#209 Eliza Brook Shelter to Franconia Notch - Day 130: MM1811.1 - MM1819.1
Though today’s hike was less than ten miles, it seemed as though it were three different days, each with its own personality.
9-7-25
Walking past the shelter on the way to the bear box to get my food bag, I glance into the shelter to see who came in late last. I see a human-shaped ball rolled up in a sleeping bag but can’t see their face.
Lo-Mein is walking out of camp, and Tortilla is about packed up.
I sit below the large tarps and have coffee with the two weekend hikers, pinkies up, then head to my tent to break down and pack up.
I glance over to the shelter on the way to see the ball-o-sleeping bag hasn’t moved an inch. They must have had a rough day yesterday. I can tell by the backpack that they’re a thru-hiker - I’m curious to know if it’s someone I’ve met already.
Sitting on the edge of the shelter’s platform lacing up my boots, the mystery sleeper arises. It’s Side Quest, who I’d met at Hikers Welcome Hostel, and even shuttled to the general store with. He’s looking over at me from inside the shelter as though he’s wondering how long he’d been asleep.
He tells me he did have a rough day yesterday.
I leave camp after eight and immediately begin a steep and difficult two-thousand-foot climb. Hand over hand I pull myself up and over large boulders with little white blazes painted on them.
One little slip up here could end in tragedy. I look down from a few of these tricky ascents to see small rocks falling hundreds of feet down.
I am relieved to reach the summit of South Kinsman Mountain and surprised to see day-hikers up here. It turns out they’d taken less technical trails to the top from Lonesome Lake Hut on the other side of the mountain.
There’s a stone structure at the high point that resembles a king’s chair with a three-hundred-sixty-degree view. I plop my butt down in it to recoup from the high adrenalin rush of the past hour. I have a snack to refuel for the climb over the mountain and the steep fifteen-hundred-foot drop on the other side.
Side Quest pops up over the ridge, hands me his phone so I can take his photo in the chair, answers questions from a group of day-hiking women, then moves on.
The day is still young and the scenery beautiful. The warm sun and cool breeze are inviting. It’s all too grand a scene to not take a moment to enjoy.
In that short-lived moment of solitude, I find a large flat boulder to sit on with my boots and shirt off.
It’s good to from time to time to find tranquility to balance out the high adrenaline life-risking experiences.
The climb down Noth Kinsman Mountain is as steep in reality as it appears on the map. Slow and steady, mindful of each step, I move ever downward.
Lonesome Lake Hut comes into view, a glorious sight for a tired hiker.
Along the Appalachian Trail in New Hampshire lies eight huts managed by the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC), trail named Appalachian Money Club by hikers. These huts sit high in the mountains and are only accessible by foot. They are family vacation and group destinations for people who are looking for a challenge.
There’s no electricity beyond that of the kitchen and common area, which is supplied by large natural gas tanks flown in by helicopters and solar panels. Though the restrooms are nice, don’t expect plumbing to wash hands of flush by, and you’ll rely on sanitizer after your waste falls to the ground below the toilet.
Drinking and cooking water is gravity fed, supplied through plastic pipes by nearby springs or creeks.
Overnight visitors carry their own sleeping bag and pad and head lamp and other necessities up the mountain to the huts and sleep on wooden bunks in unheated bunk rooms. There are no roads up here.
The Croo (crew), mostly collage age kids, cook the food and make sure everything is taken care of and everything runs smoothly.
It is $200 or more per person per night, but anyone can drop in and hang out during the day.
The huts are a mystery to most long distant hikers until getting to one, talking to the Croo, and experiencing them. I will share more about their usefulness and how we hikers use them to our advantage as the stories unfold.
The breakfasts and dinners are fantastic and abundant - as I will demonstrate in later stories as I drop into other huts, but as for this hut, I’m just here for a little while.
Side Quest reached the hut shortly before me. I drop my pack beside the steps and change into my camp shoes, never missing an opportunity to rest my feet, and go inside.
On the free table is a giant bowl of this morning’s left-over oatmeal. Side Quest grabs a dish and fills it with the oatmeal. I smell tomato soup coming from the kitchen and order a bowl for three dollars and a hunk of bread for another dollar.
We sit and watch people move around in the common area. There are kids and parents who are here for overnights. There are day-hikers who started their day in the valley, hiked to the summit of the Kinsmen peaks, and dropped in here for a little while on their way back to their vehicles in the valley.
I fill up my water bottles at the outside spigot and follow the trail past the nearby Lonesome Lake, pausing for a moment to admire the picturesque scene, then down the fifteen-hundred- foot ascent of much gentler grade towards The Flume Visitor Center in Kinsman Notch, with the intent to make it into North Woodstock, NH for the night.
Clouds move in as the afternoon wears on. My brain and body begin to fade - it’s been a big day. I stand at a trail split which is far more confusing to me than it should be.
I can’t decide which way would get me to the visitor center parking lot, and I’m too tired to walk in either direction to find out.