Sept 4th …Scaring Eva and Short Term
OK, let me think back to where I left off. I last wrote when I was on top of Mt. Moosilauke. I believe I started to descend around 1 p.m. About 3/4ths of the way down I decided to stop for a second lunch by the waterfall that goes most of the way down the North Slope. I was exhausted. The descent was almost as tough as the climb, very steep and at times leaving little room for a misstep. My goal that day, Saturday, was 16 miles. A high goal for my 1st day in the Whites. After getting to the other side of Moosilauke, only 9 miles in, I was wore out. I somehow made it up another steep climb. At the top, about 5 miles later I ran into Butch and Stonedance. A couple hiking that I’d met earlier in Palmerton, PA. I caught up with them as the sun disappeared behind us and they informed me that my friends Eva and Short-term (a couple who met on the trail) and Dirty D were just down the trail. That lifted my spirits. I haven’t seen them in awhile and I was glad to be close to them. As I walked on while Butch and Stonedance found a place to stealth, I realized this would be a perfect opportunity to scare the daylights out of my unsuspecting friends up ahead; provided I was the type of person given to base deeds like that. Well I’m that type of person.
In the deepening twilight, as I neared in the sound of Eva’s unique giggle and Short-term’s southern drawl, I shut my headlamp off and began knocking over dead trees and breaking branches.
“What IS that?” I heard Eva curiously wonder out loud.
“Aw, it’s just some dead trees falling over.” Short-term was unconcerned. He has a great tattoo by the way. A little pull behind camper on his left arm. The caption says, “Home is where you park it.” I understand he lives in an Airstream. Anyway, so the branches mysteriously breaking on a completely windless night wasn’t doing it. I began then to vocalize a growl I’d been working on for years. It’s not bad, and especially effective when echoed in cupped hands. This got their attention a little more but they were still unconvinced of any danger. So I pried a 50 lb. rock loose from the ground and started smashing it off of other rocks. I was pleased with the unnerving sounds the rocks were making and I knew this would have the desired effect. I was now about 15 yards away from them.
“Are you going to DO SOMETHING ABOUT THAT!?!” Eva appealed in earnest.
“Uhh, OK.”, the reluctant response from Short-term.
He started towards me with his headlamp on. Right before the beam betrayed me, I sent forth my best, most sincere and grizzly growl that I had in me. In the twitch of an eye that headlamp beam spun a 180°. Short-term, he wheeled around, yelled, “GET IN THE TENT!” Short-term was ready to fight to save his girl. He grabbed a trekking pole and started towards me and I couldn’t bear it anymore. I’d gone too far already. I can’t remember what I said to give myself up but they heard a human voice and were confused and relieved at the same time. I think I said, “Everything alright up here?” And Eva said “AGHH!!! You scared the #!@% out of us! Who are you?” “Owen A” I said.
“ AHhhh!!! Owen A it’s so good to see you again, we thought you were days ahead! You seriously scared the #$@! Out of us. “
They were laughing hysterically between talking. A flood of emotions from anger to happiness, re enactments of dialogue and actions, and questions, catching up and laughter filled the next 10 minutes.
I had to sit down then. Eva said, “Owen you look beat.” “I am.” I replied. I told them I did 14 miles which impressed them and they talked me into stealthing nearby, which I didn’t really need convincing to do. We said our goodbyes and I went down the trail a ways to find a spot, still hearing bits and pieces of their laughter and cussing and reenacting.
Friday, January 11, 2013
Sept 1st I’m finally in New Hampshire. The last few days have been good, getting back into the trail life after some days off with my friends Kelly, Patrick and my girlfriend Caitlin, and two of Kelly’s friends. (I hung out with them before I stayed at the barn but I don‘t know if I mentioned that. )
My last two days in Vermont were probably the most beautiful on the trail yet; low 70’s, crisp, early autumn air, the terrain hasn’t been bad, and blue skies. I spent a lot of time in Hanover, killing the brunt of the day eating free food. Hanover was once dubbed, somewhere in the media, a non-hiker-friendly town, so they’ve overcompensated and now one place gives free bagels, another a free slice of pizza. The library is the nicest I’ve been to on the trail; they even have a wall dedicated to hikers and the A.T.. Also I got some water purification drops, Aqua Mira, at an outfitter. All in all, Hanover was a good visit.
