[at-l] Ready's Hike August 21 TD 69

[kahley7@ptd.net (kahley)]

You can write to Ready!  readyhiker@yahoo.com


"Toto I don't think we're in Kansas anymore." Today was certainly
all about elevation gains and losses; there's no mistake, we've
reached New Hampshire. Spur says this is only the "hallway"
leading to the Whites. Hmmmm.
The morning began without us. That is, we'd slept so well after
our wonderful evening of musical entertainment, courtesy of Takoma,
that neither of us wanted to get up. It was so cozy in the little
Nomad, the sound of rain falling outside, but us warm and dry
inside. Our agreement to sleep for just 15 minutes past the
sounding of the alarm worked out to be over a half-hour.
We were up and packed, breakfasted, and ready to hike. We
passed the shelter, where the 3 other hikers had stayed.
They were awake and in the midst of their morning routines.
The low slung roof on this shelter hides the recessed floor;
the clothes and bags hanging from the eaves in front further
obscure the view, in or out. It's impossible to see the faces
  of folks inside, so we each sat down at one of the logs around
the campfire pit in front of the shelter. From here we could see
everyone, and we had a lively conversation.
We were reluctant to leave, but we had a lot of miles to cover
today. We were on the trail by 9:15 AM.
First up, an ascent, but it wasn't too tough. We walked alot
on what I call "whaleback" rocks - giant slabs of rock on which
  the trail is routed. It was slippery today due to all the rain.
This slowed our pace somewhat.
Along this area, I must have stirred up a wasp or hornet nest.
I get 3 stings in rapid succession, all clustered above my right
ankle, Man, did that hurt! Luckily, I got only those 3 stings and
no more and Spur was able to pass through without any stings.
We stopped at the Trapper John shelter to have lunch, and stayed
there way too long, reading the 2 log books, eating, and drying the
  tent. Hutch catches us just as we're leaving; we chatted only briefly.
Trapper John shelter itself s a standard AT shelter; however what
makes it unique is the remains of a huge fireplace in front of the
shelter. It must once have been the focal point of [Trapper John's?] home.
There were two more big climbs today, Holts Ledges and Smarts
Mountain. Each was a difficult, lengthy climb. The temperatures
reached 85*F today and, climbing over the rocks where the heat
was stored and radiated back at us, made it feel even warmer.
We came upon 2 notes tacked on trees for hikers to see, one
from a ridgerunner and another from Caboose and Mailman,
warning about the poor water availability coming up. Only 2 sources
existed, one a house on the trail near the Skiway and another at a
creek just after the Smarts Mountain shelter.
Our destination, Hexacuba shelter, was among those listed as dry.
We reconsidered our plans and decided that we'd likely get our water
resupply at the creek and either carry it to Hexacuba shelter or
find a stealth camp spot near the creek.
We marveled at he quiet in the woods today. We seemed to have
left the towie behind somewhere in southern Vermont. Even the
Peeweee has been absent here. Without the bird songs, the only
sounds we were hearing were the occasional wind in the trees, the
buzz of mosquitos, and our hard breathing as we labored up the steep ascents.
We climbed up the fire tower atop Smarts Mountain and enjoyed the
views, then hurried on to the Smarts shelter where we left a note for
Takoma, letting him know that we were hoping to stay 2 nights at
Hikers' Welcome and that maybe we would see him there on the 2nd one?
Shawn arrived just as we were leaving and we spoke briefly before
heading out and down the final descent for the day.
It was a very long descent and, about 2/3's the way down, it set
my leg up to hurting. I sent Spur ahead so he could find and set
up camp, while I slowed my pace a tad. We calculated that we
would be lucky to be there by 7:30 PM - very near dark.
I loosened my hipbelt and found almost immediate reduction in
pain. By the time I'd reached the campsite, around 7:20, the pain
was almost gone! We'd made good time in this section, after all.
I fetched water in the creek while Spur set up the tent and bearbag
prepped. We cooked supper and ate overlooking the stream just
below our campsite. We finished up in the dark and then retired to
the tent for journaling to the delightful, calming sounds of the babbling 
brook.
We'd have an extra 1.5 miles to do tomorrow since we had stopped
short of our goal today. We liked the plan, because the terrain would
be easier tomorrow. Our plans were to be at Hikers' Welcome sometime
in the late afternoon to see Big John, Rhea and their kids, maybe Packrat, 
too.



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