Date: 2020-09-12
From: Smarts Mountain Fire Wardens Cabin

To: Jeffers Brook Shelter
Miles today: 21.0

Very cold last night. Wore the gloves and long johns I had picked up in Hanover, along with the 20° quilt and fleece liner. Protected from the wind in the fire wardens cabin this setup was very comfortable. I was so comfy I rolled back over in the morning and didn't really wake up until 9. With the sun shining it was warmer on the porch than in the cabin so I went out to eat. Before waking I heard dayhikers walking by very early to catch the sunrise from the firetower.In the cabin's log were entries from Water Queen, Roam, and Strider, hikers I last saw near Bland, Virginia. They had skipped up to hike the north before Katahdin closes. The entries were from 12 days ago. Don't know if I'll catch them again. Smarts Mountain felt like the first of the White Mountains. Technically it's part of the White Mountain National Forest. Though at 3200 feet it's a minor peak. Still, that was tall enough to require a four mile long descent. By the time I started climbing the next peak, Mount Cube, I felt tired and out of sorts. Maybe thirsty or low on calories? I'd had a substantial breakfast: peanut butter, an apple, and half a bag of veggie chips. I sat near a creek, filled up the water bottle, and tried drinking more. Ultimately I think the five minute rest did more good. I don't often just sit during the day. Mount Cube felt even more like a White Mountain with boulders and bedrock climbs. Though it topped off at only 2900 feet. The upper reaches are primarily evergreen, but deciduous trees dominate most of the mountain. From the peak I could see blotches of red across the canvas of green hills.Another long descent, then over much smaller Ore Hill. There I looked in vain for the privy at Ore Hill Campsite. I am always amazed at how well hidden the privies are and how poor the signage. How about a specially blazed trail to help out hikers in an emergency - maybe brown? :PThe afternoon was fading as I reached route 25C. I was still six miles from the shelter. But there was a restaurant just a quarter mile up the road, the first convenient amenity in forty miles, that I was not going to pass up. The Greenhouse Restaurant has the feel of an English pub with a central bar surrounded by tables, some with families. A band was setting up for live music. A bunch of locals came and went, while the Merlin-bearded owner cum bartender held court, entertained, and bantered with his guests. In sharp contrast to Hanover, and more like everywhere else along the AT, rural New Hampshire seems to be indifferent to masks and the anxiety that still grips urban areas. In fact of all the dayhikers I passed today not one fumbled around trying to put on a mask when they saw someone coming. Contrast to northern Virginia, backyard of the DC suburbs, where dayhikers would not only walk around in masks but step off trail and turn their back to you without a word of greeting, like some sort of shunning. Anyway, these locals were my kind of people, friendly and down-to-earth.I put away a quesadilla and a small pizza before returning to the trail. I was barely over Mount Mist before darkness overcame the forest. I hiked the last four miles by headlamp. Night hiking has been another activity outside my comfort zone. But I've been doing more of it during this thruhike. Although with rough trail it requires more attention, it's also quite peaceful and absorbing. The evening was dry and cool, perfect weather for hiking. The stars were blazing as I crossed route 25 and then carefully rockhopped over Oliverian Brook. Some dayhikers (nighthikers?) passed headed for the road. Must have caught the sunset on Moosilauke. Some uphill brought me along Jeffers Brook to the shelter which, fortunately, was empty. No fear of disturbing anyone at this hour. I could see lights from a tent in the trees. After I was settled in a new hiker came around with a headlamp but apparently opted to tent.