Pierce, Eisenhower, and Monroe all faded behind me as I concentrated on getting past the psychological fulcrum of the range, Mount Washington. A small amount of water from Lake of the Clouds, and I did my best to hustle up Washie, although my legs were definitely starting to complain a bit. I dashed inside and headed straight for the coffee machine.

4 cups (3 to go) and 3 sugar-encrusted doughnuts later, I launched (more like lurched, in reality) down the Trinity Heights Connector and started the magnificent section of the Gulfside that curls around the top of the headwall. And there they were, the Trio of Northern Peaks: Jefferson, Adams, and Madison, obscured only by a thick black haze of locomotive spew.

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