Aug. 25 and 26: Zero day and reentry to the trail

- Aug. 25: Gorham to Gorham, 0 trail miles

I zeroed in Gorham but foolishly did not go to the Super Wal-Mart to resupply, which I would regret later.

On the good side, my loaner pack arrived in the afternoon. I mailed my broken-down pack [it broke near Lincoln, NH, which I note here] to California with a deliberately-worded letter of complaint tucked inside. Gregory, the company that made it, has told me they will repair the pack damage. I doubt it. The mainstay came completely undone from the bottom of the pack.

The weather alternated between brilliant sunshine and quick downpours all day long.

- Aug. 26: Gorham to Imp Shelter, 13.1 trail miles

I hitched a ride back to the Pinkham Notch visitors center to resume my hike. The center had already stopped serving breakfast so I had an early morning burger. My new earbuds, cheapies from Rite Aid, fell out of my ears repeatedly as I began walking. The third time they got wrapped around one of my trekking poles, and in a fit, I threw the pole down the trail. The earbuds were no more.

The hike took me 1,940 feet straight up Wildcat Mountain immediately. At the top I wrung my shirt out and got some sun while talking to an older hiker who was in the process of making up the miles he'd skipped on a 2002 thru hike.

I checked in at the last of the AMC mountain huts, Carter Notch hut, to drink a bunch of water, read the register and eat some snacks. On my way out I passed Brave Little Toaster and his dog, Pork, and Frank N. Stein.

The trail went up a grueling 1,480 feet and settled into a ridge walk with clear views of the Whites on all sides; the sun fell directly behind Mt. Washington. I was very tempted to stealth camp on Mt. Hight. But I was behind most people I knew, so I hiked.

I was hiking in the dark with my headlamp when Frank N. Stein caught up. The 1,000 feet slab ride down from North Carter Mountain had been fearsome - wet slabs, vertical drops, swinging from young pines and tree roots in the dark - I could only imagine how difficult it must be for Toaster and the dog.

At Imp, the shelter was the only place we could stay; the tent platforms were full. The shelter was crowded and dark. It was 9:15 p.m. I cooked up a double Ramen dinner outside the shelter. I crashed hard.