Author Archives: atsioneva

What’s to say? This is the Maine event! 

I left Gentian Pond Shelter after a quick look at the beaver-dam pond, and immediately started climbing up Mt. Carlo. Not a tough climb, comparatively speaking, and I was feeling pretty pumped up, because the Maine border was only a few miles off. There were about four of us who left the shelter about the same time, and we travelled as a loosely clustered group most of the day.

After Mt. Carlo was Carlo Col shelter – since there was no water on the 5 mile stretch between the two shelters, there was no choice but to get water there. One of us went down with a huge waterproof bag, and brought back up enough water for all, while I watched his pack. Water and snack break there… The border was only 2 miles or so off.

Successful crossing of border. Much rejoicing! Then… Oh, boy. The madness began. 

Goose Eye Mt. I really and truly hated this one. The rain began shortly before the climb, and it never let up. It only intensified. There are three separate peaks you had to climb, with little peaks in between, so it was never clear exactly where you were. And parts were above treeline, so you were getting lashed from all directions by wind and rain. Sometimes, steep rock scrambles up, sometimes steep rock scrambles down. Wooden ladders at points, and at other times, huge metal rungs. Sometimes it was just grip and pray. I am an expert buttscooter down steep declines by now, but I met my match; once or twice I did some involuntary sliding down ten feet or more. How I escaped without injury, I can only attribute to a guardian angel, because it was truly scary. Maine was tough from the start and I did not at all enjoy it.

Come about 6:00, one of the other hikers and I were hiking together, the other two were up ahead. It was dark under the trees (when it wasn’t above treeline), the rain was sheeting down, mist was swirling, we were on a steep descent, it was truly scary. I fell several times, and my knees were really killing. But what can you do? You suck it up and keep moving, because you can’t do anything else. Finally, after one last ladder, we reached the shelter.

It was huge, about four times as wide as a normal shelter. And it was full. They managed to sardine me in though, and Scott put up his tent. I was soaked, miserable, hungry. First step was to change into dry clothes, and that is when I realized I was missing a sock. No dry clean socks for Ziptie until Andover in three days! Dry clothes on, I squeezed my sleeping gear into the allotted space, and the started boiling water for my pasta dish.

While it was boiling, I rolled and ate a tortilla packed with tuna and a tortilla packed with cheese and pepperoni bits. I was starving. And the pasta sauce, after it cooked, was extremely cheesy, hot, and tasty. It warmed me up inside.

Then it was time for sleep, and that brought another moment of recognition. I had shipped my winter sleeping bag home, and though the sardining provided warmth, it was still wet and cold out there, and my legs in particular were cold, since I had been wearing my longer pants that day, which were now soaked; all I had on were shorts. 

I improvised. My fleece jacket became leg warmers, with a leg in each sleeve, and the chest area pulled up to the hemline of the shorts. Hey, it worked, and I was able to sleep. 

It is still cold and windy today as I type this, though it is supposed to clear up this afternoon, and I am still lying in my sleeping bag to stay warm. 

You see, I decided to zero here at this very big shelter. Firstly, to give my knees a rest, they were hurting bad. Second, because tomorrow is Mahoosuc Notch, a famous challenge on the AT, described as ” the most difficult or fun mile” on the whole trail. A solid mile of jumbled boulders, rock scrambling to the nth! But not something to be attempted in the rain, or extremely wet, at least by me. I fall too much in wet conditions. Besides, I want to enjoy it, I have looked forward to doing it for a long time!

So I lie alone in a shelter, typing. Alone, save for the bird that keeps hopping in, looking for leftover crumbs. Now and then another hiker walks by, and I wave, or chat if they stop. My clothes are hung up all over to dry, and though part of me still feels like I am wimping out, I am content this was the right decision. The safest, at least. Those falls yesterday shook me. Maine is rough.

Side note: it was like a trading post at The shelter this morning. I have away toilet paper, peanut butter, and an extra Knorr dinner, I got a moon pie, ibuprofen, and a refill of my water bottles.

