Total Weekly Mileage: 120.6
“So Tough, So Cold”
Forgetting to download my New Hampshire map and having a malfunctioning phone was not how I wanted the week to start—but that’s how the week started. Luckily, the A.T. is marked well, so I was able to get through Mahoosuc Notch, slip and fall on my already sore left ass cheek, and make it into the Granite State—my home state. The White Mountains are my home, and you’d think I’d be prepared. I wasn’t.
Hitching into Gorham, I went straight to the gas station and hit town for some food. Sitting on the curb outside, a car honked its horn—it was my cousin. He was wondering why I hadn’t told my family I’d be there. Honestly, I still had 18 miles to go for the day and was still in trail mode.
Back on trail, I hiked my tail off, excited to be back home. The hiking wasn’t easy, and my knees were screaming. By the time I arrived back in Pinkham Notch, I got a text from my uncle warning me of 70–100 mph wind gusts and rain the following day on Mt. Washington. That forced me to take a zero in Gorham. The day after would be clear, but the next day would be junk again. I had one shot to make it up and over—which I did, but not before slipping and falling at the summit in front of a dozen people.
It was 3 p.m., and I needed to get down as far as I could. I pitched in the rain 5.4 miles before Crawford Notch. A sleepless, soaking-wet, leaking-tent night didn’t deter me from getting my cold, wet ass to the road. Unfortunately, no one wanted to pick me up, and in a 40-degree downpour, I waited with my thumb out for over an hour. Finally getting a ride, I stayed at the Highland Center for the day. The weather wasn’t going to get better, and for 80 bucks with AYCE dinner and breakfast, I was sold.
Some friends and family came to visit, and the next morning I was back on trail—surprised by Captain Planet and Sidewinder from the PCT. We hiked to Zealand Hut together, and I took off and pushed hard to make it to Garfield Hut that night. All by my lonesome, I slept well, and the next morning dealt with ice and wind over Franconia Ridge.
Descending down and across Route 93 and ascending up the Kinsmans, I was very careful. Everything was iced up and sketchy. Tough, slow going, I made it to Eliza Brook Shelter and decided to stay there—grateful for not getting beat up too badly through this section.
My home state was kicking my ass.
