I stopped short and looked up while breathing heavily. The massive boulders – that now served as our trail – towered above me. Despite that I had climbed straight up for what seemed like forever, the peak was still nowhere in sight. Before even setting foot on this trail I had been warned about the tough and straight up climbs in The White Mountains in New Hampshire. And there was no doubt that the fearmongers had been right.

I looked around and contemplated my next move. Not only was trail pretty much non-existent, but the boulder I was on was wet from rain which made it slippery. To avoid a fall, my best bet was to grab onto the trees and roots that lined the edges of it.

I wrapped my hand around a tree but pulled it back just as quick again. My hand had landed right on an orange slug, leaving me with a nasty slime in my palm. It wasn’t the first time that had happened.

Tang and I had set out from Hikers Welcome Hostel early that morning. Many hikers decided to leave their big pack at the hostel and only take a daypack with them (aka slackpack) over Mt. Moosilauke. And while the other hikers only planned to hike about 10 miles that day, we were doing 28 miles.

– That’s a really big day in the Whites… Are you taking all your gear with you?

The hostel manager was skeptical, which in turn made me nervous. Had we underestimated how hard this would be? We knew this section would slow us down, but still hoped to do milage in the upper 20’s. Maybe even that was too high?

– They’re more than capable of making it to Lincoln tonight.

Chipotle came to our defense. Having hiked with us since New York he knew our hiking style. And even though I know my own capacity, his words had a reassuring effect on me.

And he was right. We made it to Lincoln by 7.30 pm, where a ride was waiting for us to take us to a local trail angel. Hiking up the long and steep ascent of Mt. Moosilauke at 4802 feet left us exhausted but excited. We had completed our first 4k peak and our first day in the Whites.

Above tree line at Franconia Range

After spending an extra day in Lincoln – feasting on cinnamon rolls, coffee and Reese’s chocolate – due to another flood watch and pouring rain, we hiked out the day after to take on the beautiful Franconia Range. And even though it took more than 1800 miles, I finally got to see views similar to Pacific Crest Trail and Continental Divide Trail.

Looking at the trees from above, surrounded by clear blue skies and mountains, I was reminded of what it feels like to be on a thru-hike. I forgot about all those steps that I’ve taken up until that point, and the endless dark forest.

But the feeling didn’t last long. The beauty of Franconia disappeared way too soon and before I knew it, I was back under the trees again.

Luckily the day had more beautiful views in store. By sunset we hiked into Ethan Pond Shelter, a shelter overlooking a beautiful pond. Even though it was getting dark when we got into camp, I was able to enjoy the sunset while filling up my water filter before settling in.

Arriving at Lake of the Clouds hut

Even though we got into camp late, it was time to get going again at 4 am. Today we would hit Mount Washington, notoriously famed for its strong winds and thunderstorms. We knew there were bad weather coming in in the afternoon and planned to make the summit around noon. The plan was to make it back to the tree line before the bad weather would set in.

But like most things on a thru-hike, things don’t turn out as planned.

Not able to keep the pace we wanted because of the grey and wet weather, we had to take refuge in the huts. The huts are small cabins with seasonal staff where you can sleep, eat and rest while hiking the Whites.

When realizing we wouldn’t make the summit by noon, we decided to stop for the day at Lake of the Clouds, the biggest hut in the Whites and the last one before summiting Mount Washington.

According to the staff in other huts this one offered both work for stay, where hikers can help out with the dinner for paying guests in exchange for eating leftover dinner and sleeping on the floor in the hut. It also offered a few bunks in what was known as “The Dungeon”, a small space reminding me of what a medieval prison cell must have looked like.

As always, I was torn about our decision about stopping early. Bad weather did come in, but only lasted for a short time. And even though I was dry and warm, it didn’t take long for the relief of not having to hike any further to be replaced by restlessness and boredom.

Work for stay

We hung around the lounge and by late afternoon it was decided that we would help with dinner and do work for stay. After clearing the tables and doing some sweeping, we finally got the leftover dinner and dessert. I had been daydreaming about since we got into the hut. With my hiking hunger setting back in, the well-prepared food felt like heaven, and was a welcomed break from usual dinner consisting of cold ramen and tuna in a packet.

Although the floor of the hut felt cozy and warm against the raging wind outside the window, I woke up in the middle of the night. Tired and groggy I stumbled into the bathroom. Looking into the mirror I noticed a swelling around my eye. Discarding it as tiredness I went back to bed.

Summiting Mt. Washington and beyond

When I woke up the next morning the swelling had gotten worse. The sleep deprivation and disfigured face made me feel both sad, anxious and mad all at the same time. I didn’t want to be on this trail anymore. I didn’t want to hike 4000 feet peaks with straight up climbs. And I sure as hell didn’t want to hike back out in bad weather.

