Date: 2004-08-16
From: Elizer Brook Shelter

To: Franconia Notch
Miles today: 8.8
Weather: light rain

It started raining around 4am and kept up past 6. I took my time getting going in hopes it would either stop or at least warm up. By 7am I had completed the metamorphosis from warm and cozy in sleeping bag to hiking in the rain in just shorts and t-shirt. I had just crossed the brook that ran past the shelter when one of the six other women called me back. She held out a bandana and asked if it was mine. It was not, but by the dog theme on it I guessed it was Polar's and took it to give to her in the evening.The path to the top of Kinsman Mountain led mostly up a rock jumble straight up the side of the mountain for hundreds of feet, interrupted by smooth slabs and steep ledges. I took my time, placing my feet carefully to avoid slipping on the wet stone.The rain stopped but I went up into a cloud. Near the top the trees shrank to dwarf size and there was an eerie quiet. Beyond the treetops was nothing but white. At the summit was a small treeless zone covered with moss, lichen, succulants and other dwarfed plants. Once my head was above the trees the silence was replaced by the rustle of wind past my ears. The fog gave a profound sense of aloneness.Making my way down from the south peak a jab of pain in my right knee warned me and I took my weight off it before the cartilege shifted enough to dislocate the joint like it had back in Virginia. Holding that foot off the ground I flexed the knee cautiously to check for damage then carefully started off again. The rough going made me very worried about wrecking my knee high up the mountain and being unable to get down and no way to summon help. Hiking alone in remote wilderness could be a nerve-wracking business but there was nothing to do but keep going as carefully as possible.I found a grouse in a small clearing right next to the Trail. Rather than running away it simply gazed at me. Something in the way it looked at me reminded me of my very affectionate pet cockatiel back home and I found myself missing her. Out of the blue I burst into tears. That bit of homesickness was enough to make the mix of strain, fatigue and isolation boil over. I laughed briefly at my reaction then went back to crying again. The grouse impassively watched me blubbering. After a bit I pulled myself together and headed along the boggy saddle to the north peak.The descent from north Kinsman was not as rocky or steep as the ascent had been but going down was trickier than climbing. My knee nearly went again, this time with a lingering soreness warning me that the joint capsule had been hrt and to be even more careful to avoid a more serious occurance.Finally I arrived at Lonesome Lake Hut, the first of the chain of huts the AMC maintains in the White Mountains. It has a hexagonal kitchen/dining area and what must be a sleeping wing. Inside, I got a bottomless bowl of nice hot mushroom soup. It is amazing how a good meal makes everything right in the world! Just past the lake I ran into blueberries, the first I had seen in the Whites. Savoring them finished putting me back in a good mood.After the hut the Trail was a bit less rugged and I made faster progress to the Road at Franconia Notch. I was hesitant about hitching a ride on the Interstate so I hiked another mile along a side trail to Hwy 3 at the Flume Visitor Center. Car after car went past me and I feared I'd have to walk the whole 5 miles to North Woodstock. It occurred to me that I was at least as vulnerable walking along the road as trying to hitch a ride, but there was no way around it. There are some spots along the trail where supplies are miles away from the trail and this was one of them. I got about a mile down the road before a pickup pulled over to give me a ride. I put my pack and poles in the bed and got into the front seat with relief.I got to the post office just in time to get my food shipment that I had sent from Hanover. Nearby was a motel where I got a room. I put my pack in the room then went straight to the Woodstock Inn with the lost bandana. Sure enough, it belonged to Polar and she was glad to have it back. I was glad to do a bit of the same Trail Magic that got my hat back when I lost it a few weeks ago.I had supper, bought a sandwich and pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream and a quart of chocolate milk for later then did a load of laundry.The weather forecast says tomorrow will be sunny, so it will be time to head back up into the next stretch of the White Mountains.