Picking Up The Pace

I hate the tail. I love the trail. The trail provides and the trail taketh away. The trail is serene and honest, the trail is aggressive and unpredictable. But, for all it's schizophrenia, the trail brings together some of the most fantastic and wonderful people that are, ultimately, what keeps you going 99% of the time. 

After our short day in the boulder pit of Mahoosuc Notch we decided to do a solid 15 miles to get us into Andover. Descending the first mountain, however, I began to have the familiar twinge in my right shin and my mind began to race, repeating an internal mantra of "no, no, no, PLEASE no". When we arrived at the parking lot at the bottom of the mountain 5 miles into our day I immediately sat down and began to rub the afflicted area, hoping it was just a fluke. 

When Danno finally arrived at the bottom of the mountain and mentioned severe knee pain and we heard word of rapidly approaching thunderstorms we decided to call it a Nero and head into Andover from the parking lot. Thankfully, Pippin's dad and brother were there and were able to take us about halfway before dropping us off at an intersection. Before we could even throw out a thumb a woman in a red truck pulled over and asked if we needed a ride to town. That was easy. 

We went straight in to the center of the sleepy town of Andover, passed the "we can do it all" General Store (also functions as a restaurant, movie rental store and a gas station) and arrived at the Pine Ellis Inn - an old home that has been converted to a hostel for hikers. 

After removing our shoes on the porch we took the grand tour of the house and we nearly skipped with bliss and excitement when we saw our room: these weren't bunks, these were proper beds with actual linens. LINENS. We didn't have to sleep in our sleeping bags?! This was an AT miracle. 

We spent the day lounging around, doing laundry, getting clean and watching the rain fall outside while we let our tired and bruised bodies rest. As the day went on more and more hikers arrived including Whistler, Timex and Chaos who I was sure were ages ahead of me. 

The next day we set out early with the intention of covering about 16 miles. The Baldplate Mountains were exposed and windy on top and we were instantly thankful that we hadn't attempted to summit them in the rain. The descent off them was, despite the lack of rain presently, still slick and treacherous so it was yet another slow climb down for Red Knees and myself (Whistler, Chaos and Timex had sped ahead - little monkeys). 

When we reached the first shelter we rejoined with the speed demons and had a snack. After an hour went by and Danno hadn't joined us we began to worry so we headed on down to the road. There, Dave - the older Native American man who works for Pine Ellis - was waiting for Danno who would be calling it another short day (and he had in tow my headphones which I had carelessly left behind). 

I think it was me that proposed that we slack pack from there to the next road, adding 4 miles but taking away 30lbs each from our day. It didn't take much convincing, especially after negotiating the slack pack down to $4 per person with Dave. We threw our packs in the van, grabbed a snack and a water bottle each and headed out. 

The first 6 of the 10 miles were a cinch. Gradual ups and downs (but mostly ups) on a dirt path leading to the next shelter. We stopped briefly to enjoy the shelter and eat our snacks before heading down to tackle Moody Mountain - a near vertical mile-long ascent. I've been looking at the topography map of this one nervously for at least a month now. 

Without packs it was tough but manageable and we finished the four miles by 6:00pm sharp as planned to meet Dave with our packs. The day had come from me hating the trail on the way up Baldplate - telling RK how much I was looking forward to being home and maybe we should yellow blaze? - to laughing and joking as we forded rivers at the end of a very successful 20 mile day. Plus we (well, I) found a beautiful patch of black trumpet mushrooms on the trail that would have done The French Laundry proud. This called for some beers.

Thankfully Dave was obliging and offered to drive me into town to pick up some beers for our group. The air was cold so we promptly made a fire and enjoyed beers while we all made dinner and discussed/argued the difference between graffiti artists and street artists. Eventually we ran out of daylight, beer and firewood so we called it a night. 

I am truly ready for the adventure to come to an end, it becomes more and more clear every day, but I still can find ways to enjoy it and that makes all the difference. As I said before - thank goodness for these people.