Zeros for Heros

Everyone warned me that we would have to slow way down in the Whites - that our usual 20 mile days would be cut to 12 or fewer, 15 at most. And as much as I took what I was being told to heart, I really didn't believe them. 12 miles a day? Please. That's a good morning for us usually! The concept of having to slow down so drastically was so far beyond my comprehension that I largely dismissed it. Until yesterday. 

After a cozy night at the Hikers Welcome Hostel we woke up to the smell of bacon, eggs and blueberry pancakes wafting up the stairs. Foggy-eyed we stumbled down the stairs and enjoyed a hearty breakfast, needing the fuel to power us from Kinsman Notch all the way to Franconia Notch. Thankfully we had arranged to slack pack the 16 miles and to stay at Chet's Place that night - a "secret" word-of-mouth advertised hostel in Lincoln, NH. 

With our tiny backpack fully loaded and our packs ready to be dropped at our destination we headed out for Kinsman Notch. The climb in the beginning of the day was steep but manageable and we reached some kind of a ridgeline in good time. Though it looked relatively easy, the rolling, gradually ascending ridge up to Wolf Mountain was jagged and aggressive, sharply ascending and descending, catching us surprisingly off guard. At the top of Wolf Mountain we stopped to enjoy a beer that we had saved from the night before but the dark clouds were moving in towards us quickly so we knew we needed to move. 

Early in the day I began to feel a bit of tightening in my right shin so I shared this with Red Knees, telling him that I may need to slow down to stretch. Immediately his attitude towards me shifted only slightly but perceptibly. With the rain starting to fall there was nothing to be done except continue to hike on and push up Kinsman ridge to the top of the southern peak of Kinsman. 

The view from the top was lackluster as we sat surrounded entirely by cloud but the thickest air was that hanging between Red Knees and myself. Not wanting to bring it up, I desperately tried to be funny and excessively optimistic. I tried to commiserate. I tried being silent. But we continued our hail-pelted, view-less scramble down the vertical rock faces of north Kinsman in tense silence punctuated by occasional conversation or the smack of my trekking poles hitting the ground below as I threw them section by section down the mountain. 

At the bottom of the steep ascent about 13 miles into our day we finally arrived at our first of the AMC Huts - Lonesome Lake. The hut was beautiful with an incredible view of Lonesome Lake just down the hill. We stayed for a few minutes enjoying lemonade and eating the last of our snacks before more ominous clouds pushed us on down the last 3 miles along Cascade Brook Trail - the only section of the Appalachian Trail that I have previously hiked, two years previous with my family on a vacation up to Newfound Lake. There was something so comforting about knowing the trail, knowing where we had gotten lost before, knowing where we had struggled across a river or down a muddy slope. 

At the bottom of the hill we merged with dozens of tourists all out to mill about the bottom of the mountains and check out what sights there were to be seen from the one mile bubble surrounding their cars in the parking lot. In said parking lot we ran into Betterman and Smothers who were awaiting a pick up by OB to head back to Chet's - the same place where we intended to go. What luck. When OB arrived we piled in 6 deep to the tiny car and marinated in our own funk for about half an hour before arriving at the hostel. 

After dropping our things we headed down the street to a garden party being held by one of the neighbors to raise money for the local theatre that was, oh so generously, admitting hikers for free. We feasted on an amazing spread of fresh bread, pasta salad, fried chicken and salad and enjoyed a cocktail while watching live entertainment from the local theatre troupe. Tired and a bit wary of the drunk southbounders that were getting out of hand at the party, Red Knees, SoWay, Cliffnote and myself headed back to the hostel to claim our spaces.

After too much awkward silence had passed I finally lowered myself out of my chair and scooted over to Red Knees to try and hash out what was going on. To be honest I'm not even sure what he or I said but what it really boiled down to was fear of being out here alone. With a group you have a cushion - one person can fall back, another can get off trail and you still have some semblance of "group". We just have each other and for him to hear me talk about pain in my shin - an injury which previously took me off trail for a week - must have been petrifying. Hurt by what felt like rejection from my best friend (but which had dissipated by morning) I crawled back into my chair and tried to drift to sleep. 

Somewhere between sleep and awake the lights flicked back on and an officer walked through the basement with Chet to the back porch, looking for one of the Southbounders who had - after we had left the garden party - punched another hiker so violently in his drunken stupor that he was knocked unconscious. I don't know exactly what happened but I do know that there was screaming and I am shocked that any of us were allowed to remain at all. 

After a fitful night of sleep I awoke and moved from the chair/floor to a mattress that had been abandoned by and early riser and continued to rest. An hour later Red Knees lumbered over and we got up to begin a load of laundry and resupply. 

Once we were fully resupplied and ready to go we decided that a zero would be in our best interests - to let our knees and shins heal from our decidedly foolishly fast descent of Kinsman Mountain the day before. We spent the day walking through town, purchasing necessities at the outfitter, napping, writing post cards and attempting to compile a list of all of the trail angels that have aided us along the way (it took hours and so far the list is 50 people long - yikes!). Tomorrow we head back to Franconia Notch to tackle this next ridgeline. I am nervous for our first day in the Whites with a full back but thrilled for the views it promises to bring.