Yesterday also marked my 4th month on the trail, and I am closing in on 900 miles. Slow progress, but you know, I wouldn’t change a thing. Maybe I will be able to finish it all, maybe I won’t, but I wouldn’t have it otherwise. The southern section is a lot easier, I should be able to make up some miles there, after I finish Maine. Less than 280 trail miles to Katahdin now!

I hike on.

I was up dim and early this morning, with enough time to feet and sigh over my budget, before devouring a delicious breakfast burrito and chocolate chip muffin. And COFFEE! Then some reorganizing, and somehow managing to get the now bulging food bag into the backpack – a big shoutout here to Rebecca Hueske for meat and then some! All in all, it was 9:30 when I started hiking.

The first 3 miles were an absolute joy. A pleasant walk in the woods, gradually wending uphill. In my usual over-optimism, I thought I was going faster than I actually was, but that’s happened before. 

Mt. Hayes was pretty much all pleasant stroll up; Cascade Mt. was all rock scramble. Now that I think of it, the 12 mile stretch I did today had multiple personality disorder. Or did not know what it wanted to be, so tried to be everything. There were thick, sullen, muddy patches; there were boards laid out over liquid mud; there were serious rock scrambles; there was strolls in the woods; there were whalebacks of solid granite. 

There was also a lot of mica in the stone. I caught myself singing something about following the silver rock road. Of course, no idea where that came from. Really.

And, at the end, as if to give me a shot of adrenaline to finish it off, someone up there threw an angry beaver into the mix. I was heading downhill to Gentian Pond, which was created because of a beaver dam, and sure enough, beaver in the path. I stopped short, we stared at each other for a second, then it indicated It’s displeasure with me by hissing, and making to jump at me. I knew I should have gotten a haircut. It had to be the untidy hair. I beat as hasty a retreat as I could stumble back up the path, and watched. A few minutes later, having shown me my place, the beaver went on it’s way, and I was able to continue. The other hikers at the shelter when I arrived reported similar encounters of the beaver kind. It was surreal.

Settled in for the night now, and looking forward to tomorrow. And the next day. More on that tomorrow!

I hike on!

I caught myself smiling today as I hiked. I couldn’t help it. The day simply called for it. Everything was so nicely aligned – a few peaks to climb and descend, a gondola ride to look forward to, a chance to end the day with a hot shower and to sleep in a real bed. What more could anyone ask for?

Well, there was one thing more, and it came unheralded and unasked for. When Eric from the hostel came to pick me up, and we got our of the van, he said “Welcome home.”

Welcome home.

He had no idea what those words came to mean to me, but it just felt so right. Done with the Franconia Ridge Mts, the Presidentials, the Carters, the Wildcats. Time to lay the pack down for the night and enjoy a feeling of accomplishment. Welcome home. Have a beer.

And the gondola ride is something to write about as well! I thought I would be scared, especially since a stiff breeze was making it sway some, but I loved it! It was only $7.50, took 13 minutes, and saved me from 3+ hours hiking down a very steep, wet, dangerous section that everyone, including other hikers I passed on the trail, was telling me not to do. So I did not do!

My pack is heavy all over again… I resupplied at Wal-Mart and am carrying a full five days of food again. I have passed out of the range of the AMC huts and their convenient food options – I am really going to miss them!

I hiked on.

I had this huge long blog entry typed out yesterday and ready to publish when I had network, but the app ate it, so I must needs start all over again. Let’s see…

Sluggish, slow, unwilling to move Ziptie. The day was gray. The ground was wet. The sleeping bag was warm. And the schedule called for a late start. I did not hit the trail until about 10, and that very reluctantly.

I had been warned that the first climb, up North Carter Mt. would be steep and rocky. Well, it was, but much to my delight, my kind of steep and rocky. The kind of hand over hand climbing up rockfaces that requires total concentration and total awareness of one’s hands and feet positions at all times. Even more so because the rock was wet and hence slippery – but I was back to grippy granite instead of the sharp, craggy white rocks of the Presidentials that only hurt your hands.

