Date: 2014-07-28
From: Gorham, NH

To: North Woodstock, NH
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: light rain

This is from memory, and will be filled in with dates and details later. The White Mountain Hostel in Gorham helped me to slackpack the Whitecap range, so I went the 21 miles north from Pinkham Notch back to them in a long day. (I was afraid of doing it southbound, as the rain had made the descent to Pinkham hazardous.) I saw a bear as I was being dropped off at the trailhead.The next day I was dropped off at Pinkham Notch visitors center and climbed Mt Madison, the first of the Presidential Range for me, and the hardest climb of the trip thus far, with 3 miles of very steep ascent and 1/2 mile above treeline. The wind was whipping and temps dropped into the 40s quickly. I got to Madison Spring Hut and though there were two already signed up to do "work for stay" for the evening, they added me (and eventually 3 others). It was a great experience, and a highlight of the trip. The AMC huts are unique in this regard; as they are perched so high and typically re-supplied by the "croo-members" carrying especially designed toboggan-like packs, they are loath to pack out or compost foodstuffs left over from their paying guests--who pay $120 for a tiny spot on a 3-story bunk--so they leave it out for hikers, and enlist a few thru-hikers to clean up after each evening and morning meal. If you arrive at the right time, therefore, you get to eat top-notch food and sleep on the floor of the living room for free, as opposed to walking most of a mile down to the treeline to either stealth-camp or pay at the established campsites. The "croo" typically put on a little show, give lectures on the history and sustainable practices of their hut, and even have thru-hikers speak on their AT experiences to their guests, who are typically the elite gear-buyers of Boston and NYC.I traversed Mt Adams and Jefferson the next cold morning, and experienced the horror of having to poop in that fragile alpine environment. There was no other option, but I put the best "leave no trace" principles to work: I walked a long way off the trail, hazardously I should add, dug a cat-hole under the moss and lichen, which is basically all that grows above 5,000' there, cleaned myself with a flat rock (and my hand with lots of purell), which I buried along with my waste. I apologized to the mountain, and to this day feel bad about not planning my morning ritual better, but the high-protein foods out here make a mockery of such schedules. This is actually not the most embarrassing potty-story of my thru, but the other way is too gross to share here. Apparently most of us have the giardia bacterium already in our gut, but when they reach critical levels--as often happens in the backcountry--shit gets real. I've also thrown up once on this trip, which scared me at the time, but seems to have been the result of over-exertion.I climbed a cloudy Mt Washington just in time for it to clear. It was perfect timing. I ate a snack at Lake of the Clouds Hut but carried on to Mitzpah Hut for a second work for stay experience. The change in footing was a lesson in geology. So far, the Whites were letting me off easy, and I wondered why I (and most thru-hikers) were so freaked out by them.The next day the weather closed in, and I could see thunder and lightning west towards Franconia Ridge. I hung out at Zealand Falls Hut waiting for a break, but I was cold and getting colder, and decided it was unsafe to go on, and too early to even ask about work for stay. I had no choice but to take Zealand Falls trail down to a remote road and try to hitch to Lincoln and try it again tomorrow. (If I had a better tent, I could have stealth camped, but I was cold and miserable, with little chance of getting a fire started.)After an hour of standing on the side of the road with my thumb out. I gave up, and called a cab and paid $40 to go to Chet's Hostel in Lincoln where I slept on his garage floor: grim. The Franconia Ridge Trail and my re-tracing the final steps of Guy Waterman would have to wait... A hitch the following morning was immediate and took me back north through the glorious notch and to the Old Bridal Path trailhead. I took it up past Greenleaf Hut and over Mt Lafayette and rejoined the AT. The weather for my 3 miles of exposed ridgeline heading back south was perfect. (I ran into NOBO and fbf "Oops Allie" here, of all places; too windy to chat for long.)I returned to the hwy via the Flume trail and began the long climb up the Kinsmen. I paid for a tent-site (though the name of the campsite escapes me) and scurried over the difficult range the next day. When I finally reached the foot of Mt. Moosilake, "Legion" from the Hiker's Welcome hostel in Glencliff happened to be picking up some NOBO slack-packers, and offered to carry most of my gear back with him. It obliged me to stay at that pit--as foul as Chet's for a $15 price-tag--but it saved me, and I skipped the 11 miles to Glencliff over a mere hill that so many NOBOs inordinately fear. It gave me a last look back at Lafayette and Franconia.Now that they're behind me, I wish I had spent more time in the Whites, and did work for stay more often. The weather forced my hand, in part, but I was also eager to make it to easier passage: les montes verde.