"Remote for detachment, narrow for chosen company, winding for leisure, lonely for contemplation, it beckons not merely north and south but upwards to the body, mind and soul of man."
-Myron Avery
Start: Mt Washington Summit
Stop: Pinkham Notch
Today: 13.4 miles
Total: 13.4 miles
After arriving in Gorham on the 28th, we visited some of our favorite spots and then got to the hotel. It was very strange when we found ourselves checked into the very same room that we ended our journey in last summer (happy accident) and gave us the feeling that we never left the trail. We spilled out our gear on the bed and played hiker Tetris as we tried to fit way too much gear in way too small a space. Next, we made for the Walmart to buy the food that would sustain us during our first few days on the trail. Near the back of the parking lot we passed a handful of RVs and pop-up campers whose brave occupants created a campsite out of the Walmart parking lot.
My shopping list included trail mix, pop tarts, air heads, snickers and peanut butter. The only other demographic that might willingly eat this diet would be an 8-year old but I'll be burning 5000 calories a day climbing over these high peaks and with such little pack space, energy density is vital. Finally, we enjoyed some of our last, lazy time while looking forward to the next month.
On July 30th, Day 1 of this Summer's adventure, we left for Pinkham Notch where we took a shuttle to the summit of Mt Washington. Since I've climbed this mountain about 15 times and due to our schedule, we decided not to re-climb it. The benefit of climbing such a tall mountain is that you acclimate to the weather. As you get higher in elevation the temperature drops and winds pick up. The old growth trees around you will change from full size to ones that are smaller than a shrub. Many people would blame the high winds for this but the actual culprit is a growing season of just a few weeks each year (hope I didn't put you to sleep).
Since we took the shuttle to the top, when we stepped out of the van we were shocked by the bitter cold, moist fog and 35 degree wind chill. I shot into the summit building to put pants and a thicker shirt on and immediately set off on the Gulfside Trail (AT). I've had good luck with weather on this mountain but the statistics were against us today (the summit is blanketed with fog over 200 days a year). We were instantly reminded just how tough it is to scramble over sharp boulders and slanted ledges in the cold wind.
We soon descended below the blanket of clouds and made our way past Mt Clay. Without the shroud of fog I admired 50 miles of blue green mountains in all directions. Despite the pain of sharp stones biting my feet and the constant work of following the trail, the beauty of this place is unrivaled. As I walked past golden alpine grasses dancing in the wind, I admired the giant peaks of stone and spruce. I feel as if I'm walking through a painting only the colors and textures are more vivid than I imagined they could be. I feel at peace here; at home. Edward abbey once said "there are many such places. Every man, every woman carries in heart and mind the image of the ideal place, the one true home, known or unknown, actual or visionary."
We followed the cairns past Mt Jefferson and skirted north of Mt Adams. I was now exposed to a constant stream of wind so I quickly continued to Madison Spring Hut, with Flicka trailing behind. I hadn't seen Flicka for about a mile when she walked into the hut. I could see pain written all over her face. Whether it was the constant beating on hard rocks or a fall she had taken earlier, her right knee was in terrible pain.
After a brief rest and despite Heather's knee we headed over Mt Madison and through the Great Gulf Wilderness, hoping to beat nightfall. We soon descended from the alpine gardens into Spruce and Fur country below. With every mile the trees grew taller and finally, as the sun was sinking beyond the green silhouettes of mountains, we made it back to Pinkham Notch. Heather was a real trooper but I could see the tears welling in her eyes screaming of pain and fearful of a short lived journey.
- Daddy Long Legs
