New Hampshire: The Sellout State

New Hampshire is distinctly different from Maine. The first town I went to, though admittedly larger than any of my Maine towns, was still rather small. Nevertheless, it managed to still have a Walmart and McDonald's. The Maine towns usually just had "The (Town Name) General Store" and I would eat at, simply, "The Diner". Walmarts creep up right on New Hampshire's borders, like casinos on the edge of California, as if to tempt it's more naturally organic neighboring states, Maine and Vermont. New Hampshire had more mountains carved into ski lifts, more road crossings with annoying "Appalacian Trail Parking Lot"'s I had to walk through. The worst was Mt Washington, the highest peak in the Northeast (and second highest on the whole A.T.), which had a cog and road that leads to the top of it. This means there was a gift shop with magnets, pens, snow globes, and "this body hiked Mt Washington" t-shirts. Not only does that mean you get some weekend warriors, but fat people in flipflops and trophy wives in stilettos. It was actually the worst culture shock I've experienced so far. The Whites also have what are called huts, rather expensive cabins in the woods with bunk rooms, well water, and delicious meals for its guests. They're very popular with families and the aforementioned weekend warriors. A night in a hut normally costs $80-$120/night, and for a family of four for a weekend, they can become very expensive. But they have established a wonderful agreement with thru-hikers, plus I'm here early in the hiker season, which helps. Thru-hikers can work-for-stay, where we do 1-2 hours' work sweeping the floor and doing dishes, and then we can sleep on the floor and eat whatever food is leftover at the end of the paying guests' dinner. Some fellow thru-hikers said they felt like slaves, obeying the caretakers' demands to clean the floor, getting out of people's way, and literally eating the leftover scraps. But I loved it. I'd move hut to hut and worked my way through several all-you-can-eat meals and paid nothing for them. Sometimes my work-for-stay would include me telling stories to the guests about my thru-hiking experience, or playing my own wake-up song on the guitar to rally guests awake and let them know when breakfast was. I actually ran the last one while the caretaker stepped out for a few hours because I was so proficient at running them (I stayed at like half a dozen of them).

I also realized, to my horror and with an absolute inability to do anything about it, that I went through this popular National Park over 4th of July weekend, and it was packed. But again that was to my advantage, as so many people offered me food and supplies "since I'm going back to civilization tomorrow."

But so I undeniably gave in to sellout New Hampshire culture, giving up freedom for a little security, which is ironic given that New Hampshire's State Motto is "Live Free or Die." I was undeniably more comfortable in the huts, despite the lack of flushing toliets or places to plug in and charge my camera and phone.

But boy there are so many people in this popular National Forest over July 4th weekend. I was amazed at how many people I saw with not just one, but TWO X-chromosomes. I did not see a single straight single female within a decade of my age for the entire time I was in Maine (what about the snakebite girl, you say? Prefers women over men. Ahh, now I understand why you have a male companion who is not your boyfriend). My first night in a hut a handful of us, boys and girls, went skinny dipping in the nearby lake late at night. So again I've had a more enjoyable time since I've been in New Hampshire, yet somehow feel more hollow.