Aware of my mood, I stayed behind Tang and Chipotle as we made our way up to the summit of Mt. Washington. Although the weather forecast had predicted a clear morning, it was anything but. Instead, we fought our way through grey and wet mist. Luckily, we could take a quick break at the next hut after our descent from Mt. Washington and heat up with some tasty pastries and coffee.

The day had pretty much continued the way it started. I continued on to slip on a wet log, which bruised my leg badly. As if my swollen eye wasn’t enough, I now had a big bump on my leg too (which stayed on my leg for weeks even after finishing trail). It wasn’t until we arrived at the Pinkham Notch Center that the sun came out and felt like I could catch my breath and recuperate.

Longest and hardest day on trail

Knowing we had another slow going 13 miles to do, with several 4K’ers to climb, we eventually pulled ourselves away from the visitor center. We ducked back in under the trees and left the afternoon sun behind us. When we reached Carter Notch Hut at around 6.30 PM we decided to stop for dinner and seize the opportunity to get a bowl of warm soup into us.

Carter Notch Hut is considered to be one of the smallest hut in the Whites. Without any seating inside, we had to resort to a couple of benches along the house wall. I was cold and it was about to get dark. And we still had another 7,2 miles to go. Normally it wouldn’t bother me, as I would only count another couple of hours before getting into camp. But The Whites were a whole different ballgame. The usual 3 miles per hour did not apply here. I was getting antsy to just get up and go.

– Are you guys doing the AT?  

Like so many others before him, one of the visitors who was staying the night at the hut stopped short to talk to us about his own adventures on the AT.

I consider myself to be a curious person and would normally engage in conversation eager to find out more about his adventures. But being all drained of energy, I just wanted him to leave. The others seemed to be thinking the same thing and shortly thereafter we were on our way again.

The minute we turned the corner away from the hut, we looked up only to see another straight up climb. Tang did the only sane thing one can do when they find themselves on the AT, staring up at a kickass climb at 7.30 PM in the Whites – she started laughing hysterically.

Yet again I had to thank whatever trail god there might be for making me cross paths with these wonderful people, who could keep their spirit up when I’d lost mine.

We spent the rest of the night moving in what felt like slow motion. Going up was slow, but going down was even slower. The dark and slippery rocks forced us to consider every step and hold on to every branch we could get a hold of.

11 pm arrival

It was past 11 PM when we made it to the campsite. The shelter had a few scattered spaces that we could cram into, but we were reluctant to wake everybody up. We decided to look for a decent spot to pitch our tents instead. But the dark made it impossible to get a good overview and our headlights were drained on battery from using them for several hours already. We made the decision to set up in the shelter.

As per usual, I got my sleeping pad out and blew it up. I placed it in the corner closest to the opening of the shelter under the other hiker’s packs. Then I placed my sleeping bag and pillow on top of it and hoped I wouldn’t be in anyone’s way in the morning.

Self-reflection in a privy

I had hiked for about 16 hours on a bad night’s sleep. But even though I was exhausted, I needed some time to myself. I picked up my pack and sneaked off to the privy to change into my sleeping clothes in the crummy little space. I looked down at my bare feet while standing on top of my wet shoes. They were barely visible from all the mud that covered them, and I had to balance carefully so that I wouldn’t touch the nasty floor.

Suddenly it hit me. I had been out here in these miserable conditions for almost three months. This was the same kind of condition that I had experienced on pretty much any outdoor activity at home. The reason why I decided to travel all across the world to do a thru-hike was so that I could escape it. Instead, I had gotten it tenfold. For how much longer was I willing to endure it? Was it worth the time, money and effort it had cost me so far?

After changing into my sleeping gear, I stepped out of the privy and sat on the steps leading up to it. I finished off my last item in my food bag – a small bag of peanuts. With heavy and tiring steps, I then stumbled back to the shelter.

Skipping out the Whites

Despite the long day and late night before, I woke up early to the sound of the other hikers getting ready to hike out.

– Sorry for coming in so late and waking you up last night.

Staying at shelter means you must accept lack of privacy and the fact that other people will be making noise. But I still felt the need to apologize. We carried on telling them about our day before and where we had started from.

– You hiked 28 miles?! We did 11 miles yesterday and thought that was long!

Doing 28 miles yesterday meant we only had about 10 miles to hike for the day. And since we woke up early and got an early start, we would make it town in time for breakfast. Which was well-needed since I was all out of food.

In contrast to the day before, I felt as though I was skipping along trail all morning. Even our last 4K:er in the Whites seemed to be over before I even realized I had passed it. Our last few miles were a wide, flat, wonderful stretch of trail, making my heart jump with joy.  

We made it to town by late morning. Our first stop was a local coffee shop where I ordered several cups of coffee and a breakfast sandwich.

I only had 298,5 miles to Katahdin.