Date: 2013-09-12
From: Speck Pond Shelter

To: Baldpate Lean-to
Miles today: 6.9

None of us slept worth a darn last night. I flipped and flopped. There was some snoring. The trail runner was up and out by 5:30. I wasn't terribly sad to see him go, but I'm still not sure how he could see where to go since it was still so dark. I sat up around 6:30, and I was immediately serenaded with a "Happy Birthday" by Tough Cookie, Pressure-D and Hobo. They showered me with chocolate with of various sorts. It took a while to get going. Hobo and I didn't get going until 8:30. I was really antsy to get moving. With Tom coming home so soon, I feel this urgent need to hike my ass off. Doddling around is not high on my list of priorities.It was somewhat of a challenging climb to get up Old Speck Mountain. It started to rain, so we stopped to put our rain jackets on. My hiking partner and I were moving at two different speeds with two different levels of determination. The rain started coming down harder and for better or worse we pushed on. We passed Pressure-D and Tough Cookie. The trail got really, really steep and completely exposed. Rain was coming down hard, and we were climbing up impromptu waterfalls. The trees were far too short to hide beneath. lightning and thunder were popping and rumbling overhead. Oh shit. It was too dangerous to turn back, so we kept moving forward. I felt guilty for dragging Hobo along with me. We took refuge at the edge of some trees and a steep rock scramble. The rain and wind pounded us. It was difficult to tell from which direction the storm was hitting us. The water was moving swiftly and powerfully down the rocks, and it shot a good 8" off and away from the rocks. The rushing waters took leaves and evergreen needles in the fast moving river. I'll admit it, I was concerned. But we continued on in a cloud. The weather relaxed, and to our left the valley opened up in a soft light with soft ethereal edges. It looked like heaven. The storm lightened up by the time we got to the top. Tough Cookie said she'd spoken with her son's in-laws who lived nearby, and they were going to meet them down at the bottom of Grafton Notch. The weather was supposed to get worse tonight. Hmmmmm... When you are cold and soaking wet, that sounds really inviting, but I wasn't sure it was in our best interest. Apparently Hobo felt the same way.There was a long, 3.5 mile downhill. Fortunately, it wasn't too bad. There were some rock faces (plenty slick ones, at that) to meander down. There were some lovely stone steps, so we didn't have to veer into the woods too often. There were a few boardwalks and more than a few puddles to slosh through. The dry "birthday socks" I'd saved for today were soaked through. I'd wring them out later with an impressive amount of water pouring out. Oh well.The trail opened up onto a wet, grey rock-face. It seemed to drop off into nothingness. Across the gulch was a tree covered slope. The first real reds of fall stood out in the fog. We all took a moment to absorb our environs. The mountains can hide so much so easily.Hobo and I set off ahead of the others We crossed a rushing creek and followed it down the mountain for a mile or so as it gathered strength and volume It's voice grew louder and it took on different tones as it worked its way through the obstacles laid out before it by the mountain. Some times it slid smoothly down flat wide surfaces Another moment it funneled quickly through "V" shaped rock channels Other times it splattered hard on rocks and gather in pools. And still other times it darted between rocks and moss. We zig-zagged down the mountain, until we finally came into Grafton Notch. Pressure-D and Tough Cookie were there waiting on us with their son's mother-in-law. We thanked them, but explained that we wanted to go a bit further today. I wanted to get to Tom. It was so sad to hug them. We assured ourselves that we would meet up, and I feel that we will, but you just never know Hobo and I moved to the picnic tables to have lunch. We chatted with some of the tourists milling about the parking area. Uncle Buck pulled up sporting a hot pink mohawk. I don't think I've seen him since the Smoky Mountains. Hobo and I set off after lunch with Walking Stick. We huffed and puffed up the mountain. We managed to get to the shelter by 3:40. The trail was actually trail, which is fantastically novel these days. It did wonders for our confidence. We've been struggling to hike double digits days, and while today is still less than 7 miles, we did it in a reasonable amount of time. AND we got to stop early.We'd heard that bad thunderstorms were headed our way, so the five of us (Oak & Hipsy Gypsy, Walking Stick, Hobo and I) set up in the shelter. The sky rumbled and got dark. Then the sun would come out and shine down on us. We hung our clothes up to dry. I finished reading a book that I've been carrying around for a while. I also treated myself to a creek bath and then made an early dinner. At 5:10, the bottom fell out of the sky. We got plenty of rain, thunder, lightning and wind- all the ingredients that made us grateful to be in a shelter for the night. Hipsy Gypsy and Oak gave me a beautiful beaded necklace that Hipsy had made for my birthday. I LOVE it. I sorted through my photos and deleted a few. It's the first time I've looked through all of them. Some seem so long ago, and others feel like they were taken on a completely different trip. And yet other seems like only yesterday. What an adventure I've had.Also, it's 8:45 pm, and the shelter is sound asleep. Sometime in the next 24 hrs half way around the world, Tom will board a plane and begin his journey back home. I could see him in a little over 2 weeks, but I'm not sure I'll be able to make it to our meeting place in time. It breaks my heart. I'm dying to get my hands on him.