Moriah from N. of Cascade Mtn.
Made it back up the ridgeline by late afterrnoon. Will camp out up ahead, maybe to Trident Col. I can see Mt. Moriah and the eastern Whites behind me. Mixed clouds, is weather on the way? Hard to gauge up here -- not like the southern Appalachians.
Evening - dusk has fallen. Below to the west of my camp come the sounds of heavy industry. I saw the operation from upon Cascade Mt. Must be a lumber mill. Civilization and a shot of seagrams will lead me to sleep. A mechanical lullaby, like the quiet distant drone of a kitchen frig. Good comparison. Much different night from my last tent experience. The temps are hovering around 60F, no rain and a very light breeze moves through the broad leaves. I am heavy with food and gear. The pack is up to 55. Only extra gear from the P.O. were my rain pants. So all the rest is food. Scary. I only ate about 1/2 pound for dinner so tomorrow's run for the final border will be laborious - a tedious trudge toward the fourteenth and final state. Here I lay at Trident Col campsite and Maine beckons but ten miles away.
If fate is to play, tomorrow's weather will be outstanding. Todays was threatening without a punch. In fact, it warmed as the day progressed. Had a very leisurely breakfast with Tupelo and Squirrel - met some new faces (the Wisconsin Brothers), saw Memphis walk in with his pack. Of all of the group there, we two were the only to walk all of the Whites as purists.
The seagrams has gone to my head at that point where one is comfortably on the edge of sleep. Squirrel hid small rubber bouncy balls in my pack. I find them everywhere... revenge will come, lassie. Later.
M=6.9; C=1863.9