Redemption

The Appalachian Trail is like an exceptionally manipulative beautiful woman. She knows exactly how to play you, keeping you humbled by the rain, mud and otherwise abusive elements but ensures that you always come back for more with her often stunning beauty and random acts of kindness. After our days in the pouring rain I was through - so prepared to walk out of the Whites and good riddance. And then yesterday happened. 

We had the opportunity to slack pack the 22 miles from Pinkham Notch back to Gorham and, after the days that we had, that sounded like an amazing opportunity to just get it over with (since we had, I'm ashamed to admit, toyed with the idea of just skipping that section all together). We began our hike around 7:30am and things did not get off to a good start; before we even began our ascent up Wildcat Mountain (which I kept wanting to call Thudercat Mountain like that cartoon show with the warrior cat-people...Thundercats, assemble!) Red Knees slipped on a still wet rock, soaking his feet and falling hard on his ass. Following that we began a near vertical 2,000ft ascent up into the Wildcats, often crawling hand over hand up steep, rocky crevasses, but without packs it truly wasn't that bad. 

The day followed suit from there with a series of dramatic ups and downs over rocky terrain but by the time we had reached elevation the sun had broken through and managed to slightly tame the wind and with light loads the walking felt effortless. After a steep descent we arrived at the last hut in the Whites, Carter Notch Hut, which is situated on a beautiful lake, nestled back amongst the pine trees. The hut is the oldest on the AT, built in 1914 but still absolutely beautiful. There we treated ourselves to blueberry coffee cake and applesauce cake with caramel buttercream icing. After a brief chat with the hut master which was cut short by my anxious hiking buddies we pushed on for another near 2,000ft ascent up Carter Dome. 

Again, not that bad and the sun was still shining over clear skies - from Mt. Hight after Carter Dome you could see back to the Presidentials and, indeed, it was perfectly clear all the way to the top of Washington. Despite my jealousy over those with the privilege of summiting that day I was still elated to have the unbroken views of all of the peaks we had struggled over and the gaping Tuckerman's and Harriman's Ravines cutting swathes out of the side of the mountain. 

I should also mention that prior to leaving on our hike we had unofficially bet Bob, the owner of White Birches Campground, that we could be done with this challenging terrain in under 10 hours. Despite being slightly behind schedule this kept us moving forward at a good clip for the entire day. 

When we finally climbed Mount Moriah, the last true mountain in the Whites, I breathed a sigh of relief. All of the nervous energy, the fear and the apprehension flowed out of me in that moment: we had done the Whites. Or maybe they had done us. Either way we had made it through those pages on the map that I had feared for so long in one piece - a bit bruised but otherwise none the worse for wear. The rest of the hike was a 6 mile descent down into Gorham - smooth sailing. 

At the bottom of the hill we stopped briefly at Rattle River Shelter and the 300 mile to go mark on the AT. Under 300 miles - by the end of the day we would be at 298. My head was spinning. No more than a mile after the shelter we are walking along jamming to some music when a packless but gloriously bearded man rounded the bend. I recognized him immediately as Rock Ocean and I just about lost it. We had not seen him since Buena Vista, VA when he reunited us with Headstand and took us all in his wonderful blue Volkswagen camper van to Devil's Backbone Brewery. I dropped what little I was carrying and ran to hug him and immediately grilled him with questions of how the Tribe was doing (they are quickly approaching New Hampshire about 200 miles back). 

After Rock Ocean continued on his hike, Drop Bear - an older Australian man that we had done the slack pack with - asked if I had seen AWOL walk by with a GPS device. AWOL?! As in the author of the thru-hiker bible? Whose account of his hike on the trail was my first true information on what challenges lay ahead of me?! And they didn't interrupt my conversation?? I was still thrilled. What a day. 

We arrived at the parking lot a few minutes later and called up White Birches for a shuttle back to the campsite. While we waited for our ride, who should appear from the woods again but AWOL. I froze with nerves but thankfully Drop Bear, who had met him at trail days, called him over. We spent a few glorious minutes chatting with him, drinking Coca Colas he had in his car (we got trail magic from AWOL?! WHAT?! Best day ever!) before the van arrived. 

Once back at the campground we threw down our things and got ready to head out to go to Walmart for resupply when who should walk in? AWOL. Again. This guy just can't get enough of us! In all fairness he wanted to check out White Birches to update the bible for the coming year but still. I had the opportunity to show him my well loved (aka tattered) AWOL Guide and inform him that the topography line for the climb up to McAfee Knob is incorrectly steep. 

With our ride waiting we had to depart but I was still very much on cloud 9. We resupplied aggressively at Walmart and had a relaxing evening watching Avatar and eating all of the food we realized would be far too heavy to carry. 

Today we walk into Maine. After today there are no more states to check off, only miles to cover and then Katahdin. Lets do this.