#207 NH 25A/Hikers Welcome Hostel to NH 25 / Hikers Welcome Hostel- Day 128: MM1784.5 - MM1794.3
I know, hearing me talk about quitting is strange to me, too. (Will he quit? Will he go on? Stay tuned and read through to find out!)
9-5-2024
The shuttle takes me to Hwy 25A, back to where I shuttled off the trail two days ago. Sharing the cost of shuttle with me is Wallet, a SOBO hiker who found his trail name in Maine by losing his wallet when butt-sliding down a steep and rocky mountain. He apparently does that a lot; the back side of his shorts is torn to shreds. It took him about two weeks to get new credit cards and a replacement driver’s license ordered and delivered, so he’s a couple of weeks behind his schedule.
Wallet heads into the woods towards Georgia and I cross the street and enter the woods towards Maine by way of the Wachipauka Pond Trail (AT) - remember, the AT doesn’t technically exist in New Hampshire but mooches off other trails.
There are only two mountains to climb today, but they aren’t very steep or high. It is hot and humid. The trail is muddy, yet there’s not a drop of water for hikers to filter from. Mosquitos and other flying demons make their presence known, especially in the low-lying boggy areas.
Some Trail Angels left three storage tubs worth of bottled water near the trail -a highly appreciated gift to some hikers. I have two 33oz bottles of my own, so I don’t need any Angel Water.
Despite the lack of views today, there are parts of the trail that are beautiful in other ways and a pleasure to walk through. The sun is shining, and the sky is blue, the leaves are bright and creating plenty of shade. One of the best things is that I don’t see one soul on the trail the whole day.
A bright orange object on the far edge of my peripheral vision catches my attention. The mountains are easy to hike. I nearly hike over the summit of Mt Mist without realizing it. I look up from the trail to see an orange wooden sign nailed to a tree. In handwritten black paint it reads, “You almost missed Mt Mist - 2230’(ft).”
The mountain I climbed earlier was around two-thousand feet. I don’t recall seeing a sign on it at all. In fact, I don’t recall noticing that I even went over it until just now. This gentle terrain allows me to make better time than I thought. You’ll never hear me complain about an easy hiking day.
Towards the end of the day’s hike that old queasy-in-the-gut feeling sets in again. Being mid-day, I attribute it to my arch nemeses - heat and humidity.
Reaching Hwy 25, across the street from where I stepped out from the wilderness yesterday, I turn right and start walking the quarter mile up the road to the hostel.
I’m happy to be done hiking so early in the day, there’s plenty of time for my daily chores and a little siesta.
This extended stay is an enjoyable way to hike the trail, but mostly it’s given me a chance to rebound from the exhaustion and dehydration situation I was in.
Like all things when given enough time, the hostel is beginning to lose some of the magic that was so prevalent the first night and second day. A few people are still here from those days who are either taking zeros or are slackpacking different areas of the trail, but the initial buzz from those days is gone.
It’s funny, every day on the trail is so different from another that yesterday and the day before that can be referred to as those days.
When I arrived here two days ago, I looked like this year’s hike could be over. I was looking at ways to get out of there and start heading home. The deal I struck with myself was to climb Moosilauke yesterday and the ten-mile section I did today, and if I didn’t feel any better, I’d quit for this year.
I know, hearing me talk about quitting is strange to me, too.
Since I’m feeling better and not quitting, I’ll take the shuttle back to Kinsman Notch tomorrow morning to continue my long hike north toward Mt. Katahdin in Maine.
There will be no more talk of quitting from here on out.
The trail is about to get treacherous and I need to lighten my load.