After hiking a few miles out of town it began to get dark so I set up a stealth camp across the road from a cemetery where there was a guy buried named Alpheus Melville Hurlbutt (great name), but I didn’t sleep well. This gremlin of an animal was circling and growling/wheezing at me all night. All I could see of it was his eyes; about three inches apart and about two feet off the ground. He moved quietly and fast and had this blood-curdling vocalization, like I said. It sounded like he had a jagged chicken bone stuck sideways in his throat and had also been a chain smoker for 60 years. It was by far the most sickly sounding noise coming from a man or beast I’ve personally ever heard. Whenever Silence would finally get a foothold on the night; when she’d lovingly caress me and the rocks and trees about me, and I’d drift off to sleep; this mutant fiend would start another bout of retching his guts out, 20 yards away from me. He probably smelled and wanted the open bag of Frito’s in my backpack. When dawn finally came he left and I was able to get some decent sleep for an hour or two.
Yesterday afternoon we hung out on this older fella’s porch and shot the breeze; myself, Rainbow Dash and Firefox. The guy gives out ice cream bars to hikers and lets us use his bathroom and get water. It was a nice time but I still had 5 miles of climbing ahead of me. After walking in the dark awhile, I got to a very crowded shelter, actually an old cabin, on top of Smarts Mountain just before the rain began to fall. I was welcomed immediately when some hikers I never met saw my new little guitar thing I recently bought. It’s called a strum stick; three strings, diatonic fret scale, and it has a great little mountain twang to it. These guys had 2 guitars and one Ukulele; so we played a few songs and they even sang and harmonized ’I’ll Fly Away’ and it sounded angelic, in a folky sort of way, in that crowded little cabin. Everyone else was listening intently and seemed to be wholly enjoying themselves. I know I did; and I’m sure I’ll never forget that evening in the little hut on the mountain, where through the cracks between the boards the music seeped out and the mist seeped in.
Then this morning around Seven I climbed the fire tower on the summit and saw such a perfect scene. It was like looking out onto an ocean of clouds, with black mountains rising up out of them. It tied with #1 on my best views so far.
…I’m by a stream now, four miles into my day, shooting for 20 miles in my last decent bit of terrain before I start the Whites, which will be tomorrow if I get 20 today.
Sept 2nd.
I did that 20 miles and it felt rewarding to get a higher mileage day in before the White Mtns. Last night I stayed at the Hiker Friendly Hostel; 20 bucks for a bunk & shower and some rough, but very hiker-esque amenities. These include outdoor shower, toilet, sink and washer/dryer, all under a plastic awning. We had a great time. Being days behind the group I’d been hiking with, I’m now around a few familiar faces and many new ones. As we spent the night on the Southern threshold of the Whites, spirits were high and expectant, and the mood light. A good sized group of us sat around a fire until well past midnight and had a great time telling stories and recalling pop culture facets of our childhood and teen years. It’ll be one of my favorite memories of the trail I’m sure.
As I write this, again, I’m sitting on top of a big rock. It’s called Mt. Moosilauke.
What. A. Climb. An elevation gain of 3,746 feet. It’s total elevation is 4,802 feet. I’m above treeline. I’ve never climbed this high on my own power. It’s Saturday and there are a lot of people up here. 1 o’clock. I’m still going to try and do 11 more miles to get to a shelter I think, we’ll see if my legs agree with that plan. It’s cool and breezy but I’m on the lee side and the sun just came out. Feels so nice.
