Views From Kinsman Peak

We are standing on South Kinsman Peak after the scariest hardest climb we have done yet on the trail.

Mt. Moosilauke

Our journey brought us to the foot of the White Mountains two nights ago. At the base of Mount Moosilauke we camped and reflected on how far we've come. Two miles short of four hundred to go, we let the magnitude of the distance wash over us. We knew that in the morning we would climb this massif, the first in the region and an outlier that stands guard to the rest of the range. Four thousand feet would be the vertical change over four miles, it was a bigger climb than any we have done thus far. Because of the high altitude of the Whites and the harsh weather that plagues the area most of the mountains are above tree line. These exposed ridges and summits offer spectacular views when the weather is cooperative but in other times it can be a curse; gale force winds tore at our friends who crossed it a day before us and fog obscured our entire climb. Rock cairns are the only guide in the fog and snow and on the northern slope metal rods and wooden pegs are used as ladder rungs to descend the granite faces. A large stream also parallels the trail here, and as the water plunges over ledges it splashes onto the trail, making the rock treacherously slick. After a night off in North Woodstock we re enter the rugged world of the Whites to tackle the Kinsman peaks and Franconia ridge.

Surviving the Flood

We have talked recently about how it seems we can't catch a break with the weather. In the winter people told us that this was the harshest winter they had seen in years, and now people from New England continue to explain how this weather is so uncharacteristic of the time of year. Despite the rain recently we have been in very good spirits. We have accepted that we are going to be wet much of the time. Luckily we have been able to utilize shelters as a refuge. In addition to this we have enjoyed some great company and talked about movies, books, and current events. A couple of nights ago the weather was calling for severe floods yet again. This is extremely unfortunate seeing that fording brooks and streams has become part of our everyday activities. I woke up and it was still raining. As I walked up the hill to the privy it was apparent that the trails had become streams, as they usually do with this kind of rain. Right away I knew it was going to be a challenging day of walking. We trudged on for sixteen miles of muck and water that had replaced a once nicely worn trail. We decided to bypass the hostel at the base of Moosilauke due to questionable conditions and hiked another mile to the shelter. There we met a father and son who are flip flopping the trail together, and a super nice guy doing trail magic. The next day would start our adventure in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. We went to sleep ready to climb the beast.

The second picture below is not a creek. This is what the trail often becomes in heavy rain.

Holt's Ledges

This was an amazing view on the edge of the white mountains. We stopped after a long day to enjoy our reward. Soon after we climbed up our friend Johnny Blaze showed up and we just sat there in awe, taking it all in. It feels good to be in the mountains.

Hannover, NH

The span from Rutland to the confetti it river was full of short, steep climbs that made us reminiscent of New York and Virginia. Walking down the streets of Norwich and seeing the river below us was invigorating. We were about to enter the thirteenth state! As our feet crossed the boundary my hands flew up in exclamation, cars honked their horns and people's smiled, the town rejoiced in our accomplishment. Once up the hill we came onto the main green of Dartmouth's campus. The university is beautifully designed, and I was tempted to stay a while. Hannover is an affluent town but we managed to find a delicious ( and affordable) pizza buffet. Afterwards we camped behind the university's soccer fields and then resupplied at the local co-op. It's amazing that over the span of four months we have traversed 1,700 miles, 12 states and four regions.  Only four hundred left to go and two states between us and our final victory, summiting Katahdin.  

Vermont Visitors

The past three days have been a well deserved and wonderful vacation. The Swain family drove up to Rutland to meet us and then we took a day trip to Burlington. On the shores of Lake Champlain we explored the boardwalk, battery and historic Church st. The University of Vermont was a beautiful campus and the restaurants and  shops were a blast from the civilized past. Thank you Meems, Peeps, Dustin and Logan for coming and visiting us! 

Stratton to Killington

Central Vermont is a land filled with tall birch, shaded hemlock valleys and beautiful creeks and rivers. The natural lakes and ponds continue to be a frequent feature and the animals are becoming more unfamiliar to us. We've crossed several gorges on suspension bridges and a weasel circled us curiously as we ascended Bromley Peak. 

