Section Hiker, Weather Watcher (Part 3): Bail

Monday, June 5 , 2023 – Bail 

Pitch black and time to get up. Rattling windows, pelting rain. I reach up for the hooks above my head to stuff yesterday’s damp hiking clothes into the bottom of my sleeping bag. Turn over, waiting for them to turn dry and warm. I need to get up and not just lie here thinking about getting up. I reach down to the bottom of my bag, pull on my cold damp tee shirt, pants and socks. Sit up and proceed to bang my head. Swear.  

Over breakfast, the weather report from Mount Washington: 32 degrees on the summit, winds with gusts of up to 70 miles per hour. It feels like 17 degrees out there with the wind chill. We are all grateful for our choice to head down and change plans. Everyone else at the hut is doing the same thing except a few hardy, or fool-hardy, young hikers who are heading to Galehead. Even Stick chooses not to risk it and will miss filling in the last 8 miles he had to Galehead. He’s headed off instead for his last hurrah at Katahdin.  

It feels warmer out here at the breakfast table than it did last night for dinner. I’m adding to my list of other gear to bring, a warmer jacket. I’m glad this morning to have my hat and vest. 

Before we head down the trail, Barb shows me numerous adjustments to my pack to keep the belt from slipping too low and banging my thighs which it did all day yesterday.  Perhaps I’ll grow to like this pack? 

I’m ready as can be. The crew croons their encouragement, “Stay upright. It’s slippery. Go slow and careful.” 

Again, “Be careful.”

I look around the beautiful room that has been our warm home and shelter from the storm. So grateful for the time here. Vow: Go home and get that jacket. Keep writing, it’s home. Keep coming to the mountains, they are home. Keep making home in community. Don’t let Jen beat you at cards tonight.  

And now, the far end of another day, and here at Zealand Hut and making home on the top bunk again. This night, learning to duck my head and change out of my wet hiking clothes in the bathroom.  

It’s been a good day. A long slow descent down the Old Carriage Path. Impossible to believe that donkeys ever used to trek up a trail as rocky, steep and slippery as promised.

Roger was waiting to pick us up and drive us over to Twin Mountain where will take the Zealand Trail into the hut. We stop for a hot burger, hot coffee. I inhale it all, amazed at being so ravenous.  

The Zealand Trail is a dream. After yesterday’s rocky ascent, howling wind and snow, this afternoon a gift of a slow meander on a lush smooth trail by ponds and bogs. We see our first lady slipper (!) and count 67 on our way to the hut. This, my sweet spot of walking in the woods.   

And when we arrive at the hut, the gift of a quick dunk in a perfect size hollow in the stream. Shivery delight.  

Last night we were all inspired by the group of young adults at Greenleaf who completed the Junior Naturalist Program and most importantly were bestowed bright badges before we left the hut this morning. This afternoon we spend the afternoon and evening learning about contours, tools we need to care for trails, how to spell Carrigain.  After dinner, we send Pat out to the porch to listen to the Naturalist Program and learn how Zealand gets its power. (Solar) 

Tomorrow we too will have earned our own badges.