Date: 2005-08-22
From: Glencliff, New Hampshire

To: Campsite near Elizabeth Brook Shelter
Miles today: 15.3

Vievel and I left the hostel at 7:45. Facing us was Mount Moosilauke, the first major climb into "the Whites" with a 3800 foot ascent over five miles, then two miles of ridge walking followed by a 3800 foot descent over 3 miles. We were slightly intimidated, given the stories we'd heard about how brutal "the Whites" tend to be. In the higher elevations, above the tree line, the weather is highly unpredictable and dangerous if you are unprepared. Every year, there are those who venture out unprepared, despite the warnings, and literally pay with their lives. (Hence the winter gear in my pack!)Mount Mosilauke, at 4800 feet, is only a warm up for what's next- Mount Washington's 6200 feet. However, this was just the beginning of "the Whites" and we'd both heard that the downhill was especially bad. Our plan, therefore, was to do the climb up along with two miles of ridge line and then stay at the Beaver Brook Shelter. This made for a hike of less than 8 miles, which given the circumstances, seemed reasonable.We set off uphill at a steady pace, and found the trail was not too bad. Rocky, with a relentless upward climb, but not too many really steep, rock scramble-type challenges. In fact, we were able to hike nonstop for over 2 hours before taking our first break and we made the summit without a second break. As we went above treeline we saw the first of the cairnes- pyramidal rock piles that are used to mark the trail as there is virtually no vegetation. (Goodbye woods... goodbye fields... goodbye ponds. HELLOOOOOOO granite!)At the very top there were more cairnes and the traditional wooden post and sign.We had reached our very first summit in "the Whites" and it felt great! We slapped a few "high fives", took full advantage of the photo op and then enjoyed a well deserved break before moving on. We felt good!An hour later we arrived at Beaver Brook Shelter. We had lunch and debated as to calling it a day, or, take on the downhill challenge.It was just past noon. Neither of us had ever quit that early in the day so the inclination was to keep going. (Don't try this at home, kids. It's that adrenaline that'll hook you every time...)On the other hand, there did not appear to be anywhere to stay. No shelter or established camp site for another 9.7 miles and 6.7 miles of it came after hiking the rough downhill section. A more troubling consideration presented itself as we ate; it had started to rain. We had been told that the downhill was bad enough when dry, but even more treacherous when wet.Just as I was thinking that the decision had been made for us, the sun came out again. By then we had finished our lunch, were feeling much refreshed, and it was still only 2PM. So we shouldered our packs and, with some trepidation, set off down the trail.It was soon clear what the downhill was all about. We basically followed Beaver Brook, the challenge being that the brook became a waterfall, cascading downward over rock formations for the next 3 miles and with a 3800 foot descent to the valley below.In several places iron rebars had been hammered into the rock as hand-holds.That, along with stairs which were also held in place with metal rods, were all enabled us to get over the otherwise impossible to climb areas.We needed both hands, our feet and sometimes our butts as well, to navigate over the rocks. We took it slow and VERY carefully, stopping every so often to marvel at the gorgeous waterfall as we followed its path. It was, without a doubt, the most beautiful cascade I have seen on the AT. It took us 2 1/2 hours to navigate the 3 miles of "trail", and we were elated to reach the bottom. After another exchange of "high-fives", we came upon a road crossing and discovered several of our hiker friends enjoying trail magic. We quickly joined the party - hosted by a married couple who had hiked the AT together 13 years ago - at age 70! I'm afraid I made a pig of myself, but our hosts kept saying they didn't want to have to cart the stuff back home - so I had a root beer, a grape drink, an orange juice and an apple juice plus several homemade oatmeal-butterscotch cookies. I even pocketed a boxed blueberry pie for dessert that evening. Burp!Momentarily satiated, we set off again, thinking we should be able to reach the Eliza Brook Shelter in the three and a half hours of daylight we had left. At 2 miles an hour, we'd be fine. If we were a little faster than that, all the better. The elevation chart on our map showed a 750 foot climb followed by a lot of "ridge walking", so we asssumed we could make it in time. We were sooooo wrong!The first hill was a really steep and rocky up, not a rock scramble, but a truly hard climb. Having accomplished that, we fully expected, with good cause, an easier time from there on out. (NOTE TO READER: Please note above note about evil adrenaline. Can be bad, bad stuff...) Oh, did I mention that, earlier, I'd seen my first moose? Yup, my very first one right there on the AT-very, very cool! Truly a magnificant creature! (NOTE TO SELF: Back away from the moose and nobody gets hurt. Actually, stay far, far away from the mooses. Even visual contact seems to intensify the adrenaline issue. Not good...) Actually, when I initially saw the moose out of the corner of my eye, at first I thought it was a exceptionally big black bear. But then I realized that it was way too big to be a bear, and come to think of it, bears don't even have antlers. (they don't, do they??) Hey, I'm quite the wildlife expert, eh?At that point, I declared the day one of my absolute best ever days on the trail. I was a very happy hiker! However, Tto and a half hours later, I was rethinking that assessment...It turned out that the 6.7 miles from trail magic to the shelter was, without question, absolutely the worst section of trail I have experienced since I started at Springer Mountain! Instead of ridge walking, it was a series of short but steep ups followed by short but steep downs. The treadway consisted alternately of rocks and bog - 12 inch deep, boot-sucking muck. The ups consisted of one boulder after another to boost ourselves over. It was endless, and it was soon clear the shelter was not within reach without night-hiking, which we were not prepared to do.To make a long story short, Vievel spotted a small flat area large enough for our tents, and we bailed out. We'd done more than fifteen miles into "the Whites" on our first day, so we were happy about that, but totally exhausted. If we had it to do over again, we'd have stopped and camped back at the road crossing where we had the trail magic. Lesson learned!Today's hike is dedicated to the virtures of the learning curve. We won't make that same mistake anytime soon!Stay tuned, Longhaul------------------------------Sent via PocketMailEmail Anywherewww.pocketmail.com