It was again too cold this morning to get out of bed when the alarm was screaming at us. We snuggled in until 7a. I sleep with my clothes in the sleeping bag so they are warm. Warthog does too, but he puts them in the toe box bag. I use my clothes as a sort of knee pillow. Mine came out warm to the touch.

 

Our first 2.5 miles flew by. They took us to a shelter just off of the trail, which we all desperately wanted to stop at. On the spur (side) trail to the shelter, you were rewarded with an incredible view of a mountain resting on a lake. There was a mother and her young son sitting on a boulder at the edge of the lake. She was teaching him how to draw and filter water. She urged him to get closer. As he shifted he said, “I am… I’m just trying to get comfortable. Ugh… Backpacking is not comfortable.” I laughed out loud. He’s so right, it’s not.

 

We spent a lot of the next several miles working our way down the mountain. When we arrived at the parking lot, we saw a group of hikers we know. A previous thru-hiker named Stitches was giving out some trail magic; root beer and sweets. We sat and chatted for a while. She was taking her friend Felix and the two with him, Eleven and Daze, to get hamburgers. They offered for us to join. We politely declined. We hope to get in sixteen miles today. There’s no way that’ll happen if we get burgers.

 

After that, the trail went up and up and up. I started to freak out a bit. I can’t remember if I’ve written this here before or not. I know I’ve said it many times. The trail sometimes makes me feel like I’m bipolar. It’s a sentiment that’s been echoed by many of my thru-hiking friends. Sometimes we have incredible highs out here, which can be quickly followed by incredible lows. Lately, I’ve felt low. It’s the climbing. The climbing is destroying my resolve. However, I know fully well that the only reason I get those highs, the moments on the mountain tops and the views that come with them, is because of the climbing. So I climb. Sometimes I have to reset my brain with podcasts or music. Anything to take my mind off of the tedious climbing. Today I used music. It took me to a much better place, allowing me to be more centered and happy.

We had lunch at an overlook in the middle of all of the uphill climbing. It offered views of the valley below and the mountain across from it. A train cut its’ way across the side of the mountain. Then the rest of the afternoon was more climbing. Some of it was more rock scrambling.

Around 4:30p we hit a hut. As we arrived another thru-hiker came through. We introduced ourselves. His name is Ricky Bobby. I thought I recognized him, so I had to ask if he was who I thought he was. Funny thing, Warthog and I got to see Ricky Bobby talk back in Grand Rapids about his previous thru-hike on the Pacific Crest Trail. Additionally, on a spring hike in northern Michigan, we saw him sign a trail register the same day we were out. It was incredible to run into him. He’s much faster than us, more than twice as fast. If we see him again on the trail, I expect it’ll only be once more.

The four of us pushed on to the next hut called Lake of the Clouds. It’s only 1.5 miles from the summit of Mt. Washington. The way to it was really cold and windy. Most of it was exposed, above the tree line. It reminded me a lot of the trail on Franconia Ridge. We arrived around 7:30p hoping for a work for stay option. There weren’t any spots left. We could pay $15- per person to sleep on the dining room floor though. We didn’t have another option. We couldn’t go out and camp. We’d either have to hike down several miles or push up over Mt. Washington. None of those would have been a safe option. So we stayed. We hoped to get some of the scraps from dinner, no dice. We ate our own. That’s okay with me. Since I’ve been carrying it, we might as well eat it. I’m just grateful for a warm place to crash for the night. One that is protected from the rain and cold – the cherry on top… one where we don’t have to break down the tent in the morning.

 

-ansel