(Hand me the ringer, chop-chop!)

Vermont was a blast. It was great to get back into mountains, see some views and enjoy actual wilderness again, fleeting though it was. I scooted through Vermont's 150 miles in 6 days, going over ski slopes (walking up a green circle... not as easy as skiing down it) and moose droppings. Did you know that moose are scary? I didn't until my first night in Vermont when some local hikers were talking about how they're more scared of moose than they are of bears. A bear will only maim you, a moose will flatten you leaving naught but a hiker pancake.

Of the five nights I camped in Vermont, only two of them were with other people. I had shelters all to myself three nights in a row, and didn't see many people during those days either. Eerie. I met a handful of people doing the Long Trail, a 280 mile trek from the MA/VT border up to Canada, presumably for some french fries and gravy. I can't imagine any other reason to go to Canada.

I made it to Hanover, NH in time to get picked up there by Mom and Dad (thanks so much for making it a breeze to get out to Seattle, 'rents!) and then fly to Jason and Becca's wedding. Airports are always disconcerting after months in the wilderness with like-minded souls, but Seattle itself was really nice. I even managed to get new shoes there, after throwing out the old ones with about 600 too many miles on them.

A 757 fuel pump encouraged me to take an extra day in Seattle, so I got to wander around town and soak in a really beautiful day. That did mean I'm a day farther behind than I'd planned, making my goal of finishing on August 11th a bit harder. No worries, as long as I have food and legs I can make it.

After finally getting back to Hanover and running a few errands, I headed northwards again... this time stopping after only 17 miles because the new shoes were brutalizing my ankle. I ended up taking a day off at the shelter 17 miles north of Hanover to heal up and wait out some bad weather, which was a great call in the end. Yesterday I covered 27 miles from that shelter to Glencliff, NH and a really nice hostel that shuttled me to wallyworld to replace my camera and sleep on a real, dry bunk. (Oh, did I not mention that on the day my ankle was killing me, my camera died too? It was a good day. My tent also collapsed during the night, getting all of my stuff wet. The sob story could continue, but I've been told that parentheticals shouldn't be too long, lest we forget we're in one.)

I'm about to leave Glencliff and start the White Mountains... today I ascend Mt. Mooselauke (a 3500' climb), and then two other decent hills (1500' and 2000', respectively), ending at a hut where I'm hoping to "work for stay". Ideally that work will entail sitting around looking beautiful, but we'll see.