Stratton Mountain, VT

Yesterday was our third day in Vermont and the agenda was quite intimidating. Stratton mountain is the largest climb since Virginia; it is also the peak that Benton Mckaye stood on and conceived the idea of the Appalachian trail. Just shy of 4000 ft, the mountain loomed on the horizon all morning as we wove our way through birch groves and valleys. At the base of the mountain we crossed a gravel road in the bright sunlight and plunged back into the dappled shadows of the woods. As we started our ascent we noticed that the birds had stopped chirping and a few moments later our surroundings began to sink into darkness. Thunder rolled across the sky and cracked in deafening repetition. In the span of ten minutes we had witnessed the pale blue disappear behind boiling clouds and the trees bend to the gale force winds. We tried to pull out our rain gear but before it was in place the large drops began to fall. The temperature dropped at an unbelievable rate and lighting seemed to split the air in flashes of pink and white. The rain gave way to pea size hail that grew to be the diameter of a dime. The hail pelted us for a while as we huddled under a hemlock tree. Thirty minutes passed and the storm subsided. Still raining, we trudged to the summit, cold and disheartened. When we walked into the clearing I lifted my eyes to see something I never expected to see. Ten yards ahead of me was a moose, and he stared at me as intently as I stared at him. He was massive and very comfortable with us. After several pictures we walked forwards and he slunk off into the darkness beneath the hemlocks. Although the storm dampened our mood as we climbed, the reward at the top was unbelievably awesome!

Mount Greylock

Mount Greylock is significant for several reasons. First of all it is the highest peak in Massachusetts, and secondly the border of our 12th state (Vermont) waited just on the other side. The climb was long, but pretty enjoyable. The top is home to a massive tower were you can see a 360 degree view of the surrounding landscape. We got to the top an hour before sunset, and we still had a few miles before we reached the shelter. We only had to hiked in the dark for about 20 minutes before we saw the shelter sign. It was a very long day, but we knew we would be crossing over into Vermont in the morning!

An Unexpected Angel

Leaving Upper Goose Pond Cabin we walked in the rain to the October mountain shelter. Drenched and cold, our plan of making it to Dalton was thrown out and our only driving force was the chill that had crept into our bones and the desire to be dry. Snuggled in our sleeping bags in the loft of the shelter we listened to the rain hit the tin roof as the hours passed. Once warm and dry our spirits lifted some and we reevaluated our decision to stop prematurely. In a flurry we packed our bags and headed back out into the storm. The trail followed a ridge line to Dalton but heavy use and even heavier rain had reduced the small path to a mud pit that in places, turned into a creek. Racing the daylight, we were practically running once we made it to the rim of the valley. A close encounter with a bear in the growing twilight spooked us a little, but we were close to town and stopping for nothing. When we shot out of the woods and onto the street it was almost dark. Hustling down the sidewalk we made it to Tom Levardi's house, where we knew we could tent. Upon meeting him we found out that we could actually stay inside. One surprise led to another and before we knew it we were showered, in dry clothes and eating a home cooked meal. The magic didn't stop there, he made us delicious ice cream sundaes and offered to wash all of our nasty clothes. Mr. Levardi has been offering his house as a refuge to hikers for 35 years; some nights he accommodates as many as 30 people. He won't let you leave before offering you several meals, a comfortable place to sleep and a ride to resupply. After a day in the deluge we couldn't have been more relieved to run into this amazing trail magic. With our spirits lifted and clothes dry we left in the morning sunlight, happy and well rested.

Upper Goose Pond Cabin

Upper Goose Pond was an awesome location for us to rest our heads for a night. We arrived and were greeted by the caretaker and her two friends who were staying there for the week. She told us we could get a bunk and then we could take the canoe out if we wanted. We cooked dinner and then walked down to the dock just as the sun started to set. We canoed around the large pond, which most people would call a lake. In this part of the world natural bodies of water are called ponds and man-made bodies are called lakes. Anyway the evening was great and we talked to two other guys who were hiking a short section. The next morning we were greeted by the smell of blueberry pancakes and coffee. We had breakfast with the ladies and shared hiking stories and after we were done we set back out into the woods. The weather was calling for over three inches of rain, and man did it rain.

Great Barrington, MA

Yesterday we entered the Berkshires. These mountains hold historic towns and villages that have housed revolutionary war heroes and transcendentalist writers and artist. The elegance of the countryside is carried over into the beautiful architecture of these towns. We resupplied and zeroed in Great Barrington, one of the larger townships; home to a thriving downtown scene and a castle, this place has been an adventure in itself. A few more days and we will be in Vermont!!

Massachusetts Morning

We descended Bear Mtn and entered Massachusetts and sages ravine. The ravine turned out to be a hidden world of waterfalls and cool air. It was unexpectedly beautiful and by far one of my favorite areas so far on the trail.
Mt. Race was the reward for our climb out of the ravine. For over half a mile the trail closely parallels the east side of the mountain, which abruptly drops off into the Housatonic river valley. It offered panoramic views that were breathtaking! We have heard however, that when foggy, this section can mess with your nerves.

Connecticut country

Our time in Connecticut was short lived but beautiful none the less. We started to feel like we were getting back into real mountains here. Hospitality was wide spread and our multiple hitching attempts all ended successfully! We got our first taste of New England in the towns that are spotted with Victorian Houses, covered bridges and elegant churches.