Entering the White Mountains

   On August 8, 1980 I was scheduled to pick up my supply box from the post office in Glencliff, New Hampshire. At this point I was back on schedule so I'm sure that I got the box, but I don't really remember much about the town. Probably because my mind was on the mountains that lay ahead. I was getting ready to enter the White Mountains. In a letter to my sister, Sarah Kennedy, dated August 9, 1980 I said this:

"I'm about to head into the White Mountains. That means hiking above treeline in places. In the Presidential Range 12 miles are above treeline. And Mt. Washington has recorded the worst weather in North America. 60 days out of the year are nice. Last May they had 15 degree temperatures with 45mph winds and 3 inches of snow. That ain't whistling Dixie! Of course the A.T. goes right over Mt. Washington (who wants to miss the fun?). I know, 'Be Careful'. "
 
   The White Mountains are big, majestic, and dangerous. The term "treeline" is the elevation where trees no longer grow. If a storm breaks out above treeline, there is nothing to block the wind. I was glad to have my wool shirt, parka, wool knickers, and long wool socks for this part of the trip. When I entered the White Mountains it was a very steep climb up into the mountain range. Periodically I would pass by "huts" where hikers could spend the night. Unfortunately, you had to have a reservation because the huts were so popular. Being a thru hiker, I didn't have a reservation and had to find other places to camp.
   I remember one evening I kept trying to find a place to camp without any luck. The hut I passed earlier was full (I asked, just in case they had some room). I wasn't above treeline, but I was in an area where you aren't supposed to camp. The vegetation in that area is somewhat fragile because of the harsh environment. I kept going, and going but couldn't find a good place to camp. Finally the sun started to go down. I found a flat spot covered with pine needles that was just big enough for me to stretch out my sleeping bag. So, although it was against the rules, I slept there for the night, underneath the stars and the trees.
   In the morning I got up early and threw my stuff into my pack. Then I hiked about a mile until I found a spot on the trail where I could stop and cook breakfast. I was avoiding the park rangers. If one showed up and asked if this is where I camped, I could honestly say "no". Well, no rangers showed up and I continued on down the trail.
   I don't know if it was the same day or not, but about 11am I came up to another hut, high in the mountains. As I went inside, I saw a sign that said "All You Can Eat Pancakes". Either the hut cook was over zealous, or the hut guests weren't hungry that day. There were lots of left over pancakes. I paid a small fee (I think maybe $2) and ate to my heart's content!
   The huts are amazing places. They are like large cabins with bunk rooms for the guests and a large room for eating & socializing. Hut guests are fed supper and breakfast and can usually get sandwiches to take with them for lunch. Because of their location high up in the mountains, everything must be carried in by backpack and all waste must be carried out. During the summer hiking season they employed people to carry large loads up to the huts. When I say "large", I'm talking about 100 pounds of food and/or supplies! The last thing a guy wants to carry back down the mountain is a bunch of leftover pancakes! The only thing that is not carried out by backpack is human waste. Periodically a helicopter would fly in and take out the tank from the outhouse. All of this is done to protect the fragile mountain environment.
   After my pancake feast, I waddled down the trail with a big smile on my face. Nothing makes a backpacker happy like a full belly of food! I was getting deeper into the White Mountains. The elevation was getting higher. I knew that Mount Washington and the Presidential range was ahead. It was going to be a bigger challenge than I could imagine.
   2011 update:  This morning I weighed in at 168.6 pounds. I went running again in my neighborhood. The 3.4 mile route through my neighborhood is gradually getting easier to run. I just had a big plate of spagetti for lunch. Perhaps it will be a salad for supper! I have 3.6 pounds to trim off. When I look at myself in a mirror I don't see the big gut anymore! Just a little bit of  "love handles" to trim off!