#206 Kinsmans Notch to NH 25/Hikers Welcome Hostel - Day 127: MM1803.6 - MM1794.3
NoBos and SoBos have converged on the summit. From a distance they look like M&Ms spilled out with their colorful backpacks resting on rocks and their colorful coats covering their bodies.
9-4-24
What a luxury it is to drink coffee from a real mug that was brewed from a coffee pot.
The refrigerator is full of food with hiker’s names written on bags and containers in Sharpie. I open the door to find the bag with “Sprawl” written on it. Inside is meat, cheese, and tortillas set aside for this morning’s breakfast. I pour another cup of coffee. Since I emptied it, it’s up to me to make a fresh pot. What a luxury and a privilege.
What a luxury it is to sit at a table among friends and discuss one another’s plan for the day. Some rose early to catch the 7 a.m. shuttle to Kinsmans Notch and slackpack south over Moosilauke back to the hostel.
Some are up early to hike north over Moosilauke from the hostel, then continue on. Those planning to take a zero day are still asleep in the bunkhouse and will remain so for a while.
What a luxury to have slept in a real bed last night - a comfortable one at that - with a fan that ran all night creating white noise and a window next to my bed that stayed cracked all night allowing cool, fresh air to come in. Most importantly, none of the guys or girls on my floor snored one bit.
What a luxury it will be to hike today with a very light pack, with only day-hiking necessities inside it.
Beagle, Stitch, Big Blue, and I meet our driver at the van at 7 a.m. sharp. It’s nearly an hour’s drive to Kinsmans Notch. She gives advice on today’s climb and other things to fill the time. She pulls over at an overlook to show us how the next week of hiking is laid out, with Mt. Washington’s peak looking back at us from far in the distance.
We pull into the trailhead parking lot from Lost River Road. There’s a tramily of SOBO backpackers congregated near the entrance where their shuttle from the town of Lincon, N.H. dropped them off. Their group and our group huddle around the van and nearby privy trading information.
Our driver takes individual photos of each of us with Moosilauke towering in the background. Are these our lost hiker mug shots? I imagine emergency notifications lighting up phones up and down the trail, “Hiker Missing! If you see this person lying at the bottom of a ravine, call 1-800-SPLATTER”
Up, up, up the steep mountain I go, paralleling and crossing the cascading Beaver Brook waterfall for a mile, or maybe two - it’s difficult to judge distance when difficult terrain forces such slow progress.
As we discussed last chapter, the Appalachian trail doesn’t officially exist in New Hampshire, but its white blazes do. It borrows Beaver Brook Trail on Moosilauke’s north side and Carriage Rd. and Glenncliff Trails on the South side.
Slackpacking up the south side and down the north side is definitely the way to go while my body is still adjusting. Today is Wednesday, Hump Day, and what labor it is to climb this hump - but it’s a labor of love.
Up, up, up. The SoBo tramily catches up to me while photographing and video a waterfall. I step closer to the edge to let them pass through the narrow corridor.
The pines grow smaller closer to the summit. It’s always a welcome sight, as you know the hard part is nearly behind you.
I step out of the mini-Christmas Trees onto the bald part of the mountain, yet not quite to its summit. Trail maintenance crews have lined the trail with stones to encourage hikers to stay on the trail and off the rest of the sensitive vegetation.
NoBos and SoBos have converged on the summit. From a distance they look like M&Ms spilled out with their colorful backpacks resting on rocks and their colorful coats covering their bodies.
The view from up here on this clear cool day is more than worth the difficult climb up. The tiredness from the climb vanishes and a deep sense of satisfaction sets in.
I drop my pack and head over to the summit sign to get my photo with it. I ask Charge if she minds taking the shot, then I turn it back on her and Zero-G. They hiked up the opposite side of the mountain than I and will continue north - I won’t see them again.
