(Daily Mi: 9.1) Screaming 2 mi x 3000 ft climb down the backside of Moosilauke this a.m. Big fat moisture loving boulders all the way down. Ended up on my ass more than once. Kind of hate my big ass hiking boots.

Found the best Trail Magic in history at the bottom of the hill: a big cooler filled with strawberries, gourmet chocolates and other awesomeness. Turns out to have been left by the parents of Lilibeth who I met in Duncannon PA and last saw way back at the 501 Shelter in south central PA. She was moving fast then, and their note indicates she is in Caratunk, ME -- about 240 miles ahead.

Very rough terrain past the base of Moosilauke. Took a bad spill off the trail and really screwed up my left leg. I continued to hike at a good clip, but I have some pain. Met a southbounder named Bagel Chaser and an older southbounder named Poppa Husker. Happy fellow. Retired military pilot.

Make the shelter by about 3 pm. I had considered climbing Kinsman South (4358 ft) which lies more or less directly ahead, but it is Saturday and I am expecting my bounce box in N. Woodstock, NH in Franconia Notch on the far side of the Kinsmans and will be unable to get it until the PO opens on Monday.

I curse my poor planning -- should have just mailed the bounce box all the way to Gorham on the far end of the Whites and picked up some groceries in town. But I have been a little paranoid about this 150 mile stretch. It is a long way to resupply points from the already infrequent roadheads (14 miles in most cases) And I have not to this point been that absolutely dependent on my ability to hitch a ride from a kind stranger. We'll see.

Anyway. I crap out at 9 miles and spend the night under my tarp parked next to the usual suspects in the shelter. As I bed down, I hear the Apricot yelling at Beer Man and Sobo about their pot smoking again.