Looking back is good. The Whites were hard in many ways for me so somehow I had tarnished all of New Hampshire with the same impression of fog and frustration.
I had forgotten some of this beauty.
Trapper John Shelter - I never made the pilgrimage to since it didn't fit into our schedule and .3 of a mile becomes .6 if you are merely going to visit and snap a picture of a shelter named for an imaginary graduate of Dartmouth College.
Mr Bill, though is mere steps from the Trail and his generosity would be worth a much longer hike. He opens his yard (and electricity) to say nothing of his generous heart and freezer full of icecream to all who come by. A Trail Angel well worth the time to visit. For days after when the trek became hard Greyhound and I would joke about turning around and going back to his beautiful house to visit.
But we continued on through and made our way to Happy Hiker Hostel. Loved the folk but it was more chaotic than my other hostel experiences and somehow not as restful. Might have been the fact I was allergic to the laundry soap, which I only discovered while hiking the next day or just the noise (including the hubbub of a very family style breakfast) which I really should have been used to. We did two days of slack packing including south bounding across Mount Moosilauke and then headed out with felt even heavier than usual packs on our way to Eliza Brooks Shelter.
Met a pair of wonderful women at Eliza Brooks - the woman pictured ( who I have much to my chagrin forgotten the actual name of) will always be referred to as the maker of coffee. We had infront of us a hard day of hiking*, but we couldn't agree to make coffee before we headed out. We had sadly come to the conclusion that it would take too much time. She decided she would see us off in good style - happily caffeinated.
*Harder than even she knew as I took my worse fall of the hike - more about that later.