My Hammock

Getting ready to pack up the hammock and head toward the White Mountains today. I have been able to see this beautiful range for the past few days, growing more intimidating the closer I get. I can't wait to be scrambling across those towering steep ridges.

The weather in the Whites can be unpredictable and change with little warning. Its highest peak, Mount Washington, is said to have the worst weather in the world. It's sure to be as challenging as it will be breathtakingly beautiful.

(Also, This is the first time I've had cell phone reception when not on a mountain top, so I hope to be able to finally post more frequently.)

Home Sweet Home

We made it out of our first state a few days ago, completing about 300 of 2,181 miles. We decided to take three nights off in Gorham, NH before heading into the White Mountains, the last 100 miles of the most difficult stretch on the AT. This trail is rarely easy, but we will be able to do more daily miles after the Whites. We planned on only taking two days off here, but we have had such a great time that we agreed if we could find a place to stay for free we'd stay a third night. We did... an inconspicuous spot behind this old closed bank. Hey, there is a roof over our heads and it is Duncan Donuts adjacent, that's more than good enough.

Even though I have money for a hotel, I strangely prefer this. Hotels provide temporary comfort, but crashing behind an abandoned building (or in a public baseball field dugout in Andover for that matter) gives me an experience I will talk about for the rest of my life. It's wonderfully amazing how simple life can be if you want it to be.

A Rundown of the Last Few Days

 
The last few days have been amazing. I would love a day with my laptop and wifi to tell you about it, but that's harder than I anticipated. I'll be able to write more when I'm further south.
Here's a rundown of the last few days: scrambled thru the Mahoosuc Notch (supposedly the hardest mile on the AT, but the most fun so far), met a very generous woman in a grocery store that let us spend a night in her lakehouse (with a hot tub under a full moon), swam alone (other than 2 loons) right after sunrise in a fog covered lake, slept in a baseball field dugout after hitching to town for food and failing to get a ride back (we played invisible softball at 2 AM, of course), climbed Old Speck Mountain at night and got caught in a storm, took a nap in front of a general store. Watched tonight's sunset on a windy evening, huddled around 3 people I've known for a month, but feel as close to as anyone I've ever known. And right now I'm on a mountain I can't name, staring at the night sky.

Saddleback Mountain Range

Climbing a mountain is the best part of waking up. Not cheap coffee.

So yesterday at lunch I chipped a molar. Not the best timing I suppose. Not in any pain though, so I'll keep going until I get to a town that is big enough to have a dentist.

I've decided that instead of going by the trail name Cam, I'm going to use a new name everytime I meet someone. Last night I met a Northbounder.

"What are your trail names?" he asked.

"I'm Chip Drifter, D.D.S."

Stratton Motel

Leaving Stratton. Resupplied and belly is full. Already lost 16 lbs. It's impossible to eat enough food. The next 110 mile section is considered by most thru-hikers to be the hardest of the whole trail. In about two weeks the trail will get easier, so I should be able to do more miles.

We met up with the girls yesterday, so the whole group is back together again.

Appalachian Trail Day 2: Hurd Brook

Entering the 100-Mile Wilderness

Our first river ford


 Red and I at a waterfall that I forget the name of...

Maine's root and rock covered trails

Refilling my  water


I know the tree was probably a sapling when the rock was perhaps moss and dirt covered, then grew long roots to the ground below, but I like to think it was just a tired old tree who wanted to sit down for a while.

This is where we met Thumper and Bambi.  The older couple was from France, we saw them a few times, but could never communicate with them.  Someone later told me they were feeling kind of lonely on the trail since they were around so many people, but couldn't talk to them.  I wish I would have learned a few French phrases, they were very nice people.

Appalachian Trail Day 1: Photos from Mount Katahdin

Planning our hike up Mount Katahdin, the Northern Terminus of the Appalachian Trail.

My first white blaze


Alex and Red heading up Katahdin

Moccasin heading up Katahdin

The higher we climbed, the colder, windier, and rainier it became.


The wind gusts were strong enough to blow you off these boulders

Taking a break from the wind.


Another break from the wind 

The Katahdin summit and the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail. 

Me at the summit. Only 2,181 miles to go.

Group shot


Heading back down



Our first AT shelter


Pleasant Pond Mountain

A cool breeze just isn't the same as when you climb a mountain to get to it. I'm very happy with my decision to do this. Since I boarded the train, I have not had a moment of regret. Even when I was on Moxie Bald last night in a thunderstorm. The sky was bright and blue on the way up. The storm clouds were hiding on the other side. The lightning began to strike as soon as I was on top of the bald. Exactly where you don't want to be when thunder cracks above your head.

I ran below treeline and the downpour came down so hard it turned the trail to a stream in minutes. I sloshed through one and three quarter miles of mud and water to the next shelter, while singing the Pearl Jam song, Driftin':

Drifting, drifting, drifting away.
I got myself a mansion, then I gave it away.
It's not the world that's heavy, just the things that you save.
And I'm drifting, drifting away.

Drifting, drifting, drifting along.
I rid myself of worries, and the worries were gone.
I only run when I want to and I sleep like a dog.
I'm just drifting, drifting along.

The suitcoats say, 'There is money to be made.'
They get so damn excited, nothing gets in their way
My road it may be lonely just because it's not paved.
It's good for drifting, drifting away.

Drifting, drifting, drifting, along.
I feel like going back there, but never for long.
I sometimes wonder if they know that I'm gone.
I'm just drifting, drifting along.

Crossroads

At a crossroad. Bambi is having bad foot problems that will take at least a couple days to heal enough to move on. I gave her my backup lightweight trail running shoes to replace her boots (luckily I have the feet of a petite 18 year old girl). I think that will help. We are trying to decide how we can stay together and give her time to heal. I think the girls will shuttle ahead a few days and wait for us. We formed a great little family here. We are all too attached to each other to want to split up right now. We've been through a lot, it would be nice to reach Springer together.

Just about ready to hit the trail. We have 75 miles to Stratton, ME before our next resupply.
(In the photo, Mock-a-Son eating a block of cheese, Red with a pint of Ben & Jerry, and Bambi)