Date: 2021-07-15
From: Madison Spring But (mile 327.2)

To: Nauman Tentsite (mile 339.0)
Miles today: 12.0
Weather: mist

The Madison hut was busy with activity shortly after six. Breakfast was at seven: oatmeal, eggs, bacon, and pancakes. A great lineup, but the croo is not at all good at refilling empty plates. Our table ran out of bacon and pancakes - Alias got none at all - even as other table had leftovers. I've heard this from other guests before, where certain dishes disappeared before they made it around the table. Poet at Shaw's hostel would never let the bacon run out. And he's charging a fraction of the hut's 120 bucks a night.The company was amiable, the vibe more like airport travelers forced to share a table than hikers with a common mission. I returned to my bunk to pack, the thin mattress adequate but hardly worth the price of admission. Huts in the Alps are far cheaper and more comfortable than these, I'm told. The croo here is paid peanuts (they do a skit with the sole purpose of asking for tips), and the food and amenities are bare bones, so nearly all that cash goes to the AMC. They seem to spend very little on trail maintenance, the reason the organization was founded. No doubt like many flush non-profits much of it goes to fund salaries, lucrative insider contracts, and all kinds of non-core missions the leadership indulges in for publicity. It's not nicknamed the Appalachian Money Club for nothing. Yet thousands of people come every year and many make it a tradition. Beach Day and Joseph hiked up from Valley Way tentsite after a mostly dry night, and we headed around Mt Adams to Mt Jefferson. Several hikers were out doing the Presidential Traverse, a one day and 22 mile hike across all the peaks in the range. Clouds rolled through the valley below and across the peaks, obscuring and revealing vistas all the way to Mt. Washington. The trail is almost entirely rocks. In most places they lay naturally, though at least around Mt. Clay they've been arranged almost like pavers. A forest service trail crew was out quarrying and placing rocks on a short stretch of dirt trail that they determined to be overly impacted. It seems comical, that a crew is actually throwing more rocks on the trail, making the often heard joke or lament among hikers a reality. Joseph and I reached the cog railway below Mt. Washington, passing a white-bearded man hiking from Key West to Canada, the Eastern Continental Trail. It's 5400 miles and ends in Newfoundland. Maybe by the time he gets there the border will be reopened. Punisher and Boppit, who I met in the Chairbacks, were doing the same route but after reaching Katahdin ended up jumping over to Montana to hike the CDT southbound instead.It's thruhiker tradition to moon the cog train as it carries tourists to or from the summit. Joseph wasn't up for it and I wasn't wild about doing it on my own so we waved to several cars until Alias and Beach Day showed up. Beach Day was down for a show, but the cars had stopped for awhile so we waited and ate. Finally a train appeared, we waved and, once we had their attention, showed a little more than they expected! Another item checked off the bucket list. We got a glimpse of a man on the train cracking up as it pulled away. The Washington summit had the usual mob of car and train tourists, with the added wrinkle that the train we'd just mooned was unloading its passengers. All of whom immediately cued up for a picture with the summit sign. Having no patience to wait in line with folks who took a ten minute scenic ride to scale a mountain we'd spent two days climbing, Beach Day and I grabbed a selfie with the sign and its mob in the background and went on to the more important business of exploring the offerings of the cafeteria. As we left a lady whispered to another "I think it was them!"While I was downing a hot dog and some clam chowder in the cafeteria someone yelled out "Valley Forge!" I turned, expecting to see some SOBO I may have passed recently. But instead it was a familiar bearded face I never thought I'd randomly see in the Mount Washington Visitor Center. It was Belch, and his wife Hangin', who I'd hiked with for several days in 2019 in Tennessee before completing the AT for the first time in Damascus. I'd later driven out to meet them in Boiling Springs, but soon after that they ended their hike so Hangin' could return to her teaching job. They had overcome tragedy in their lives before the trail. But then, just ten days after I left them in Damascus, they'd survived an attack by a crazed hiker that took the