Date: 2013-09-01
From: Zealand Falls Hut

To: Rental house in Glen, NH, Crawford Notch
Miles today: 7.9

Last night I didn't sleep worth a darn. I was so hot. I started out in my heavy long johns under the 12 degree down sleeping bag. By the time I got up in the morning, I'd completely changed clothes and was down to a t-shirt and my hiking shorts. I still was sweating. It had rained heavily off and on all night. I was worried and feeling quite guilty about Pressure-D and Tough Cookie, knowing they were out there in the rain in their tarp. The croo was up and had freshly brewed coffee out by 5:45. They generously let me have the first cup of piping hot brew. Bless their souls. I sneaked a bowl from the kitchen and mixed up a bowl of powdered milk and granola. If I could keep my cook set clean, I could save myself 10 minutes. Good thing, because by 6:00 a.m. we were kindly asked to move our stuff outside. The hut guests were up, and the croo was trying to get breakfast on the table. No problem.We got our stuff together and exchanged contact information with Giver. We took several photos of us all together. Hobo tried to convince her to flip-flop and head back north with us, but she was determined to head south. We parted ways, Giver heading south; Hobo and I heading north. Our trail took us steeply downhill for a short bit, then it leveled out into a smooth, flat gravel path. For the next three or so miles we cruised along. Hobo jumped up and did a little heel click. I was impressed. I didn't try for fear of twisting an ankle. We followed through the woods, and suddenly the path opened up on a huge ancient rock slide. Our path had been cleared, but thousands of huge boulders lay hundreds of feet in every direction. We had a clear view back towards the hut. It looked so secluded, tucked neatly in among the trees. Clouds wisped up from the valley floor. Water droplets clung to the spruce needles. Everything felt so fresh. We stopped at Thoreau Falls. Something about it called to me. Hobo stayed back while I went to check it out. A white granite shoot funneled the water like a waterpark ride. I kept expecting tourists to come whizzing by in a giant inner tube, but they never came. I took some photos and wished it was later in the day so we could sit on the rocks and eat lunch. But as it were, it was early and we wanted to get down to the road to meet Anita. We worked our way down to Crawford Notch and encountered Pressure-D and Tough Cookie. They were in good spirits and had managed to stay pretty dry under their tarp. We were relieved! We got to a parking area and found the Flying J's sitting next to a pile of trail magic that had been dropped off only an hour before. There was a collapsible ice chest full of ice cold Coors Lite and a cardboard box with little goodie bags. They were stocked with wet wipes, deodorant, body power, cliff bars and travel sized bottles of Jack Daniels. Sweet. And it was put out in honor of John "Fing" Wayne, a former AT thru-hiker who had died in a tragic hiking accident a few years prior down in Alabama. We popped open our beers and cheers each other. The Whites were treating us well, that's for sure. We walked the .3 down to Crawford Notch. Hobo hadn't been able to get ahold of Anita on the phone, so we really weren't sure when she would be coming by to pick us up. We laid in the grass, and I ate lunch. I ate three days worth of salami and pepperoni and then immediately regretted it. After an hour or so, Hobo and I decided that we would hitchhike down to the AMC Highland's Center. I had a maildrop waiting for me there, and he thought he'd have cellphone reception. We took our stuff and crossed the road. There was a ton of traffic, so we figured it would be easy to get a hitch. We were wrong. There was lots of weekend traffic, and no one slowed down. Our compadres across the road were full of all sorts of pointers and recommendations. They laughed at various tactics and egged us on to try something a bit more creative. Finally, we just stood there with our thumbs out and dumb smiles on our faces. I'm not sure I would have stopped for us either, but one nice SUV took pity and pulled over. They were locals. They dropped us in the parking lot of the Highland's Center, and we wandered around the property trying to figure out which building to go to. We decided to try the big one. Beginner's luck!I successfully collected my box, and as I was about to leave I saw one of the hut guests I'd met the two previous nights. As it turns out, she and her husband had been guests on several Backroads trips (I worked for Backroads as a trip leader for six years), and I knew a couple of their trip leaders. So we talked for a bit, and she and her husband offered us a ride back out to the trail. Perfect!Back at the trail, Tough Cookie and Pressure-D had strung out some of their wet gear, and it was looking more and more like a hiker settlement. So much so that Miss Janet stopped by to see if we needed anything. We couldn't help but laugh. We said, no, Anita was on her way. About that time, Hipsy Gypsy and Oak walked up. Anita had found a house to rent for the next couple of days, and there was room for them to join us. We managed to pack seven adults and six large packs in a Subaru Outback. Tough Cookie and I crawled in the back with our packs across our legs. We fit so snugly in the car, I wasn't sure a seat belt could have kept me any more secure. My legs were stiff and numb by the time we got to our house. It is gorgeous. Four bedrooms, an awesome sitting space, a large dining room and spacious kitchen. There is a great party area outback. It was within easy walking distance from several restaurants. Too bad we can't stay longer. We toured around the house with our mouths open. It's going to be tough to go back to the trail.We were going to cook dinner at the house, but by the time it came time to eat, we decided to head down to the margarita grill. I had a frozen margarita and a plate of nachos big enough to feed three thru-hikers. I took half of it to go. And now I lay in my comfortable bed, listening to the rain pound on the ceiling and pour down the drains. Oh, I'm so grateful not to be out there camping in that crap.