After the challenge at North Carter, Middle Carter was rather an anticlimax. In fact, I wasn’t even sure when I reached the summit – there was no view and no sign. The path was sand and rock, nothing hard, but I am completely amazed by how different the mountains are on either side of Pinkham Notch- on one side, the Presidentials, on the other, dirt, sand, rock and pine. Amazing contrast!

One concern I did have was a five mile stretch with no water sources, but just before Zeta Pass on the trail, I heard the unmistakable bubbling of an unmarked spring, and a spring there was! I refilled my Camelbak, drank deep, refilled it again, then had a snack. I was refreshed and ready for any new challenges that lay ahead!

Except… There were not any! At least right away. The climb up Mt. Hight was a straightforward path up, easy to do. Likewise up Carter Dome. Both were rumored to have great views, but both were in the clouds. I did get a good picture on Mt. Hight, which I will try to upload later, illustrating what ‘in the clouds’ means.

My time schedule called for me to be at Carter Notch Hut, last of the AMC huts, after 5 pm, so I could do work for stay. As I summited Carter Dome, I was worried I would be too early, but I didn’t account for the ‘notch’ part of it – the trail does a deep v-line plunge down and back up again, and the hut sits at the bottom. It took a good chunk of time to reach it!

I was successful in getting a WFS spot, and very grateful for it – There were several downpours that night, but I was inside and dry. Happy. I am really going to miss those huts. Aside from WFS, I enjoyed being able to stop in, buy soup, lemonade, & baked goods, and fill up my water bottles for free. Lakes of the Clouds and Zeeland Falls were my two favorites. One for the views, and one for the falls! Carter Notch Hut had some pretty ponds nearby, too. 

I hiked on!

The word of the day is “wet”, as that is the current state of – well, pretty much everything!

Breakfast was a buffet of tasty tasty food, and some day reassessment. The forecast for the day, you see, was for rain and possibly strong thunderstorms, particularly up on the high peaks. I studied my maps as I ate – the original two-day plan for this section was high peaks today, and lower-elevations tomorrow. Having no desire to experience a strong t-storm above treeline, I decided to switch it up by hiking southbound instead of northbound, and staying below tree line today instead.

Fortunately, the hostel I was staying at does a daily shuttle to Pinkham Notch from where the northern end of this segment crosses the road. And the shuttle is at 7:30 am, so they had no problem giving me a ride to where I needed to be – in fact, since the hostel is right there, I had a cup of coffee before walking down the driveway and hitting the trail.

The first 2.5 miles or so we’re a hiker’s dream. Trail sloping upwards so gradually you didn’t even realize it. A lovely walk in the woods next to the Rattle River. That it didn’t last of course was a given… This is New Hampshire, and the AT must always, always go UP. About the time the serious up started, so did the thunderstorm…

It didn’t last very long. The thunderstorm part of it. But long enough to make me uncertain if I wanted to get any higher up the mountain; I kept walking, but started scanning for stealth camping spots. Lots of steep rock steps, now wet and slippery. I was very careful. The rain continued though the storm moved on, and I kept hiking. 

All in all, not one of my favorite days. But I did reach the Imp Shelter as planned, roughly eight miles in, so that is good. The caretaker kindly let me change into dry clothes in her large tent, and that instantly made me feel a lot better. Well, so did the hot rum and cocoa I fixed up for myself. 

It is still raining as I type, so I can only hope the weather clears so that my wet clothes and the rocks dry out overnight. The shelter is draped with the wet clothes of four people- me, the two section hikers, and the Chinese thru-hiker from New York named Chickenfeet. He is 68 and hiking the AT – very cool! He snores. Very uncool. 

Ah, tomorrow will be a better day. I plan to cover the Carters, then do work for stay at the Carter Notch Hut. I will finish on Sunday with the Wildcats, ride the gondola down,  stay overnight at the hostel and do some resupply, then move on for Maine. Finally!

I hiccup on!

Oh, people.