My last two days in Vermont were probably the most beautiful on the trail yet; low 70’s, crisp, early autumn air, the terrain hasn’t been bad, and blue skies. I spent a lot of time in Hanover, killing the brunt of the day eating free food. Hanover was once dubbed, somewhere in the media, a non-hiker-friendly town, so they’ve overcompensated and now one place gives free bagels, another a free slice of pizza. The library is the nicest I’ve been to on the trail; they even have a wall dedicated to hikers and the A.T.. Also I got some water purification drops, Aqua Mira, at an outfitter. All in all, Hanover was a good visit.
After hiking a few miles out of town it began to get dark so I set up a stealth camp across the road from a cemetery where there was a guy buried named Alpheus Melville Hurlbutt (great name), but I didn’t sleep well. This gremlin of an animal was circling and growling/wheezing at me all night. All I could see of it was his eyes; about three inches apart and about two feet off the ground. He moved quietly and fast and had this blood-curdling vocalization, like I said. It sounded like he had a jagged chicken bone stuck sideways in his throat and had also been a chain smoker for 60 years. It was by far the most sickly sounding noise coming from a man or beast I’ve personally ever heard. Whenever Silence would finally get a foothold on the night; when she’d lovingly caress me and the rocks and trees about me, and I’d drift off to sleep; this mutant fiend would start another bout of retching his guts out, 20 yards away from me. He probably smelled and wanted the open bag of Frito’s in my backpack. When dawn finally came he left and I was able to get some decent sleep for an hour or two.
Yesterday afternoon we hung out on this older fella’s porch and shot the breeze; myself, Rainbow Dash and Firefox. The guy gives out ice cream bars to hikers and lets us use his bathroom and get water. It was a nice time but I still had 5 miles of climbing ahead of me. After walking in the dark awhile, I got to a very crowded shelter, actually an old cabin, on top of Smarts Mountain just before the rain began to fall. I was welcomed immediately when some hikers I never met saw my new little guitar thing I recently bought. It’s called a strum stick; three strings, diatonic fret scale, and it has a great little mountain twang to it. These guys had 2 guitars and one Ukulele; so we played a few songs and they even sang and harmonized ’I’ll Fly Away’ and it sounded angelic, in a folky sort of way, in that crowded little cabin. Everyone else was listening intently and seemed to be wholly enjoying themselves. I know I did; and I’m sure I’ll never forget that evening in the little hut on the mountain, where through the cracks between the boards the music seeped out and the mist seeped in.
Then this morning around Seven I climbed the fire tower on the summit and saw such a perfect scene. It was like looking out onto an ocean of clouds, with black mountains rising up out of them. It tied with #1 on my best views so far.
…I’m by a stream now, four miles into my day, shooting for 20 miles in my last decent bit of terrain before I start the Whites, which will be tomorrow if I get 20 today.
Sept 2nd.
I did that 20 miles and it felt rewarding to get a higher mileage day in before the White Mtns. Last night I stayed at the Hiker Friendly Hostel; 20 bucks for a bunk & shower and some rough, but very hiker-esque amenities. These include outdoor shower, toilet, sink and washer/dryer, all under a plastic awning. We had a great time. Being days behind the group I’d been hiking with, I’m now around a few familiar faces and many new ones. As we spent the night on the Southern threshold of the Whites, spirits were high and expectant, and the mood light. A good sized group of us sat around a fire until well past midnight and had a great time telling stories and recalling pop culture facets of our childhood and teen years. It’ll be one of my favorite memories of the trail I’m sure.
As I write this, again, I’m sitting on top of a big rock. It’s called Mt. Moosilauke.
What. A. Climb. An elevation gain of 3,746 feet. It’s total elevation is 4,802 feet. I’m above treeline. I’ve never climbed this high on my own power. It’s Saturday and there are a lot of people up here. 1 o’clock. I’m still going to try and do 11 more miles to get to a shelter I think, we’ll see if my legs agree with that plan. It’s cool and breezy but I’m on the lee side and the sun just came out. Feels so nice.
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