The White Mountains, New Hampshire and Maine

You know you are a thru-hiker when... a challenge to eat three industrial size pot pies is taken seriously.

It is great to see everyone's guesses and comments. At the moments we only have a very vague idea of when we are going to finish so all of them are possible. Thanks to everyone for the birthday wishes.

Our resupply in Hanover was interesting to say the least. Mike climbed the first mountain out of town with a french bread stick strapped to the side of his pack while Zan carried a pound worth of tea-cake. A few months ago while we were still in New Jersey we invited everyone we were hiking with to High Tea. On the invitation we specified that "some tea and pot would be provided..." This combined with the fact it was called "High tea" lead to quite a few misunderstandings. (marijuana has been decriminalised in quite a few states here.) Unfortunately we only had one guest, who just happened to be English so we spent the next hour discussing the peculiarities of American culture.

After leaving Hanover we eagerly headed towards the White Mountain State Forest. We had been warned that from there on the trail was going to be tough and that we could expect vertical rock faces and alpine areas but would be rewarded with spectacular views.

Franconia Ridge was our first major walk above tree line. We powered past multitudes of tourists and struggling day hikers to summit Mt Lafayette. The view was breath taking. In the distance we could faintly see Mount Washington, our destination in a few days.

We spent the night of Zan's birthday in the Lakes of the Clouds Hut, just below the summit of Mount Washington as hired servants for the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC)Hut crew. It was a blast. For a few minutes of sweeping we got all the chicken pot pie we could eat, a spectacular sunset and free bunk space on the mess hall tables. Despite all claims we finally conceded that 3 pot pies are entirely too much food for even 4 thru-hikers to consume in one sitting. Maybe two would be possible... We awoke the next morning to the paying guests drinking coffee by our feet at 5am.

After our morning chores we finally pried ourselves away from the hut and climbed the 1.5 miles left to the summit of Mount Washington. We had some photos we took of the view to show you but we had technical difficulties. The best way for you to experience what we felt and saw is...
1. Find a room sized freezer (a refridgerated truck will suffice).
2. Put as many people as you can find in it.
3. Turn a fan on full blast.
4. Hold up a white piece of paper in front of your face.

Welcome to Mount Washington.

Mount Washington is 6288 feet and is the tallest mountain in New Hampshire. Its claim to fame is that it is the place where the highest wind speed ever was recorded, 231 miles per hour. You would expect such a harsh environment to be a little bit inaccessible to the general public. Through the fog we staggered towards the snack bar only to be almost run over by a train as we stumbled onto the railroad tracks and then have a car swerve away from us at the last minute.

We stayed in the snack bar building for about an hour. By the time we were ready to leave the wind had picked up so much that we could barely stand outside. Playing it safe we decided to hitch into Gorham for the night. It seems strange to be hitch hiking from the tallest mountain in New Hampshire and our poor little thumbs almost froze off before someone felt sorry for us and picked us up.

Two days later we finally made it back up to the top of Mount Washington. The day was clear, the wind was calm and the views were great.

Our next big hurdle in the White was the Wildcat Range. It is a series of peak with some climbs up shear rock faces. At the top of the first one we discovered a gondola where Zan firmly stated, "No, we are not going to the snack bar at the bottom. I can see us ending up in Gorham for the night if we do that." Ten minutes later we were sitting in a gondola car heading towards the snack bar with Gorham as our ultimate destination and Mike nursing a swollen wrist. Some people will do anything for a cheese burger.

Ten minutes earlier (Zan's side of the story):

Dodging our way past all the gondola day hikers we breathed a sigh of relief as we finally left them all behind. Just as we could no longer her the whistle of the gondola Zan stopped to make use of the wilderness facilities. Humming away to her self she began following Mike down the trail. Suddenly she heard a loud "oh bother" (contents censored for sensitive readers) corner to see Mike lying half in the bushes and half on the trail.

Ten minutes earlier (Mike's side of the story):

Mike was walking along thinking about what he normally does when he is walking... steak.... Suddenly he found himself lying half on the trail and half in the bushes. Staring harshly at the slippery rock (Mike does not like rocks) and said, "Oh bother" (censored for sensitive readers)

Deciding to play it safe we headed into Gorham to get Mike's wrist checked out. As we were sitting outside the gas station waiting for the bus to the local hospital a woman pulled up. "Are you guys thru-hikers? I hear you are on your way to the hospital. Can I give you a ride?"

Within seconds we were on our way to the Hospital as she explained to us that she was the editor for the travel section of a newspaper out of Minneapolis, Minnesota. She was writing an article on thru-hikers as part of a series on pilgrimages.

While Mike was getting his wrist seen to Zan spent two hours chatting to the reporter. No break showed up in the x-rays but was told to "take it easy." The next day we were back on the trail.

A couple of days later we crossed into Maine, our final state of the hike.

Mahousic Notch is infamous. It is a mile long section of the trail that passes through a boulder field. We found ourselves scrambling over, under, around and through boulders the size of houses all in the freezing cold rain. We had a whale of a time. (Phil would understand)

So here we are in Bethel, Maine. Where we have been for the last two nights. Never fear we plan to head back to the trail tomorrow and knock over the last 266 miles soon...