Sodden

Holy moley did my hike not start out well. After foregoing one mountain for another (after reading online a warning about how much harder the former mountain was to climb in snow and ice) I first got lost trying to find the trailhead. I ended up back at the parking lot after circling for some time, and asked an older man with NH license plates where it was.

He wasn't that helpful and clearly thought I was a loon.

That opinion was further solidified when, upon attempting to cross Drake's Brook, which, BTW, is only a brook if you consider Mount Monadnock Kilimanjaro, I slipped on an icy rock and ended up in the "brook" nearly up to the middle of my shins. Which wouldn't be so bad considering that my boots are waterproofed. Unfortunately they only go to just above my ankles. The older man, seeing my folly, crossed safely, while I, trying to get away from him to nurse my embarrassment in private, sloshed as fast as I could up the trail. My feet were soaked.

But all was not lost! For I had one thing in my favor: A positive attitude. No, I had two things in my favor, and they were a wee bit contradictory: I had a positive attitude and also sheer donkeyheaded stubborness and I knew that these two things combined would get me up the mountain.

The positive attitude part consisted of me saying over and over in my head these two things: 1)Wool is insulating even when it's wet (I was wearing wool socks), 2)Walking 9.4 miles in soggy socks is sort of like getting a pedicure in that my feet will then get soggy and soften up and so ta-da! ladylike tootsies. Also I thought a third thing that I think from time to time when I'm physically uncomfortable, and that thing is: Imagine what it's like having a baby. This is nothing compared to that.

The sheer donkeyheaded stubborness part was mostly my bruised, bruised ego driving me ever forward.

At about mile 3.2 it all turned around, and I've got to say it's mostly due to sheer physical exertion, fresh air, and solitude. All the angry juice got sweated out. I felt fantastic. I made it to the top and took a spur trail to a separate view; it was gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous and peaceful and quiet.

Unfortunately on the way down I realized there was no way I was going to get back across the brook without getting my now-dry feet soaking wet again so I just sucked it up, stepped in, and then defrosted my frozen-solid boots and pantlegs when I got back to the car, squeezed out my socks, and headed back to my parents'.

And now I'm clean and dry. Yippee!