The word of the day is euphoria! But it didn’t start that way. I will explain.

I woke up at 5 am in my completely unstealthy stealth camping spot. It had been a kinda restless night, but I got a fair bit of sleep. No large animals (or small ones) disturbed me or my food bag, for which I am grateful. I was packed and on the trail at 6, as soon as it was light out enough to see where I was stepping.

Down, and down, and down. Steeply so. But it started leveling out after about a quarter or third of a mile; I was not very far from the campground at the bottom of the long down after all, but I felt proud of myself for making the right call and camping where I did. It would have been downright dangerous by headlamp at night.

At the campground, I refilled my water, had a pit stop, and chatted with a few hikers packing up. I was the first one on the trail from the campground north, oddly enough. You can always tell. The first to break trail in the morning always gets a faceful of cobwebs along the way.

From the campground to the point where the trail crosses the Mt. Washington auto road was 2.7 miles, and crossed a number of streams, big and small. I had to rockhop all but one – that one had a suspension bridge. Bleh!

This 2.7 mile stretch, I must admit, was very hard on me. Not because the trail was particularly hard, but because I was still feeling worn out from yesterday, I hadn’t had much to eat since breakfast the day before, and psychologically, I was wallowing in a nadir of despair. This post was going to be a plea for encouragement from all of you, but you are spared that. 🙂 Because before I had a chance to cry out to all of you for help, I cried out to God once again to help me get through this, and He works much faster and more directly.

Across the auto road, the AT turns onto the Old Jackson Road. Now a trail, it really was a rutted road once, and the roadish quality remained – I made much better time on it, and in consequence felt better about myself. Answer from God #1.

Along the 2 mile stretch from the auto road to the Notch, I met a group of ladies headed up to a point south. We stopped to chat, and their reaction when I confirmed I was a thru-hiker reminded me all over again that this is an achievement, that this is an accomplishment that other people look up to. Hearing that from a total stranger boosted my morale immensely – I was reminded all over again that there is more to this than endless steep & rocky slopes. Answer from God #2.

I reached Pinkham Notch about 1 pm. As I toured the AMC Visitor Center, the reality that I was finally finished with the Presidential Range started sinking in, and my mood swung toward euphoria. It was impossibly hard, it banged me up, bruised me, made me fall, made me cry, made me hurt… But it didn’t break me, *I* conquered *it*, despite everything, and I walked every step of the way, plus an extra 8 miles on a blue blaze. I am proud of it! 

 My original plan was to reach the Notch, then take a gondola up to the top of Wildcat Mountain, and continue hiking, but as I looked around, I reconsidered. There is a lodge here, as well, and the price, though a bit steep, included an all you can eat dinner buffet and breakfast buffet. Plus, they have an evening astronomy program at 8:30, and we’re on the middle of a meteor shower. Hiking is not all about the miles, but also about the experiences, and I never watched a meteor shower before. I decided to stay. And even though I am not an AMC member, they gave me the AMC rate anyway. Answer from God #3.

The rest of the day was quiet things. I purchased a pair of Mt. Washington shorts that actually fit, to replace the pair threatening to fall down; I read some; I bought some shoe glue to repair my boots; I went and sat by a bubbling stream for a while and took pictures; I ate dinner, which was very good. In about 45 minutes, I’ll be watching for meteors.

Tomorrow, I take the gondola up after breakfast, hike the Wildcats, and part of the Carters. Since today was a short day, tomorrow will be 10 or more miles, but doable since I will be spared the long climb. I figure that since I had to hike almost 8 extra miles because of an injury, I can skip 3 miles of trail to avoid injury – the initial climb up from the Notch to the top of the first Wildcat peak is seriously and dangerously steep and exposed, and it’s supposed to rain tomorrow on top of that. I’ll pass.

I hike on!

The Ziptie is not a quitter. But I cannot deny that as I finished the last of the Presidentials on the AT, it nearly finished me!

