Anxious to get to Hanover and some civilization and all its fineries, and cross from New Hampshire into Vermont, I was out of the shelter and on the trail by 7:30 AM. It was a beautiful sunrise and I felt full of energy; a great way to start a day. Trail bike ruts marred the old logging road into the shelter and continued onto South Peak and down the AT. The one or two trail bikes that had recently torn through here, despite clear postings indicating the only legal use of the AT was as a foot trail, had done considerable damage, especially the erosion control diversions. No doubt testosterone filled adolescents being inconsiderate jerks - a common affliction for the male species. Otherwise, the trail was beautiful and invigorating as it descended the mountain. In less than 11 miles, I'd be in Hanover.

Autumn meadow and trail just before Hanover, NH.

I diverted to the old AT as it went along Hanover's water supply and some ponds. It was a beautiful area and loaded with fresh moose tracks. The AT goes right into Hanover, straight past the beautiful Dartmouth College campus and right across the Connecticut River into Vermont. I diverted mid town for some fine eating in the oft mentioned and much revered EBA (Everything But Anchovies) restaurant. There I had a splendid bowl of New England clam chowder, a grand and great burger smothered with sautéed onions and mushrooms and a giant orange juice. Outside, I got six kraut dogs from a street vendor (two I ate and four I saved for dinner and breakfast) before I called home. I mailed back the trail guide and map sections that I no longer needed, along with a small chunk of Cube Mountain. I reveled in the civilization - school was just starting and the streets and shops were bustling with college kids and their parents. Had I stayed another day I could have attended a book signing appearance by Bill Bryson, local resident and author of the infamous A Walk in the Woods. But I had to hike a full day to make up for what I lost in NH's Whites.

I continued out of town on Hanover's South Main Street, assured by several residents that I was headed toward Vermont. After walking about three miles and not crossing the Connecticut River, I knew something was wrong. A NH State Trooper happened by, I flagged him down, and we looked at the map and decided I was not in the right place. He very kindly gave me a ride back into town, over the bridge into Vermont. He was very nice fellow. I was headed to Vermont all right, but at a point 10 miles below the AT. Don't it figure - I get lost in town - not the wilderness. Guess I'm not cut out for civilization.

I hiked up the road to Norwich Vermont, a cute little town with a school and playground on the trail and its main street. It was such a quaint, picturesque scene right out of Courier and Ives with little children playing noisily in the crisp autumn air. I filled my water bottle and drank up at the fountain alongside the gazebo.

The trail turned off Main Street and headed up a side street that went steeply into the mountains. As I hiked steadily, I shared a pleasant conversation with a nice young lady, out for her daily walk. I hike up the hill past real nice homes into the forest of mixed hardwoods.

I got to Happy Hill Shelter, a real neat two-story stone and log shelter, quite new. I have it all to myself. The first order of business, as usual, is to get water. I go to the designated place, a stream behind the shelter and it is dry, save for a few damp spots. I head upstream until I find a pocket deep enough to provide wash, laundry and drinking water. I wash a few items of clothing, take my sponge bath and fill my water bottle by dipping small amounts of water from the pool. Mosquitoes are everywhere and for the first time on the trip I have to use bug repellant.

Happy Hill shelter near Norwich, VT.

I want a cup of tea with my kraut dogs so I build a small twig fire to burn trash and heat the water, as it gets dark. I laugh out loud as I read some of the register entries while having my delicious kraut dog supper. I have to copy these down and put them in my journal.

SEE APPENDIX D - QUOTEWORTHY SHELTER REGISTER ENTRIES.

I hang my food - the pack reeks of hot dogs and sauerkraut - brush my teeth and turn in for the night. I sleep in the open lower deck, watching the flickering flames of the fire die. Just about asleep at 9:30 I hear a coyote howl - real close. Then another, and another, and some pups yipping. They are so close I can hear their feet rustling through the leaves as they circle the shelter. Must be they want my hot dogs too - but they can't have them. I know they are too timid to approach humans - once they realize a human is here along with the hot dogs, they will keep their distance - and they did. But the howling kept up all night. In the distance I also hear a barred owl calling. It's so wonderful to be out here and a part of nature