Date: 2005-08-31
From: Madison Hut 

To: Pinkham Notch
Miles today: 7.8
Weather: fog

Day four in the Presidential Range - a most memorable day indeed!As one of my prehike entries, I did a list of the top ten reasons I was hiking the AT. Starting at the bottom, the tenth reason was to store up memories for the old folks home. The number one reason, taken from a recent country western song, was to "live like I am dyin'."   Today's hike reminded me of both of those objectives.My plan for today was to get into Pinkham Notch, a hike of about 8 miles. The first half mile was a steep up to the summit of Mount Madison, followed by a mile of exposed ridge - actually consisting of a series of ups and downs over various peaks, eventually descending again to treeline, followed by a 3,000 foot steep down over the next two miles, and then 4.5 miles of a more gradual down, crossing a number of streams.I had heard last night that we would be getting the effects of the most recent hurricane during the day today, so I skipped breakfast this morning in order to get an early start.I left the hut about 6:45, half an hour before the daily weather report was due on the AMC hut radio-phone. It had rained hard for much of the night, but wasn't raining that hard when I began the climb up Madison. It was a pretty steep climb, and it got windier the higher I climbed, so I wasn't moving very fast. It took me 45 minutes to do that first half mile.Once I reached the top, the winds really began to pick up, making it hard to go very fast over the wet rocks. The rain also began to pick up, and before long, it was blowing sideways.The trail was reasonably well marked with cairnes, but with lots of side trails intersecting the AT route, and with the AT itself following first one local trail and then another. I was extremely careful to double check my guide book every time, which paid off for me but cost another couple of hikers behind me to go astray down a wrong trail for awhile.As the winds continued to grow in intensity, my pack cover snapped and crackled like those playing cards we used to attach to our bikes with clothes pins to make them sound like motorcycles. I had tightened it down really well, so it didn't blow off, but the rain was driven so furiously by the wind that it didn't actually keep the water out of my pack. Fortunately, the trash bag liner on the inside kept my gear dry, but others weren't so lucky. At least 2 hikers behind me lost their pack covers due to the wind.Before I had gone very far, it was clear to me that the worst was yet to come, and I could only hope that the weather report would cause the rest of the hikers at the hut to stay put. It also became clear to me that the safest thing to do was to keep moving north, as each subsequent peak was somewhat lower than the previous one, and every foot it that direction would get me one foot closer to the treeline and relative safety.The problem was that, by now, the wind was so fierce, I could no longer stand up. The last time I tried that, it picked up me and my pack and threw me into the cairn I was trying to get past!So the only way to move forward was on my hands and knees - crawling up the rocks to the next peak, turning myself around, and then crawling backwards down over the rocks off the peak. Needsless to say, it was slow going. Because I was being extremely careful, I somehow wasn't that worried about falling, and as I was able to keep moving in the right direction (even if only 12 inches at a time)I knew that I would eventually reach safety.At the same time, however, it was truly exhileratng to feel the raw power of nature so vividly displayed - this is as up close and personal as it gets. All alone on this incredible ridge, almost pinned to the rocks by the wind, the rain feeling like sand from a sandblaster when it hit my cheeks as I looked back to see where to put my foot next - and all I could think about was how cool it was to be there, facing that challenge, feeling so very alive, and only occasionlly, and fleetingly, wondering what in the hell I'd gotten myself into THIS time. I might have been more concerned if the temperature were an issue, but it was not. Even with the wind chill factor, I was perfectly comfortable. In a worst case scenario, if the winds got too strong to keep moving, I was confident I could find a way to hunker down behind a couple of sheltering rocks and outlast it if I had to. Fortunately, I was able to keep going, and eventually could begin to see small bits of ground cover, then larger bits, and then, finally, to make out the denser green of dwarf pine trees, the harbringer of safety for ol' Private Longhaul.When I reached the cover of trees on both sides of the trail, I was finally able to stand up and hike almost normally for the first time in two miles. It had taken me three hours to do the one mile of ridgeline, but I had made it - and I was alive! I felt great!My euphoria carried me over the next two miles of steep down, as at least I didn't have to worry about being blown off a mountain, but it was still slow going all the way down. Finally, the trail leveled off, and I was able to actually hike for a change. I assumed I was "out of the woods" so to speak. Wrong again....The map and guide book had indicated that the AT crossed a number of "brooks" before reaching Pinkham Notch. By then, however, it had been raining all night and half the day, so these were no longer little brooks. No, these were now roaring, crashing, thrashing, angry torrents of muddy water, hell-bent on getting off the mountain in the most direct means possible. Not to mention being fully capable of taking a careless hiker or two with them if said hikers failed to exercise the proper level of respect.I was VERY respectful, but I have to say that I was far more worried about the last two crossings than I was about that wind up on the ridge. From the top of the ridge on, I was thoroughly drenched, of course, so wading through a torrent of water wasn't going to get me any etter, but it was still a bit un-nearving to be stepping into water that swirled up and around your knees, feeling carefully with first one foot, then the other, for a safe rock to step on next.Obviously, I made it through safely, and am happy to report that I am now once again clean, dry, and well fed. It was also kind of fun to compare notes with the other hikers as they came in, as we'd all had similar experiences. Some said it had been one of the scariest days of their ife. Yeah, but it sure was memorable!Stay tuned, LonghaulSent via PocketMailEmail Anywherewww.pocketmail.com