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NH Appalachian Trail Traverse Recap

I decided last minute to go for this attempt, even though it was my third plan change in just two weeks. My nursing schedule isn’t the most flexible, and despite the forecast calling for rain during half the route, I just had to send it. My taper was far from ideal, which had me worried. I initially tapered down to 53 miles and 15,000 feet of vert from June 9–15, thinking I was going for it the following week. But then I changed plans, told myself I’d wait until later in the summer, and ended up with a 94-mile, 32,000-vert week from June 16–22 after a friend came through on the AT and helped him slack-pack the Whites. Whoops.

But when I saw a last-minute weather window with at least one solid day, I had to take it. That meant scrambling to pull together a crew and pacers. Many people already had new plans, but I went for it anyway. I carried my own gear, navigated while exhausted, coordinated weather updates with my crew, kept devices charged, and hiked extra miles for water at huts—for over half of the entire effort.

The adventure began with eight hours of sleep. My friend JP picked me up in Woodsville from my house and dropped me off at Carlo Col via Success Pond Road at 8:34 AM on Thursday. The weather was perfect—lower humidity and sunny skies. I hiked 2.9 miles to the NH Appalachian Trail start in 58 minutes and 44 seconds. The Mahoosucs were mostly dry with minimal bugs or blowdowns.

 

I completed this section solo and met JP again at the Rattle River Parking Lot. Unfortunately, he’d accidentally given my resupply bag to someone else, so I was out of fuel. I let everyone know and kept moving through Moriah. Emylee contacted Harland at Carter Hut, and JP hiked into North Carter to meet me with maple syrup, which I chugged. Sarita met me on the South Carter ascent with more supplies. We refilled at Carter Hut and thanked Harland. George and Gemma surprised me at Wildcat A, and Alaina joined at Wildcat D. Thanks to friends clearing blowdowns beforehand, the Rattle River to Carters section was smooth and relatively dry. Despite running on fumes through Moriah and Carter, I got a second wind descending Wildcat—though descending Wildcat Ridge in the dark is definitely not my forte.

 

At Pinkham Parking Lot, I reached Mile 36 aid after descending Wildcat Ridge. I stuck with the original route—no skipping the Cats. From here, Steve and Alaina became my consistent RV aid crew. We shared some laughs while I inhaled pizza, and it was hard to leave because it looked like so much fun. At midnight, I headed out solo via Old Jackson Road to the Peabody River Crossing, still carrying all my supplies. Madison Gulf in the dark was the hardest to navigate—no white blazes, lots of blowdowns, narrow trail. My stomach started to go sideways—something that never happened in previous efforts. I wasted time double-checking navigation on my phone and struggled with the river crossing. It took a while, but I eventually found a dry spot.

The ascent up Osgood to Madison featured excellent white blazes visible even at night. It was a clear, chilly night, ideal conditions despite my queasiness and fatigue. Just before Madison Cabin, I saw a headlamp: it was Jack Buffington! He surprised me at 3 AM and led me toward Edmonds Col, then had to return to Gray Knob for his caretaker duties. Just having someone carry my gear for a few miles made such a difference. We witnessed an incredible sunrise together. I tried a quick dirt nap near Jefferson but it was too cold.

Near Mount Washington, I contacted Jimmy and Emylee about sleeping. Jimmy met me a mile below the summit and carried my pack up—his energy was contagious and really made me feel like I could make it to the end. Emylee let me rest on the summit and even brought me pancakes, but I couldn’t fall asleep despite needing it.

 

The great weather held through the southern presidentials. The rocks were bone dry, bugs were minimal, and I felt physically strong, though mentally drained. I crossed paths with John Kelly and his crew too at one point. At Mizpah Hut, I laughed with the croo and stuffed my face with their free breakfast. Then came my nightmare: Webster Cliff.

Nicole Hamel surprised me just after the Webster Jackson Trail junction and carried my pack down the descent. Larson surprised me too & joined us, and we had a blast heading down to Crawford Notch.

