Friday August 22 – Monday August 25. NH10, Hanover, NH – NH25, Glencliff. (Mile 1786.4 since Springer Mountain and only 398.9 miles to Katahdin)

Brian and Dee’s son, Stewart, kindly drove me back to Starbucks, where he had picked me up on the Wednesday evening. It had been great to take a zero and I was very grateful to Brian and Dee for their hospitality.

Of course, at Starbucks, I couldn’t resist the chance of a triple grande non fat latte (old habits die hard – I should have had full fat) and a Blueberry scone, so I dallied for 30 minutes before hitting the trail once more. It was spitting with intermittent rain as I started, though I’d been warned by the forecast.

Happily, what rain there was eased off and my first impression of hiking in the woods of New Hampshire was that it was all fairly benign. Something of an uphill to begin with but nothing too terrifying. I knew that this was an entirely false impression but enjoyed deluding myself nonetheless. Until you have to face it, convince yourself it’ll be ok!

I ran into a couple of familiar faces that morning, starting with Voodoo, the witness of my most embarrassing moment on the trail (so bad, that I couldn’t write about it and simply described it in a video), and Lighter Knot, an older guy I’d camped with in CT. Lighter Knot and I talked about possibly teaming up for some of the tougher climbs to come. We said we’d meet later at Moose Mountain Shelter and decide where to end the day at that time.

As luck would have it, by the time we got to the shelter the rain was just starting to take hold, so our day was over after only 11 miles by 3.05pm.  A Japanese guy who Lighter Knot knew, Loon, joined us later and we were all settled in the shelter by 7.30. I don’t normally sleep in shelters, though I make an exception when it rains.

While the rain itself subsided, the wind through the night blew water from the trees on to the shelter, drowning out any mouse or chipmunk activity, which was fine by me. They may have been marching round and poking into our packs, but as long as I can’t hear them, I’m food to go.

I had probably my best night in a shelter and woke refreshed and ready to move on. I was out by 7.50, making excellent progress for the first 5 miles. The real mountains were still to come, yet I really struggled for the rest of the day to make another 7 miles. They tended to be pretty much straight up, with no side-to-side and I took extensive breaks, gasping to regain my breath and the power in my legs. That said, there hasn’t been a mountain I’ve failed to get over, so I take heart from that.

Lighter Knot and I stopped at the kindly Bill Ackerly’s home (just look at the cute sign that he made) at the promise of free ice cream and water top up. Bill is a real gent, 86 years old and delighted to have hikers cluttering up his porch.  He claimed that it was his 86th birthday, though one of the hikers who had been there the previous evening said that he had said the same thing the day before!  He was a treat to meet.

I got to the shelter, which was a very dreary, closed building and waited for LK before we settled on the tenting site, a few hundred yards before, with a beautiful view.

I had my best sleep in a tent in a long while and breakfasted with a glorious view in front. Lighter Knot left 10 minutes before me and called at the shelter, where he hoped to, and did, find Loon. We had arranged to meet at the tentsite at Ore Hill, about 12.5 miles away, so I tried to make some early progress down the hill.

It was wet, rocky and very muddy. Indeed, I fell for the 27th, 28th and 29th time, each time slipping on the mud and all the falls occurred within an hour. I didn’t hurt myself on any of the falls, but they still always slow me down and tend to make me more tentative, though clearly not tentative enough, as I continued my fall fest.

I ran into several SOBO’s, many of whom were eager to share their stories of the White Mountains and Maine. It all sounds like a bit of a horror story to me and I feel for the first time that I may miss my September 25th target date. My lovely wife always tells me that she would rather I missed her birthday and stayed safe, so I’m going to concentrate on the safety while still keeping an eye on the miles per day. You never know, I may still make it.

There were two good climbs today, though nothing I haven’t experienced before, and I got to camp at about 4pm, while Lighter Knot showed up about 30 minutes later and Loon rolled in at about 6.30pm, though he probably left about 2 hours after us. I must say, knowing that I won’t be camping alone is quite a pleasant feeling, so I may have found the partners I was previously avoiding.

With my new amigos, Lighter Knot and Loon, around me, I slept really well again, waking after 6.20am and refreshed once more.

We had decided to hike just to Glencliff, only about 8 miles away, for a couple of reasons. First, I had a food pick up from the Glencliff Post Office. Second, Mt Moosilauke is the beginning of the White Mountains and LK and I wanted to slack pack our first mountain in that range. We’ll be doing that tomorrow morning.

Slack packing involves a small day pack, with the hostel taking hikers to a specified point ahead on the trail, then hiking back to the hostel. In this way, we’ll be hiking Moosilauke from north to south which, from the profile, looks to be an easier route.

There are a varying number of attitudes to this type of hiking, some believing that it isn’t somehow “correct.” My attitude is that you take what you need for each day and, when you are returning to sleep at the same place, you only need a small pack, with water and some food with, perhaps, an article of clothing. This is where “hike your own hike” prevails, so I’m happy with our decision.

While the three of us hiked separately today, the three of us got to the end of our morning effort at the same time and headed east. We reached the Hikers Welcome Hostel within half a mile. It was a little like Standing Bear Farm, which was more than 1000 miles back, where nothing looked right but it all worked. A shower, laundry, tent site and shopping trip allowed us all to hang out for the afternoon, chatting with SOBOs and even one guy who is boomeranging. Incredibly, he started on Springer on the same date as I did and has been to Katahdin and is heading back down south!  Nearly 4400 miles in one year!  Extraordinary.

I’m looking forward to Moosilauke in the morning and, with a great forecast for the next 5 days, we look set fair for the Whites.

Bring ’em on!