Trusting myself – the walk

I finished my walk of the Trail of the Appalaches on July 22! Now that I have a time of inactivity, I will be finishing my blog for the walk.

I tasted my time in Hanover, New Hampshire as a last meal.

From my day of previous experiences, walk and making weekend trips at New Hampshire and Maine, I knew what the ones I was in was. From now on to Katahdin, there were no «easy» miles.

Crossing the border towards NH was exciting and discouraging. I reflected how far had arrived, traveling on foot through 12 states and now I faced the reality that only two left. During most of the path, my mentality has been to take everything day by day. Although on some of the cruise days in Vermont, Katahdin’s thoughts began to get into my mind, and began to understand the reality that I could complete my trip. However, when I entered New Hampshire, I will quickly banish all the thoughts of the end and Maine, to the deepest abyss of my brain: first I had to address whites. But since I was in the city and in the spirit of taking things day by day, I thought I could enjoy Hanover while I can.

The few hiking miles from Norwich, VT to Hanover, NH were incredible, although not in the impressive scenic sense. With a few hours between leaving the camp and walking around the city to replenish, they reviewed me mentally since everything I wanted were my traditional cravings of hot coffee and a breakfast sandwich, the city’s tasks were secondary. I tasted the remaining miles to Norwich when the path passed through residential neighborhoods and suburban roads, a gift from heaven, since it could record easy miles without paying attention to the ground or my steps.

I sat outside Norwich’s Dan and Whit’s General Store at a picnic table and did an easy job of two breakfast sandwiches, three cups of coffee and a handful of donuts and cakes one day before working on some of my «tasks» during the day. After issuing some equipment and refueling, I was ready to go to New Hampshire’s border. After another highway walk, I crossed the Connecticut river to state number 13 and Hanover.

The city was harassed while visiting an event of alumni and family, and with my fatty hair, sweat -spotted shirt and a grimace on my shoulders, I easily stood out among all those attending the well -dressed peoples. I take a few turns around the city before wandering the quad of Dartmouth to sit and call some friends and family.

After a few more hours of resting around Dartmouth, I grabbed dinner, I started the band and re -entered the desert to a camp a couple of miles to the north. The following days along the way served as a strong warming for what was going to come in the whites. Although the land was something similar to what I had seen in southern Vermont, the rocks were larger, they rise more strenuous and significantly more rewarding views.

I consider myself a type B personality,

And my hiking style reflects that. The biggest structure I will have is to choose which city to replenish. I trust myself that I can cover the distance before my 3-4 days of food are exhausted and discover the logistics of entering and leaving the city on the march. Although there have been two or three times when I have gotten off, this system has not yet failed me. However, whites would require more careful planning. Part of me knew that I should have done an investigation and logistics planning in Hanover, but one thing I have learned is that any advance plan will be altered quickly or will discard completely, so I thought I would wait until my next replenishment.

Tired and Mohoso of the last days of rain

I arrived at Rt. 25 and walked the half mile along the way to Hiker’s welcome shelter, where I planned to resume quickly and address Mount Moosilauke, the unofficial entrance of the white mountains, later that day.

I understood that whites would be much more technical than anything south of me. Much of what I had heard was not expecting anything more than 20 miles, so it was much more difficult to calculate how long it would take to point to point B. In a nutshell, I had no idea how much food I would need to wear low and risk exhausting and being miserable, being high and loading a heavy and descending package 4000 footballs and technical rocks for days; I thought I was talking to the shelter caregivers, they will have the greatest amount of information.

I opened the door to the welcome hikers to see seven other hikers gathered around the table of the common room while the caregiver, the restart, whom I met at Angel’s Rest Hostel in Virginia, is sitting in the middle. In front of her there is a huge map of the white mountains, a couple of markers and a notes. I observe from the corner as restart conferences on the AMC HUT system, the rescue points, the notable peaks, the alpine areas and the replenishment options while its kind of hikers takes notes diligently.

Although he understood the difference in the field, what he did not know was the logistics nightmare that whites would be. Among the limitations of AMC in the dispersed camp, the irregular cell service and the planning necessary to enter Lincoln (one of the only two accessible cities). I decided that it would be better to take the rest of the day and walk tomorrow, allowing me a little more time to prepare.

There was a lot of fear about whites, and for a good reason: the terrain is much more difficult, the climbing will feel almost endless, the climate can change extremely fast and navigate the AMC regulations presents another set of difficulties. Many shelters talked about their plans for the following days: what was the best approach, what was the most difficult section and what would be a realistic period. I wasn’t sure what to do, was it smarter to freely follow my classmates’ plans or try to go from once?

I made plans with my parents to gather in a parking lot of a side path that came down from the presidentials in four days, which was approximately 80 miles. For insurance, I decided to have an additional day of food if I end up moving slower than expected or necessary to wait for the weather. Although I knew I was not trying anything particularly crazy, my goal was still ambitious. Although I knew I had the aptitude and familiarity with the hiking of northern New England, I only had to trust myself. However, I was worried about whether or not my trust was arrogance. If the latter, I was sure that whites would certainly humiliate me if necessary, but I was excited by the challenge.

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