Date: 2008-09-04
From: Osgood Tentsite

To: Carter Notch Hut
Miles today: 10.7
Weather: fog

Headed off down the trail, pleased by the relative flatness and ease of the trail, running along through birch groves, crossing small creeks here and there, perfectly rounded slick boulders. Followed a ridgeline above the Peabody River, orange scree, crossing a suspension bridge over the clear river, onwards, hiking with Medium Rare, talking, one steep prolonged climb uphill, just enough to knock the breath out of me, passing through picturesque forests of mixed pine and hardwoods, leaves showing a little colour here and there. A blessedly flat stretch of old road took us in to the visitor¢s center at Pinkham Notch. Bulldog was sitting on the porch when we hiked in¢¦it was a great surprise to see him again! We went in to the cafeteria and got ourselves an overpriced burger, then lounged on the porch until the morning was well advanced. Dreading the climb up into the Wildcat Range, I set out, running along a clear gravel bottomed creek through a fairytale evergreen forest. Passed a glacial pond, the trail cluttered with mossy boulders, flooded here and there from the lake¢s overflow. It was difficult at times to keep track of where the trail went. Finally, it turned, and began to climb steadily uphill, over rocks like loafs of bread, that grew in size until I was pulling myself up over boulders. The others were behind me, or well ahead, and I climbed in solitude. I have come to be at peace with the mountains when I am alone. It was a hard climb, and it grew steeper and steeper, one place a sheer plane of rock on the face of the mountain where rebar handholds were the only means of passage. Dead pine trees. The road snaked far below, tiny, but still seeming too close. Progress was slow. An impossible rockface had a crevice blasted into it, which had to be climbed by wedging my body into it, hoping I didn¢t slip. Fortunately, it was dry. It took forever to reach the summit, and then the trail ran through thick evergreen forests, dying blue bead lillies, moss thick everywhere, no water, regretting that I¢d only packed out a liter and a half from the visitor¢s center. Looking for anything, even a stagnant pool, but there was nothing, so I drank as little as I could. The second and third summit of the Wildcat Range, creatively labeled ¢B¢ and ¢C¢ jutted up in the distance, pine-clad and steep. I climbed up over rounded boulders, running along bits of ridge now and again, sometimes clambering down into moss-filled hollows, the light dimmed by the thick branches of evergreen. Finally, I heard the sound of a motor, the gondola in the gap between peaks ¢E¢ and ¢D.¢ There was a picnic table outside of the closed summit house in a flowery meadow, the clear cut for the ski run giving us views back to the Presidential Range, Washington swaddled in clouds, the sky growing overcast above us. Medium Rare had reached the spot before me, and I joined him for a snack. Eventually, the other girls and Hare hiked up as well. It began to look like rain, so we set off down the trail again, the climb over the next few peaks much easier than the first part of the day. Before too long, the trail began descending, down roughly terraced boulders, the knees angry at the steepness. Filled up my water bottle, finally, at a little waterfall. There had been a rockslide at some point, and the trail was obscured by loose gravel, shards of rock. Boulders lay below where they¢d fallen, the mountainside wiped clean of vegetation. The open space gave a view down into the pretty valley below, pine trees and smooth ponds. We all headed to Carter Notch Hut, where we received a warm welcome from the croo, who let all of us do work-for-stay. K1 arrived, but he decided to hike on after taking a long break for dinner. The hut was near two glacial ponds, mud-bottomed and studded with boulders We bathed ourselves in the cold water, then did our work and sat in front of the hut talking and waiting for dinner. . Longwe and Willow were staying as guests at the hut, and we chatted with them for awhile. One of the guests, a woman named Susan, gave us some wine to drink, and we passed the bottle amongst ourselves. Dinner finally came, great quantities of food, green beans and salad, bread, chili and hot coffee. A hiker named Powder River arrived, just in time for the meal. We ate and ate, talking loudly amongst ourselves, enjoying the good, hot food. The hutmaster had the guests leave before lights out, so we were able to set up our beds early, although we laid there on the tables chatting late into the night.