I am, however, enthused about hiking in this fall weather with the temperature about forty-five degrees Fahrenheit. I am hiking solo, for my usual hiking partners decided against hiking in the rain. But a little rain can’t stop this veteran hiker.
It is too late to sign up with a hiking club or school, so I am now free to hike wherever I want, for as long as I want, alone. I don’t have to stay with the group, eat my snacks with the group, or carry on vacuous banter with some extrovert who wants to “relate.” I can enjoy my true introvert self. My plan is simple and unstructured: I will hike for eight to ten joyous hours today, and hopefully another eight to ten tomorrow, picking trails as I go.
The optimist in me is hoping that the rain will stop and the sun will emerge enough to light up the remaining fall foliage. Referring to New England, Mark Twain made an interesting observation: “If you don't like the weather, wait a minute.” This is especially true of Mt. Washington, infamous for its unstable climate.
I am outfitted in rubberized clothing—green pants and a red hooded anorak—as I arrive at the nearby Pinkham Notch Center operated by the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC). That short walk is not much of a test of the rainworthiness of my outerwear. It would take more rain and some real wind to test this fine outfit.
As I approach the dining hall, the aromas of a hearty New England breakfast fill the air. Bacon—wow, do I love bacon! Joining a small group of fellow hikers in the spacious hall, I note that they are enjoying a wide range of food, from bacon and eggs to all sorts of bakery items. There is also a beverage dispenser offering everything just short of hot toddy. Overcoming the temptation, I choose a breakfast focused on a low-fat, low-carb diet: just fluffy scrambled eggs, one piece of bacon, and water. This is sort of a low-fat version of the classic low-carb Atkins diet. Since I have been on the low-carb diet for weight reduction for the past few weeks, why not continue the low-carb pattern on the mountain? This may be a simple breakfast, but not as simple as the breakfast of one raisin, a raisin that I was told to savor maximally during a “human potential” workshop at Esalen Institute in my distant past in California.
On every organized hiking trip I have ever taken, we have “carbo-loaded”; that is, before and during a hike, we consumed a great deal of carbohydrates. In particular, we ate fruit and candy bars, all laced with simple sugars that are easily absorbed, digested, and metabolized. The maxim is that carbohydrates are energy foods; so, why not carry out a simple low-carb experiment and see if I feel any lack of energy on today’s hike? Great idea! It may add some rationale, perhaps some challenge for this day of hiking. This experiment also fits with my classic left-brain, scientific nature.
I briefly consider joining one of the small groups of hikers, but they seem, well... so young.
As I leave the dining hall I pass through the Trading Post area of the Center where they sell a selection of hiking gear and literature. Adjacent to the shop is a large three-dimensional floor model of Mt. Washington and the surrounding area. It shows a host of details, but since I am only a day hiker, and have been on these trails for years—even decades—my interest focuses just on refreshing my memory regarding a few popular trails. Immediately behind the scale model is a wall display, some twenty-two feet long and twelve feet high, featuring the dangers of the Mt. Washington area. The dangers range from losing one’s way to traumatic falls from a cliff, from the inconvenience of poison ivy to the ravages of exposure, even death, due to severe weather. I think that if I stay on the marked and heavily traveled trails I will be fine.
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