 

I heard cowbells and knew we were at the 302 RV Aid. Changed clothes, devoured ramen. It was getting hot and humid. I headed out with George through Ethan Pond to Zealand Hut—classic muddy terrain. I attempted a nap at the hut but only managed 20 minutes of rest. Once again I couldn’t sleep. George had to drop due to leg pain, so I continued solo through the Pemi Wilderness, a zone I know like the back of my hand. I worried about the infamous bear and braced myself for strong winds.

Approaching the Skook, I spotted lightning. I checked with Emylee for a final weather call. Winds were brutal—I got knocked over repeatedly until Little Haystack. The descent into the trees brought relief, but also exhaustion. This was the longest stretch without aid, and my next crew spot had to be wheeled in from the Basin lot. I passed out immediately at Liberty Springs—totally wrecked. Alaina and Steve had everything: dry clothes, a camping chair, pillows, a wearable blanket. I slept 1.5 hours and begged for 10 more minutes. So many moths that night!

 

I woke up feeling like a rockstar. Downed a Red Bull and set off solo for Lonesome Lake Hut. Then came a full hour of pouring rain. Wet, cold, and now navigating slick rocks and wooden planks up Fish and Jimmy. The Kinsmans’ back side was treacherous—some of the toughest downhill terrain when wet. But I made it.

Finally, at Mile 100, I reached Beaver Brook and was shocked by three surprise pacers: Harrison, Jesse, and Riley! No more solo miles, no more carrying my own stuff. Mike and Katie showed up with their dog Jackson for extra cheer. I changed, refueled, and felt so strong again.

We pushed up Moosilauke via Beaver Brook in classic foggy wind. The difference with pacers was huge—they carried my things and just knew what I needed. Josh joined the crew near Glencliff, adding more joy. We were cruising, even with some water crossings.

 

Starting the Dartmouth 50, I ate a Vermont meat stick that didn’t sit well. At Mile 109 on 25A, I got some ramen and Red Bull before heading up Cube. The hallucinations started getting real—especially after the sketchy Cube descent. The rocks on Cube and Smarts were so slick. A microburst flooded the trail. Emylee and Chase surprised me here—amazing vibes, even in nasty weather. When we finally arrived at the RV after that nasty descent; we laughed, added glitter to everything, and kept going. It was nice to change into dry clothing.

Mile 132 to 137 was muddy, including a weed field that soaked us. I changed my shoes & socks again right before Holts Ledge. This climb was steep but felt smooth since I knew the terrain well. I entered a mental zone. My feet hurt, my right knee was shot, but I hit the pain cave and asked my crew if I could put on my headphones and lock in with party house music.

Then it happened. I shut off the pain. Told myself the race had just started. I started flying. My crew couldn’t believe it—I was getting faster and faster. Up Mount Moose I went, completely locked in. We finished strong together. The weather was perfect, and the vibes were through the roof—until the red light and a cop at the finish nearly stole our thunder. We ran to the Vermont side of the bridge to lock in the final spot. My legs locked up instantly. I couldn’t believe it was over.

 

The Team That Made It All Happen

Crew: Alaina LaRochelle , Steve Kenney
Pacers: Harrison LeFlem , Jesse Earisman , Sarita Ojala , Larson Ojala, Emylee Menard , Jimmy Rips , Nicole Hamel , Chase Hall , Riley Plourde , Josh Shields , George Somerset , Gemma Ramsey 

 

I can’t thank my crew and pacers enough. I’ve never used pacers before, and I had no idea how much it could elevate the experience. I’ve never laughed so hard, eaten so much ramen, or felt so seen and supported during such a physically demanding effort. Also, a huge shout out to Larsen Ojala  who did this segment last year, best hype man, and genuinely wanted to see me finish, that’s community y’all. Speaks volumes.

Ready for the next one—this time, with a little more planning.

Let’s go.

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