The day began with some truly delicious French toast, sausage, a homemade banana nut muffin, and coffee at the White Mountain Hostel. The day ended with a salami and cheese tortilla, hastily rolled, trail mix, and water. And in between? ELEVATION!

First, I had to get back to the AT at Madison Spring Hut, the point I’d left it at. The hostel owners shuttled me back to the trailhead for the blue blaze trail I had taken down, and I began the climb back up – the Hut is at 4800, I estimate I went up about 2500. I arrived there later than I meant, at about 2:00, but rested anyway, had some soup, lemonade, a cookie. The hut crew recognized me and were glad to see me ambulatory. 🙂

I toyed briefly with the idea of staying at the hut, but I had a plan I wanted to stick to, so at 3 pm, I made for the summit of Madison, the longest .5 miles away ever. I kept losing the path, what path there was, in a sea of rocks, so half the time, I just climbed straight up toward the cairns. Compared to what came next, reaching the summit was easy. Elevation there was 5300.

Next was about seven smaller peaks. Nasty rockpiles all, and taking forever to negotiate. And I am sick, sick, SICK of rockpile mountains! Also, on the elevation map, this section of trail looks like it jumps off a cliff. This is not an exaggeration! Even after I got below tree line again, there were still rocks, and then there was this very sharp angle downwards to contend with, too. The campground I was headed for was at 2555 feet, so having climbed about 3000 feet to get to Mt. Madison, I then had to drop about the same amount. Eesh.

The five miles from the Hut to the campground I was aiming for? I never finished them. Not today. When it started to get on to dusk, I started looking for a place to stealth camp. I can’t say that the place I picked out of sheer necessity is particularly stealthy – I set up camp where the trail widened enough for my tent, and still leave room for someone to go by, just in case. But I will be packed up and gone by the time anyone can make it here, I hope. I know I am close to that campground, but I didn’t feel inclined to risk breaking my neck.

This was a very hard day. It was almost heartbreaking to crest a hill and see another hill, over and over. And though I bought knee braces for each knee, they still hurt. They still complain. Earlier, I was almost resolved to give up, but I don’t think I will. I will hit Pinkham Notch tomorrow, and I swear, save for the possible exception of Mt. Washington, I am never entering the Presidential Range ever ever again! You all are my witnesses!

Oh, those knees. C’mon Advil, work! My food bag is hanging, but not properly in a way where bears can’t reach it, so I am simply praying for no ursine visits tonight. I am surrounded by tall pines with no suitable branches within reach.

Ah well.

I hike on.

Wouldn’t you know it, that the day I get back on trail is wet and rainy? 

Anyway, my next scheduled maildrop is in Andover, ME.

General Delivery

C/O Elisabeth Hagen

Andover Post Office

6 Church St.

Andover, ME 04216

I suspect cell reception will be very limited in the woods of Maine. I will keep in touch as I can, once I move into that state.

The Ziptie relaxed today. I wrote some long overdue letters, I watched Spy Game, I lay out in the sun, I napped. A venture out to Wal-Mart was required to purchase a second knee brace and the ingredients for s’mores. 

A campfire tonight was a great treat, sitting around and chatting with other hikers. At this point in time and place, there are equal numbers of northbounders and southbounders, who started from Katahdin. I have serious respect for these people, who are doing the hardest two states before they even have trail legs.

Tomorrow I return to the trail, eager to cover some miles! The middle finger on my right hand is pretty painful – I think I came close to breaking it in a fall, so it is currently taped to the finger next to it until it heals some. I will still be able to grip my poles.

I hike on!

The restlessness begins. It will be worse tomorrow… I want to be back on the trail, but I also want to heal some more. Wednesday, then. 

I discovered that there is some sporting competition going on in Rio, and watched some of it. I went down into downtown Gorham and wandered around some, ate food, came back and had a nap. Not an exciting day, but a necessary one.

Many thanks to Bob and Beverly Coach for the card and gift! I put it to the use intended. 🙂

It is late for a hiker, and I will sleep, but there was a nice campfire tonight, and I regretted not having marshmallows!

I pause.