The Gang of Four brain trust burned the (hiker) midnight oil trying to solve the conundrum of how to slack pack north of Gorham, where the roads are 25+ miles apart. We were also concerned about the possible issue of hurricane rain in the Mahoosuc Notch on Tuesday. [Note: In a break with tradition, the Editorial Board of this journal has made the conscious decision not to refer to the Notch as “the most difficult mile on the AT,” making us the only journal to be posted this year not to do so…] Every crazy scheme we explored, our friend Suuz said, “Yes, I can do that!” and in the end, we decided to put in a very long day to Carlo Col Shelter and position ourselves to go through the Mahoosuc Notch before the hurricane remnants arrive, and allow Suuz to pick us up at Grafton Notch on Tuesday. Carrying two and a half days of food instead of five has a major impact on pack weight. And if all goes as planned, Suuz can support us for an easy day and a re-supply on Wednesday.

To squeeze every possible advantage out of the day, while Alison drove us to the US 2 trailhead, Susan took our packs up to Hogan Road, as the first 7/10 mile of the AT today was on the road. We thus breezed through the first ten minutes before we even saw our backpacks. However, this strategy must have offended the mountain gods, as they sent us unexpected rain about a mile into the hike. It didn’t last more than a few hours, but the residual effect of wet rocks and roots slowed us down the rest of the day.

At Gentian Pond, two southbound day hikers (with dogs) had told us to be on the lookout for a moose, and sure enough, she was still there when we arrived. We took our longest break of the day watching her peacefully eat, drink and swim, oblivious to us on the other side of the pond. N was quite relieved to check “moose sighting” off his AT “to do” list. Our 17-mile day also allowed us to check off two other items: crossing 1,900 miles and entering our 14th and final state.

By the time we got close to the New Hampshire/Maine border, we were really rushing to reach the shelter before dark. As a result, when we came to three very steep sections of trail (the word “diabolical” comes to mind), we weren’t being as careful as we needed to be, and falls and near spills abounded. Kleenex fared the worst with a bloody elbow scrap, but hopefully will be no worse than a little sore in the morning.

Still, seeing that Maine sign after all these weeks was very emotional for all of us. We are now no longer “going to Maine.” We are going to Kathadin!

One final note on Susan’s visit. We can’t describe how much it meant for her to bring communion to us from St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Corinth, Mississippi. X has done this service many times for our nursing home and shut-in communicants back home, but making this connection with our supportive friends so far away was really special. And the scripture reading from the Song of Solomon 2:8-13 seemed so appropriate as we transition from New Hampshire to Maine: “leaping upon the mountains, bounding over the hills… Now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone…”