So at 4:02 pm, I was off, covered in goose bumps and with a stomach full of butterflies.

Way, way psyched!

Expecting arctic chills at the ridgeline, I was pleasantly suprised to find almost dead calm atop Flume, where I met a few thru hikers. One of them mentioned that it was a nice day for a run, and actually meant it, which is an attitude I don't encounter that often when meeting backpackers.

Passing over North Lincoln, I couldn't help but to recall Cath being blown around at this spot on the W48x9, so I gave her a call - which of course, was cut off before I got to razz her. She had generously offered to be my personal "first responder" in case I was attacked by Evil Roots, despite a healing ACL that had only experienced a few hikes up mild-mannered Tecumseh and Moosilauke.

Now THAT'S a friend!

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