For those of you who do not know, Laz is a friend from school and my roommate for the next two semesters. He looked like an exhausted dog when we picked him up at the train station just outside of Boston. Did I mention that he flew into New York, red-eye flight? Yes, we originally intended on picking him up and no we didn't actually pick him up....in New York at least. The poor guy had to buy a train ticket last minute because of car problems and then ride with us all the way into northern New Hampshire without a break in between. Oh and I probably should mention the dead body (and by that I mean 90 pounds of non-rolling luggage) that he carried with him all over New York, California, and various other places (6 states in total). He jokes in retrospect that his luggage is better traveled than a good majority of Americans. SO, for our trip.
Austin, Laz and I hiked up Mt. Washington. We stayed overnight in a strangely familiar campsite and almost paid an arm and a leg (out of Laz's suitcase, of course) to take the three of us back down the mountain after we'd exhausted ourselves on the climb. Driven by our insatiable desire for an awaiting lobster dinner, we arrived at our friend Chelsea's house, but not before unnecessarily circumnavigating the range of White Mountains, getting lost and ending up in Massachusetts again, and nearly having a showdown with a senile moose. You would hardly know that we had just a few hours earlier stood triumphantly at the mountain's (peak, summit, climax, zenith, pinnacle, crest---we had a heated debate about which term was correct on the journey up) by the state of our sorry selves when we arrived at Chelsea's. We slept soundly.
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