Date: 2013-07-08
From: VT14-West Hartford, VT-The Arkwright's

To: Tigger's Tree House-Etna-Hanover Center Rd., mi 1,
Miles today: 15.7
Weather: overcast clouds

At the crack of dawn (I think around 5:15 am), I woke to the sound of light rain drops on my tent. I was camped on the backyard lawn of the Arkwrights, next to the gushing sound of a creek that ran along the edge of their yard. I scurried to methodically pack up gear inside my tent in each respective dry bag before tossing it under the vestibule. I changed into my perpetually damp shorts and Icebreaker wool shirt, and dawned my ArcTeryx rain jacket. In a moment from stepping out side the tent, I had pulled all 5 stakes and was running with all my gear for the large tool barn a good 20 yards from where I camped. I opened the large plywood doors to a dark, yet dry space, where I could at least squeegee excess water off my tent. Not having something dry to wipe the tent down in the first place, made this an arduous process. In about 15 minutes, I had my gear packed and walked over to Analog's tent (which I had seldom seen him set up in the short period of hiking with him) and tapped on the wall, whispering "Analog, you awake?" Analog confirmed, and was stirring about inside. I told him that this was the golden opportunity to ditch Fox Trot, but he was not nearly motivated as I was to move quickly. By the time Analog was out of his tent, Fox Trot had woken up and began packing his gear. I realized that I'd have to ditch Analog, who had become a good hiking friend, if I were to every part ways with Fox Trot. At the back steps of the Arkwright's home, FoxTrot fired up his alcohol stove. While Analog and myself stood under the covered side porch, Fox Trot made some instant oatmeal. Analog and I decided to hike over to the Full Belly Deli and Market, which would be opening at 7am. The rain continued, and now, heavily. We placed our wet gear outside under a small back pack kiosk type structure and ordered up some large breakfasts, with exception to FoxTrot, who sat at the table and watched us eat. After consuming pancakes, eggs, potatoes, and a couple of chocolate milks, we headed north towards Hanover, New Hampshire, a short 10 miles north. After crossing a small unnamed creek, the AT followed a good three miles of streets on its approach to Hanover, first down a long moderate hill via Elm Street, then onto Main Street which eventually dipped into a broad valley with palatial homes on either side, before crossing the Connecticut River, which marks the VT-NH border. On the way, a resident had left some trail magic in an ice chest on the road side- fresh fruit, which Analog and I enjoyed. FoxTrot was somewhere ahead. We collectively agreed to allow him to hike ahead and ditch him in town. We first had coffee at an upscale coffee shop and sat outside with our hiker stench people watching. Several folks had stopped and asked us questions about our hike. Analog and myself had lunch at a subterranean burrito joint called Bolloco Burritos, then backtracked on Main Street to the Dartmouth Outing Club on the edge of Dartmouth College. While using the computers to look at flights home, FoxTrot had found us. I booked a flight home from Bangor on August 8, giving myself plenty of wiggle room, with uncertainty about the pace I'd be hiking though the Whites and southern Maine. Although it was expensive to fly out of Bangor, it was the most convenient and it was entirely payed for by earned flight miles on my card. Analog apparently did not yet commit to purchasing a ticket to Spain, where he would hike the El Camino. After touring the Dartmouth Library basement, where the famous Orozco murals resided, we grabbed a few more freebees, including a slice of pizza and beer. By 3pm, it had begun to dump buckets. We decided to stay under cover for a bit and see if the rain would subside. I decided to make my final round of free food (for through hikers) at Ramuntos Brick Oven Pizza on South St., where Analog bought me a beer in exchange for the burrito I bought him at the subterranean Boloco Burritos on Main Street. The rain had still not let up. We got drenched just running a few yards to the Hanover Hardware next door, where I purchased more alcohol for my soda can stove. We stood at the entrance of the store, staring out the window for a few more moments, watching the rain inundate the sidewalks and streets. Finally, we committed to accepting that we needed to move since we had yet to resupply and it was 3:00 pm already. On our hike past playing fields along Lebanon St, the rain had completely stopped, the dark clouds broken by shafts of sun. We resupplied at the Hanover Coop to re-supply, before heading east out of town by 4:30pm. The AT traversed the edge of another large playing field before entering the forest and climbing steeply up mud, roots, and vertical, slippery blocks of rock. Our goal, we collectively decided would be to make it 5 more miles to Etna-Hanover Center Rd. where FoxTrot had arranged for us to be shuttled by the owner of the Tigger's Tree House Hostel. The Ascent up the steep, slippery metamorphic rocks out of Hanover was challenging on full stomachs. By dusk, we were waiting next to an old cemetery for our ride. During our wait, we wandered through the cemetery, inspecting dates on headstones. Most were nineteenth century, but a few were mid 18th century. Within a half hour, an older woman picked us up and drove us to her back woods home, down a gravel driveway. This couldn't have been a better setting for a Steven King novel! The story of "Misery" specifically come to mind. The woman was clearly a big fan of through hikers, in an eery similar type of excitement that the nurse had for the famous author in Steven King's novel. For a moment, I felt vulnerable being toted off to some dark, desolate cabin in the woods, a good haul from the AT, where no one could find us. In front of her house were two trailers, covered in mildew. One I recall, was called the "tank", which Analog and myself opted to sleep in. We enjoyed hot showers, the use of a kitchen and additional hiker box food, and laundry facilities in the basement of her house. She generously allowed us to string our wet gear out on chairs in front of a fan, while we attempted to set up her antiquated VCT with TV to watch a movie. After an hour of fiddling with the connection and never getting it to work, we gave up and headed to bed.