Date: 2011-08-08
From: Stealth spot off of the Wildcat River Trail

To: Rattle River Shelter
Miles today: 13.3
Weather: fog

(In which I get a small taste of the weather in the Whites and camp outside of Gorham)Marathon and I wake up at 6, Doc Boom and Trashcan an hour or so later, and we all head back to the trail at 8. We stop by the hut for water on our way out and say hi to Jessie and Amanda who are huddled outside, still waiting to be called in for the breakfast leftovers. Having already eaten our own food an hour ago, we start heading up Carter Mountain. We push hard up the 1500 feet of elevation up Carter, safe in the knowledge that this will be our last big climb in the state of New Hampshire, and reach the top sweaty but victorious.Carter is followed by the much smaller bump of Mt. Height. Trashcan leads the way over Mt. Height, and shortly after starting down the other side he retreats back to the tree-sheltered summit. "Holy shit it is cold and windy over there," Trashcan says, looking shell shocked. Doc Boom heads over to investigate next and also quickly comes back with an estimate of 30 mph winds of 35 degree air. We all stop to put on all of our remaining clothes, and then continue with the added protection of hats, rain jackets and rain pants.As soon as I reach the edge of the summit I feel a harsh blast of wintery air and can see the foggy clouds as they whip past at eye level. Our jackets flap noisily in the roaring wind and we have to shout to be heard. The extreme weather lasts no more than two minutes before we fall below tree line again, where it is warm and almost completely sheltered from the wind. A few minutes after that we are sweltering from hiking all bundled up and have to stop again to shed our added layers. We feel slightly foolish, but our relief at the return to calmer weather more than makes up for the inconvenience of having to stop and change clothes again. The experience reminds me of Clingman's Dome and what I had feared the Whites would be like, and what it no doubt is for other, unluckier hikers.By comparison, the rest of the day is calm and pleasant, and even when it rains we are glad to be back in familiar weather that we know how to deal with and hike through. The sun comes out as we drop more than 2500 feet to the shelter before Gorham, and as the weather and vegetation changes it feels like we are traveling back in time to early Virginia. Walking down the trail I see Buckeye Flash, whom I had last seen when he passed me in Delaware Watergap, PA, but who slowed down recently after an ankle injury in the Whites.He's walking toward us, slacking south for the day I assume, and I tease him about it by pointing out the obvious, calling out, "Hey Buckeye Flash, you're walking south!" He looks tired and replies, "I'm so weary that I almost believe you." This wasn't the response I was expecting, and I say, "No, really, you're walking south." Trying to think of something externally verifiable so he'll know I'm not yanking his chain, I add, "Remember how the elevation profile to Gorham was all downhill for miles? Well we're definitely going downhill, and you're going up." Still not entirely convinced, he turns around and walks back with us over the ground he just covered, and fifteen minutes and two stream crossings later we reach the shelter before Gorham and can accurately pinpoint our location. Buckeye shakes his head, still not sure how he got turned around. He presses on the 1.9 to the road, having reservations for the night at the hostel, but the rest of us stop at the shelter so we can head into town for our reservations tomorrow.We have plenty of daylight left so we set up our tents, hang our wet clothing and gear out to dry and sit around talking and listening to music. Being so close to town, the trail by the shelter sees a lot of foot traffic, and two day hikers walk by on a late afternoon hike. After confirming that we are thru-hikers, one of them pauses and asks hesitantly, "So I've always wondered, what do you guys do if you see a bear?" I laugh and offer, "Try to take its picture?" Though hardly kosher bear safety advice, this is in fact the nearly universal thru-hiker response to a bear sighting, which usually results in pictures of a bear's distant rump as it hightails it away from the large, potentially dangerous photo-taking mammal.A father and son show up later to stay in the shelter for the night, the man being in his fifties and the boy around eight. After chatting a while the two go down to the river to filter water and wash up, and when the father walks back up to the shelter a while later I see Marathon's eyes widen and an incredulous smirk spread across his face. The father, I soon see, seems to have returned wearing only a t-shirt that is just long enough to cover his crotch. When the boy returns after him he asks his father, "Um, are you wearing any underwear?" It's safe to say that this is the same question the rest of us were all wondering too, and we are relieved to hear that the answer is yes. "It's fine, were all hikers here," the father says, brushing off his son's embarrassment, and Marathon has to turn his head to hide his barely contained mirth.The father soon puts on a pair of pants, and is fully clothed by the time another family of eight show up at dusk. Having had our fun, we thru-hikers retreat to our tents for the night while the locals put up their tent and gather around the remnants of the fire that Trashcan had made.Tomorrow I plan to shower for the first time in a week and eat some hot, cheesy food in Gorham.