Date: 2021-07-11
From: Rt 2 Gorham (mile 298.2)

To: Carter Notch (mile 313.5)
Miles today: 14.5

I woke up planning to zero, watching others scurry around to catch the shuttles to the trailheads. I walked across the street to get a breakfast sandwich (okay, two sandwiches), and marveled at what an absolutely gorgeous day it was. How could I zero today? I didn't even feel tired. I played Hamlet for a little while before finally deciding to hike. Did a quick and dirty resupply for an overnight over the Carter-Wildcat ranges to Pinkham Notch, after which I'd return to the Barn and really zero. Beach Day and Prepack were hiking up from the Rt 2 trailhead by Rattle River. I decided rather than hitch and chase them I'd hike a trail directly out of Gorham up to Mt Moriah and intercept the AT there. It's about the same distance and same elevation gain. I'd considered hiking this trail into town last year during my thruhike but stuck to the white blazes. But now I have no reason not to veer from the beaten path when opportunity presents. In just four years I've gone from white-blaze purist to "continuous footsteps" to simply "eh, it's in the corridor". At this point hiking the AT is just an excuse to explore the mountains. With 5400 miles of AT on my feet I have nothing to prove to myself or anyone else.The trail was dreamy for the first couple of miles - dry, dirt, on a steady, reasonable slope. I felt fantastic. I was happy just to be outside and walking on this perfect day, surrounded by the mountains.Found Beach Day and Prepack on Mt Moriah with several dayhikers. One whose grandmother I'd met two miles back. She had made the ascent in May but was tired and stopped at a viewpoint where the trail had started up steep bedrock slopes. She sent her grown grandson ahead who'd never summited before.After lunch and drying out our shirts we dropped down from Moriah and climbed up into the Carter range. Here we crossed paths with all the slackpackers from the Barn. Had to take a side trail to the Imp Campsite for water. The stream was running fast down a bedrock sluice. Half of a hollowed-out branch was positioned as a spigot for easy access. The three of us hung out at the shelter for a bit where we met the caretaker, Adam. The same catetaker who'd been at Speck Pond warning them about the beavers. We bought thruhiker passes from him which give you discounts on AMC-maintained campsites throughout the Whites, as well as free or reduced-cost food at the huts. Adam is an Adirondack peakbagger and a trail runner. He's been running up to the Carters from here for exercise.Beach Day and Prepack wanted a short day so stopped when we found a large stealth site on Middle Carter. I continued on down into Zeta Pass and up over Mt. Hight and Carter Dome before plunging down into Carter Notch on a steep series of stone steps. The terrain has been an improvement over the Mahoosucs, but is still extremely rocky. Less rooty and boggy, though still plenty of puddles, and fewer ledges and cliffs, though there are still quite a few good scrambles. Having mostly dry surfaces was a huge improvement. Not trusting my worn shoes on wet rocks and roots has been the biggest challenge. At Carter Notch I approached the hut. One of the hiker guests called out that I was just in time for dinner. "That's what I like to hear!" I answered. Inside, a girl on the hut croo asked if I wanted a bunk. I was surprised they had any availability. But at $122 a wooden bunk was too rich for my blood. I asked about work-for-stay: not happening this year, confirming what I'd heard from many northbounders. Tenting nearby? They pointed me up the trail. Well, that was easy! Dinner? You can't buy just dinner, but there might be leftovers. No guarantees. But I'm willing to gamble! First I bought their last two slices of shoofly pie for four dollars, then gobbled them up as the croo lined up, banged pots, and cried out that dinner was ready. While everyone was busy eating dinner I walked down to the pond and skinny-dipped. 26 days in a row! A few minutes after I dried and dressed, two northbounders came along. I'm sorry to say my first thought was that I'd have to fight for leftovers! But all they wanted was a bathroom and water, and shortly they were climbing up to Carter Dome to camp. I, meanwhile, followed the side trail past the sleeping huts and through some rough-looking terrain on the Wild River Trail until I stumbled on a perfect previously-used tent spot. I don't know if it was outside the quarter mile no-tenting area around the hut, but it was far enough that no one would see me. Outside the hut I was reunited with Pappy. He's been a day or so ahead for the last week but slowed down in this stretch after zeroing during the rainstorm. He bought an AMC membership and is taking advantage of his flexible budget to stay at this and several other huts over the next week. In fact he only has to walk six or eight miles a day. This is "platinum blazing" at its finest.I poked my head in the hut at the suggested time and the croo immediately knew what I wanted. A girl took me into the kitchen, gave me a plate and fork, and offered a half full 9x12 pan of manicotti, peas, and carrot cake. Manicotti! It's Heaven! I ate nearly all of it, and could have cleaned it out but held back to avoid feeling too full. The croo had moved into their private quarters leaving me the entire dining room. I could hear them laughing and playing music, their work done for the day. All the guests have retired to their bunkhouses or gone on strolls. On my way back to camp I took a detour to a placed marked "The Ramparts". It's a large field of enormous sharp-angled boulders. I carefully manuevered past a few hut guests and picked my way out to a distant boulder with a view of the valley to the east. As dusk settled in I found my way back to the tent. The air is still and silent, not a sound in the forest.