I woke up around 6 and turned my 615 alarm off. I lingered in bed looking at social media and feeling generally unenthused to move. I’m anxious about starting again, especially in such a difficult section. I’ve also gotten used to constant access to comforting people, so the thought of leaving the land of cell service is isolating and unappealing. I finally got out of bed around 645 and went downstairs to eat breakfast. I’m sad that everyone I know is so far ahead of me that I have to integrate with a whole new batch of hikers. Optimistically, this could be fun, but at 645 in the morning, it mostly just feels like work. I made a half hearted effort to talk to people, but I primarily concentrated on eating my English muffin covered in peanut butter, banana and maple syrup. Then I went upstairs to organize my food resupply. I probably should have asked for a bit more because I hope to make it to rangeley before my next town stop. We will see how far I can stretch it. 
After loitering far too long, I put the final touches on my pack organization and said goodbye to the hostel staff. Odie, the hiker who runs hiker yearbook, gave me thoughtful advice on how to deal with the weather over the next few days. He suggested I camp at the unofficial spot just past mahoosuc notch and then head up the arm the next morning. 

I headed down the road perpendicular to the hostel for the next half mile past the shelburne hydro station. Seeing the mountains in the distance was both exciting and exhausting because I know what it takes to get to the top of them. The trail took a left down a logging road for a short distance until it turned right into the woods.

Then came the actual hiking. My pack is the heaviest it’s been since the beginning of the whites because I didn’t resupply the whole time, so I got used to working with a lighter load. My hiking poles feel too long and unlikely to support my weight even though they’ve done so hundreds of times. I had a faint headache across my forehead, which I’m guessing is the byproduct of 10 days worth of coffee drinking. 

I had to stop after about 5 minutes because my new shoes were too loose and my left sock was halfway off my foot. I’m wearing a different pair of socks than usual and I don’t think I will try them again. For whatever reason, the black wright socks are the best fit. I switched socks and tightened my shoes. Sweat dripped from my eyelashes as I made my way up the serpentine climb, gasping for air. How is it possible to feel so out of shape? My limbs feel disconnected from my brain, and it’s as if I have to remind them what to do with every step. My heels couldn’t get purchase in my shoes and my feet sloshed around with the slightest provocation. 

I passed an older couple that I saw in the hostel. I didn’t have the energy to get their names as I huffed my way around them. The trail flattened out to a comfortable stretch with a nice foundation of pine needles and familiar piles of moose poop. The woods were relatively silent, so I put on some fiddle tunes (Erynn Marshall, who also happened to direct the music camp I attended). This made me miss all the familiar faces I’ve seen over the last week at the Swannanoa Gathering. I’ve made so many good friends there over the years. The trail intensified to the NH I expected: 

I waited for lunch until I got to the ledges with this view. 

There was enough of a breeze to keep me cool while I sat in the sun eating my peanut butter frito wrap and Doritos. During lunch, I got a text from halfway telling me he’d crossed the kennebuc river today. He gave me advice about the upcoming towns, for which I’m always grateful, and it was good to hear from him. I feel daunted by how many miles I have left and knowing that he’s out there plugging away makes it seem more possible for me to do the same. 

I watched a rain cloud overtake the mountain top in the distance. It seemed to be heading straight for me, so I gathered my things and kept moving. I felt as if my calves were going to seize the first few steps up from the ledge. My legs felt pretty tired on and off all day. It’s amazing how fast my endurance seems to have withered. The rain started about five minutes after I left my lunch spot. Thankfully it was just a passing drizzle mixed with bouts of sunshine. The trail became narrow and overgrown with wet leaves rubbing along my sides as if I was going through the circular brushes of a car wash. I hate the feeling of wet leaves smearing against my skin, even on a day as humid as this. It also made me feel anxious about ticks, but there’s nothing to do but keep moving. 
Throughout the day, I noticed vestiges of the skills I gained in the whites as my downward steps felt coordinated and more confident than I expected. My ankles, however, felt somewhat wobbly on the flat rocky sections. There was definitely some unexpected teetering, but as the afternoon wore on, I finally started to feel as if the separate parts of my body were working together, and I didn’t have to think about every step. I felt nauseated and achy on and off throughout the day. I’m guessing it’s a combination of coffee withdrawal, the humidity, and the residual effects of being in moving vehicles for over 10 hours yesterday. 

The trail dropped down to the edge of a pond with a very active bullfrog population. As I stood taking in their percussive sounds, thunder rumbled in the distance. I felt the the reflexive urge to rush, but I was over four miles from shelter, so there wasn’t much point in trying to beat an approaching storm. 

Instead, I picked my way through the rocks and roots until the trail moved back into pine forest. The thunder rumbled for the next two hours, and I could see thick gray sky off in the distance, but the rain never came. 
Around 4:30, I stopped to make a bunchberry design to commemorate my 900 mile marker. It feels like a false accomplishment because I haven’t hiked in nearly two weeks, and my shoes are too shiny, but I know the miles are somewhere in my body. A NOBO named sunny stopped to talk for a few minutes while I made my sign. He talked about not rushing through the rest of his hike, which is not a common NOBO sentiment. Usually they’ve got their heads down and can’t be done soon enough. He continued on to the shelter while I finished fussing with the berries. Two more NOBOs passed me as I picked my way through the rocky muddy half mile home stretch. 

Gentian pond shelter sits near the edge of this pond with a nice view of the mountains. 

I gave up on tenting when I heard the large group of muggles, as sunny dubbed them. In other words, non thru hikers. They were loud and the shelter is spacious, so I decided to risk the bug situation. I sat in front of the shelter and made my dinner while I shot the shit with Sunny, Hawaii, First Aid, and another hikers whose name I can’t remember. 

After dinner, someone said something about a moose, so we all rushed to the pond’s edge just in time to catch sight of a bull moose scampering back into the woods at the far edge of the pond. I stuck around in the hopes that he would come back. While I waited, I watched the drizzling rain light up the surface of the pond and thought about how today felt more manageable than I’d expected. I worked on this post in silence for awhile and then headed back to the shelter. A chatty young guy had arrived in my absence. He passed around a pipe, which I declined, as I had also declined the hash that was offered to me earlier. There’s something wholly unappealing about altering my state of mind out here. I also don’t want to do anything that might end with me sitting in front of a thrashed food bag three days from a town. Now I’m finishing this to the sound of chatty dude (name: trade wind) smoke more pot while asking other people questions and late comers getting settled into the shelter. Tomorrow I’m going through the infamous mahoosuc notch. Hopefully. I need it to be done so I can stop feeling anxious about it. 
Mile 1891.6 to mile 1903.3 (11.7)

Total miles: 900.1 

Creature feature: dark eyed juncos, several garter snakes wriggling across the path throughout the day, and the occasional frog