jpm

The final stretch

Ahh, the hustle and bustle of New Hampshire's White Mountains--the day-hikers and weeekenders; the crowded huts and tentsites; the awesome panoramic views atop four and five-thousand-foot peaks. The Christmas-like smells of pine forests just below treeline and cold apline lakes and stunning vistas and cool breezes upon the summits are a welcome prize for our trek trough the sweat and humidity and bugs of the mid-Atlantic states.

We are, at last, in the mountians where I learned to love hiking. As I write this post atop Mt. Webster (1,832.9 miles/3,910'), I can see giant Mt. Washington to the north and the summits of Mt. Adams and Jefferson--both I hiked as a kid with Big Brothers Big Sisters. Looking to the south and out over Franconia Ridge, I can see Mt. Liberty and Lafayette, Little Haystack and Lincoln, Mt. Garfield and South Twin--all 4,000' peaks and for the first time on this long journey, above treeline.

Since passing out of New York and into Connecticut and New England, the trail has weaved trough the beautiful alpine zones and rock ledges and vistas that I know and love. In the home state, I brought Dad from Dalton to Williamstown and up over Mt. Greylock (1,572.0 miles). At 3,491', it is the tallest peak in the Berkshires and the first with any sort of view since Virginia, maybe.

Although it was hazy and clouded for us, the lookout from the top of its War Memorial would have shown the Green and White Moutnains and even Canada. I was repaid several days later for that lost view on Greylock with the most amazing sunset I've seen yet on the trail--atop Mt. Bromley (1,639.8 miles/3,260'), just north of Manchester Center, VT. The still ski-lift and wild green grass and brilliant purple flowers and surrounding 360-degree view reflected the last rays of sun that day in a way I know my camera won't be able to show. It was perfect.

In Hanover, NH (1,732.7 miles) the trail passed by high-end shops and restaurants catering to the Dartmouth College crowd. So we stood out--trudgeing through with muddy boots and big beards and a "slight" aroma. Though after two years of being stared-at in Ukraine, it was business as usual.

Stu Peoples, the director of Big Brothers Big Sisters of Cape Cod, my former boss and long time friend, hiked 17 miles from Hanover to Lyme, NH (1,750.3 miles) with three boys from the BBBS program. After yelling at the boys for throwing rocks off a cliff and sticks at each other, Shasta remarked that she'd never heard me yell before. I told her she probably wouldn't again, unless she started throwing sticks at Chardonnay--ha ha.

A few days later, Hot Springs and I washed dinner dishes and swept the dinning room at Lonesome Lake Hut (1,799.0 miles) in exchange for food and a warm floor to sleep on. The "Croo" there told us that the dishes we did were excessively clean. Hot Springs informed them that, if wanted, we could kick it up a notch and make the dishes unessecarily clean :)

We did work-for-stay at Ethan Pond Shelter (1,826.7 miles) and Nauman Tentsite (1,836.0 miles) as well. At Madison Springs Hut (1,847.8 miles), my work for stay involved simply finishing off a big bowl of corn. When I asked what else I could do, I was told "The only thing I want from you is to finish that corn!" Ok. You see, all the food that isn't finished has to be packed-out several miles to the road. So the fewer leftovers, the better.

And then there was Cut, who hiked fearlessly above treeline along Franconia Ridge and the most beautiful stretch of trail yet with Hot Springs and I. He did this, I might add, with the kind of G.I. Joe or Alvin and the Chipmunks sleeping bag all our parents bought us all when we were children. His happened to be a groovy 1974 plaid.

Surprisingly, though, it kept him warm. And it was cold up there. We were in hats and gloves and fleece. Mouse wondered, if it was this cold in August, what was it like in January. I told him January is a good month for staying inside.

So we made it through the Whites with beautiful, albiet chilly, weather.We now have 297 miles to go--about three weeks. After almost five months on the trail, that seems like nothing. But these last three weeks will be exciting. Maine is considered by many to be the most beautiful state. If it's more stunning than New Hampshire then I can't wait.

So, until next time, Donkey (LOVE) is in Gorham, NH and about to enter the final state on the Appalachian Trail.

Posted by jpm at August 19, 2006 03:50 PM