The Winter Whites: Day 2

The Sunday $8.95 breakfast buffet at Welch’s Restaurant in Gorham is the only deal in town on Sunday morning. Where else in Gorham do you get a live acoustic guitar rendition of Here Comes the Sun with your individually prepared omlet? Welch’s is easy on Rt. 2, adjacent to the abandoned Mobil station, across the street from the empty insurance company.
Right now the ‘Goon and I are leisurely reading the Sunday NY Times. Waiting for our Room 7 pals to get mobile. After they get back from breakfast The plan is to strike up the Carter-Moriah Trail off Rt 2 and see how far we feel like suffering until we turn around and make for the cars to head home.
It was no walk in the park, compared to the relatively gradual first 2 miles up Nineteen Mile Brook yesterday. In fact, the side of the pyramid entry path immediately shot right up out of the parking lot at the end of Bangor St. , with Rangoon once again leaving a vapor trail, his trail thickning with the increase of the angle of the footpath.

This initial two miles was an unrelenting up. Toward the top we encountered two dicey ledges that would have dashed bones to broken piles if we somehow neglected to strap metal screws or twisted wires to the bottom of our footwear.
Two miles and some 2,000 verticle feet later, Ohm and I were begging for mercy and filing a special request that no matter what, where we were be considered the top of Mt. Surprise and that we retreat, and start gulping Peanut M&M’s as soon as we sheltered ourselves from the cold.
On the way down, I wish I had a whole functioning body so that I could slide down the steep sections like everyone else, but I was just too sore and hobbled to risk an out of control hit. The known wincing steps I took were better than the possible downsides of unrestrained luge-like velocity.
It’s been a long time since I hiked up these snowcapped trails in the Whites.
I’ll be back. There’s nothing here that three ibuprofen can’t help.
Where on earth can a guy like me get a chance to hike in formation with the likes of these genuine souls, unheralded veterans of five to six months of living in the woods, true knowers of a unfettered take on 21st century life?

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