Date: 2018-08-23
From: Killington, Vermont

To: Gorham, NH
Miles today: 183.0

How blessed I have been these past few hundred miles.  We finally entered New Hampshire and 50ish miles later entered The Whites, hands down the most scenic and beautiful part of the trail I have been witness to thus far.  As can be seen from the pictures, these mountains are unlike any others on the trail.  Dominated by steep climbs and descents, bald rocky tops, and rows and rows of tight ridges, the whites have proven to be challenging yet extremely rewarding.  We have been experiencing 2000-3000 foot climbs/descents in less than 2-3 miles.  Some descents are jokingly described as controlled falls.  Our knees don¢t find it quite that funny.  However, the weather has been extremely cooperative during our time over Franconia Ridge, the Presidentials, and the Wildcats, as can also be seen in the pictures.  Only 15 days out of the year does Mount Washington, the most dangerous mountain on trail, have a view, and it just so happened to be clear on our climb.  Climbing up Washington was borderline emotional as we started to feel the level of accomplishment of our hike so far, we felt extremely lucky to have such cooperative/rare weather, and the beauty of the area was so striking it tickled the soul.  More on the emotions in a bit.  The nights have been exceptionally cold though, especially compared to what I am used to for August.  Currently we are experiencing 40 degree nightly temperatures with windy conditions on top of the ridges.  Not quite sure if this is normal for this area or if the temperatures will improve, but either way we will take it as it comes.  We will be exiting The Whites tomorrow and will be entering Maine, our final state, late Saturday or early Sunday.  Now back to the emotional aspect of this hike.  We have reached a point of exhaustion and pain.  The Whites have been really difficult on our bodies, especially the knees, making most steps taken fairly painful.  And we still have what is said to be the hardest part of the trail on the horizon.  Yet we are all in this together and understand what each person is going through, humbling each of us.  We are also feeling closer and closer to the end, as we only have 300 miles left, which, in the grand scheme of the hike, is the home stretch.  So comes a very bittersweet perception of our current position on the trail.  We are excited to be finishing, we are overwhelmed by what we have accomplished so far, yet refrain from celebrating until we finish, and we can count down in terms of days/weeks rather than months/states.  However, simultaneously and ironically, we are starting to understand how special, transformative, and rare this experience is/has been and the thought of it ending brings sadness, as well.  We find ourselves talking to the Sobos (south bounders that started in Maine and are heading to Georgia), trading notes on what to expect so on and so forth, and through these conversations we realize how much we have learned and experienced on this adventure.  We have also shared these experiences, either directly or indirectly, with several others, creating a unique bond with other individuals on trail.  At the end of this trail, we all go back to our respective places on the planet to tell of our adventure, yet are separated from those we shared it with.  Some of these people I realistically know I will never see again.  It is such an interesting and unique social atmosphere on the trail.  Everyone shares mutual respect for what the others are doing as we all understand the difficulty of the journey, and we all share the same goal and continue to route and cheer for one another.  We continue to bump into one another in towns or on trail, creating a mini, mobile community which feels somewhat exclusive.  I¢m not sure where or how else this can be experienced other than through this trail, making it rare and unique.  I have also been fortunate enough to spend more time with some than others throughout my hike.  I have been hiking with the same group of people for the last 400 miles or so, establishing pretty tight bonds that are also unique in that they have been formed in strife and shared tenacity.  And soon this will all end.  This brings the anticipation of sadness along with the anticipation of immense joy of finishing and returning to our homes/friends and families (and dogs).  All of this definitely adds another layer to this experience that would be hard for anyone to understand who has not been involved, yet I see that it is one of the most crucial parts to the hike.  What an adventure this has been.  I continue to miss each of you and am excited to relay to you the best I can this experience over time.  I love you all and carry each of you with me.