life of a hiker named Stronghold and seriously injured another. That they continued hiking to Pennsylvania after this near-death experience between police interviews and trial dates is incredible by itself. Now they have picked up the hike from where they left off and are one state away from finishing. They looked beaten down by the Whites, or by two months on trail, but they were determined to press on and finish. It's amazing the pull the AT has on people. A goal that is achievable but often seems impossible is very difficult to resist once you emotionally invest in it. The difficulty itself makes it seem necessary to accomplish, lest you disappoint yourself. Also in the cafeteria was a woman wearing a pageant-style ribbon across her chest that proclaimed she'd just finished climbing the 48 high peaks in New Hampshire. I went over to congratulate her. Her husband had finished in November, and her daughter had flown in from Seattle to hike this last one with her. Up here thruhiking is only one of several extreme mountain pastimes.As I descended Mount Washington to catch up with the tramily, passing dozens of tourists brave enough to venture away from the parking lot, the gray cloud that had hung over Washington all this time opened up and let loose a squall of large, stinging raindrops that soaked everything and felt like hail. The saying here is if you don't like the weather then wait a minute. Sure enough, less than ten minutes later the rain had stopped, the sun was out, and I had passed into dry ground. Washington seems to have a perpetual cloud hanging over it even when the rest of the range is clear. Joseph and I took a short side trail to the upper Lake of the Clouds where we swam from a private rocky shore. This was certainly my most iconic swim of this hike. A nationally-known glacial pond at nearly 6000 feet with hordes of casual hikers passing a few dozen yards away over a small rise. But for ten minutes no one else came down so I got to skinnydip and keep the shorts dry-ish. The bottom drops off sharply ten yards from shore into an unknowably deep pool. From beneath the surface the water is a deep azure blue reminiscent of the Caribbean. Of course it was fairly cold, but not uncomfortably so. After drying off we visited the nearby hut, but not for food. We were still full from the cafeteria.I hiked out from Lakes of the Clouds hut with Joseph to explore the Southern Presidentials. We followed the Crawford Path and took side loops over Mounts Monroe, Little Monroe, Franklin, Eisenhower, and Pierce. Met a female ultrarunner from Virginia doing the traverse in one day. The sky was clear and the views were excellent over the rocky alpine landscape.At Mizpah Springs hut it was too late to get soup or cake, so we scouted out tent spots in the Nauman tentsite nearby. Adam, the caretaker we'd met at Imp, had left this morning but Autumn was here to help. The tentsite has a dozen wooden platforms, most occupied, and is still cluttered with scores of blow downs, so dirt spots are hard to find. Joseph struggled to set up his Duplex on a platform. As a trekking pole tent it requires tension to stand up, and the platform offered few tie-down points. Rocks were the best option to pin down the guylines. I found the dirt spot I used last year where Alias had already dropped his pack. But as a hammocker he had more flexibility so he graciously shared the area with me. A church group from Toledo had several tents near me. They've brought city kids to experience the mountains and have been hiking around the Presidentials for 4 days, including the very steep Tuckerman Ravine trail. The kids seemed to be doing well, and I told one this was some of the most difficult hiking around, which seemed to please him. Another large group arrived, and Autumn sent three guys with a four person tent to set up on Joseph's platform. We tried to make it work, but his rock anchor was in the way and their tent was too big. Moving the anchor would have collapsed the tent. Eventually a dirt spot was found for them back in the woods.The three of us and Beach Day went over to the hut to see about dinner leftovers - lasagna was on the menu! - but the croo hadn't eaten yet. Two other tenters were right behind us with the same idea and camped out in the dining hall to wait. They didn't look like thruhikers, and the leftovers I saw didn't look like enough would survive the croo dinner for more than a couple servings. So we filtered back to our tents, content with our packed food for tonight. The night was very calm and I fell asleep quickly.