Therese Marie

Dear New Hampshire,

Nice try.

I know you wanted to kill me. It wasn’t terribly obvious at first, which was very clever of you. That 2 miles of road walking into your borders was just too easy. So was Hanover, being on trail and everything. You reunited me with friends, gave me a smooth time.

I even hiked 17 miles after 12pm, which was a huge accomplishment! You made me feel good at first. Really good.

Too good.

Soon Moosilauke was on the horizon and we were all getting nervous.

It was the first 4000+ foot climb we’d have in a long long time. We were scared. We played it safe.

But Man, you even made THAT easy for us! We found that Moosilauke was a breeze! 4 miles of cake uphill, and fun but treacherous downhill. We were feeling on top of the world, like champions, like we could totally handle this.

And then you came in strong with wet weather and the Kinsmans.

Suddenly, with a combination of roots, rocks, and steep ass climbs, you relentlessly tried to break me.

But I wouldn’t have any of it. 

Sure, I slipped. I fell. I night hiked by myself  (which was scary as balls) and crawled into a warm mountain hut, begging for salvation and a piece of floor to sleep on. I got hurt. I got sad.

But I was surrounded by people who helped me get back up. I was, after all, in one of the most beautiful mountain ranges: The Whites.

I’ll admit it: I was indimidated. The constant up and down 4000 footers, the rocks, all the terrains above treeline. It seemed scary.

You gave me shitty weather in the beginning, too. I was beginning to wonder what I was doing out here. You shorted me of views, as if to say, “Go home, Wayne.”

Did I listen?

Fuck no. No no no. Why? Because I knew there was beauty in your nooks and crannies. I knew I had to be patient and trek on.

So I did! Because, New Hampshire, I am going to see some BEAUTY and EPIC VIEWS. That is what I came here for. I did NOT come to get beaten down by your steep, impossible-to-navigate bullshit.

And it paid off. Not only did I survive, I THRIVED. Sure, we couldn’t do much more than 14 miles a day, and yeah, Mount Madison SUCKED. It was a straight vertical climb on rocks. Yes, we lost the trail often. But I felt so alive.

I was becoming a mountain woman.

And so despite the pain, we finished with fervor. You gave us one last “fuck you” right before the border with steep rock faces and deep deep deep mud. You even took down Rocket, and he never falls.

But we got through. Because we’re going to Kathadin no matter what lies in between.

So, New Hampshire? In all your beautiful, epic, rooty, muddy glory, I have one last thing to say to you:

Nice try. I’m in Maine now. 

Screw off,

Lil Wayne.