... they are even more scratched and banged up than my legs. They have seen epic adventure. I keep my fingers crossed that they last the rest of the journey. We have a strong bond now. A bond stronger than the super glue that kept the toes of my old Merrells together.Those poles have saved me from tripping and falling probably hundreds of times. But what if, one day, it didn't happen? What if I suffered an injury so severe that I couldn't continue to hike?One thing I don't like about the mountains is that they ruin my thinking. Usually I can get a lot of good thinking done in a day. But today I realized that I have been so focused on where to put my feet so that I won't careen down a mountainside or pull a crotch muscle or break my face on a boulder that I haven't been thinking much. I have had Pippin songs stuck in my head, though. I am glad that I don't have to foray into promiscuity or slay Visigoths (IT'S A PLAY, NOT HISTORICALLY ACCURATE) to know that simple things can bring me happiness.I am kind of sick of climbing mountains, though. Not sick of being in the mountains, or the views or the air or the breathtaking majesty of this place. But climbing kind of sucks.Today I made the unfortunate mistake yet again of trying to eat more for energy, when I just need SLEEP.I also stopped at Carter Hut (SO PRETTY, in the notch, surrounded by pristine bodies of water, the trees rising up gracefully around them) to dry out my tent. I woke at midnight to the sound of rain on my tent, and had to scurry outside to properly stake my rain fly. Oops.I passed by SOG near the side trail to the hut and suppressed a groan. I like SOG well enough, but he is a narrator if there ever was one. He will talk for an hour if you let him. I have listed to him talk for an hour before. I really had to pee and kept trying to move on as he kept finding new things to talk about. Somehow I escaped after like 5 minutes.When I went into the hut to fill my water bottles, Wonder (who is from Libya and was slackpacking) there, eating leftovers. And even though I wasn't hungry, and had eaten a generous breakfast and double morning snack, it smelled so good that I asked Annie, the croo member on kitchen duty, if I could have some, too.I think it's nice that the huts let thru-hikers have leftovers. Less trash for the crops to pack out and real food for us. I feel like some hikers take it for granted though. Like they deserve it, or are entitled to it. I have enough of my own food, but real food is so much better. I am so thankful for the many good meals I have had over the last few days.So I washed dishes and asked the poor girl twenty questions (How long is your season? Do you like working in the guys? How often do you have to hike in food? What's your least favorite part of working in the hut?). She was very patient, but as more hikers arrived requesting food, she started to get overwhelmed. Other lunchtime visitors included Not Swedish (who is Swiss), Sam Wise (from England), I also saw ISO and Silent Force as I was leaving. ISO is tenting here tonight, while Silent Force is in the shelter with me, along with Hansel and Gretel (my favorite older German couple) and another guy I don't know.In return for my Hut labor, I got stuffed shells, hot cocoa, chocolate cake, and bread. No wonder I am so pudgy.So I eat too much and am tired. I am trying to get to bed early tonight. Unfortunately my fingers are very cold, which means typing this is very slow.I have been going to bed late lately. Two nights in huts meant not enough sleep. Work-for-stay thru-hikers sleep on the dining room floor, and aren't allowed to do so until after lights out, which is at 9:30. Past my bedtime. At Mizpah, I had my Thermarest inflated at 9:20. I was READY. I almost fell asleep curled up on a wooden bench as I waited and waited and waited for the appointed hour.And last night I spent time showering and processing my mail drop (and eating 487 snacks out of it), so it was another late night.Um... What else happened today? It's so hard to remember sometimes. I passed a group of teens out with AMC guides. They were heading down a steep descent. It was a horrible place to have to pass them. I felt really bad as they struggled to move aside and out of my way at the herald of their guides. As I hiked on, I heard one girl behind me wail, "That was so scary!" And it was. The trail is REALLY DANGEROUS. It would only be too easy to slip, and once you slip, it might be a long, long time until you're able to stop... and most of the things that would help you stop are hard, and poky, and painful.I would hate to be one of those guides. It would probably be fun, but I hate the idea of being responsible for other people up here where it is so treacherous. I am amazed that there aren't more deaths and injuries out here.I always make the mistake of staying in shelters. But I want to avoid wind and rain. It is pretty cold up here, and very windy. However, late arrivals mean less sleep for me. I deserve it. If I wasn't so lazy, I would tent it and get more sleep. OH WELL.This shelter and campsite have an $8 fee, but I asked if I could work-for-stay and the caretaker said sure (he is probably a couple yeas younger than me and rather attractive). So I clipped some trees and helped him set up a tarp over the cooking area. I basically wasn't helpful at all and it took a lot of time, but he is cute and friendly. TOTALLY WORTH IT. I asked him a million questions, too, just like with the girl at the hut. I am so curious!I am feeling a little sad now because Dan is sending me pictures of the pizza he and mom are eating for dinner (I want to be eating pizza with mom and Dan!), and some guy just put his shoes and socks next to me and they stink. I might actually have to move them. Or ask him to move them. Or suck it up and suffer, I guess... I am heaving a heavy sigh as I endure the drawbacks of my shelter choice. But at least my tent is still dry!So many people just showed up. I JUST WANT TO SLEEP. Why must they be so loud? Also this middle-aged guy is kind of being a baby, complaining about his wet socks. He is also kind of being a dick to his companion, who is being incredibly kind and patient. Hahahaha I want to tell him off but whatever. Not my shelter. We all have bad days, and I can forgive grumpiness. Disturbing others is a different matter. Poor Silent Force had to ask them not to shine their lights directly in his face as he tried to go to bed.Time to attempt sleep!I can't wait to order pizza tomorrow!I am thankful for my warm jacket and sleeping bag, for food and comfort (though my legs and butt aren't that comfortable in my tightening pants). I am thankful to have pizza money from my pizza fairy and thus PIZZA to look forward to. I am just plain thankful in general. My life is wonderful.ALSO EAR PLUGS. I AM THANKFUL FOR EAR PLUGS. Time to crash! Good night!