I'd like to think it was because of the experience gained over the prior 2100+ miles, but it was probably just dumb luck.
Consistent with prior experiences, I blew out a trusty trail runner AND damaged a backup water shoe on a Kinsman traverse, just three miles after my return to the White Mountains. (For background purposes, I popped my hamstring on a rain saturated bog bridge in my first new AT mile on my last Whites outing.) I was also chased off of Mt. Lafayette with a thunder and hailstorm that rivaled the Misty Mountains storm in the recent Hobbit movie, lightning everywhere, pea and marble-sized hail accumulated a half inch deep on the bail-out trail. To add insult to injury, a second storm hit a couple hours later, turning the final mile of the Skookumchuck trail into two inches of mud.
Then...good weather prevailed...
Descending Mt. Washington SOBO went without incident, and 80 mile views were had upon Mt. Pierce.
I then climbed again to the top of Lafayette, a few scattered clouds causing a bit of trepidation, but I emerged unscathed, with only a bit of rain falling on the last mile of the Skookumchuck trail.
Last was the Moriah/Carter/Wildcat traverse, which I began on Monday. With storms predicted for Wednesday (yesterday), I felt that I needed to finish in two days. While I was within 1 linear mile of Pinkham Notch at around 7 PM on Tuesday, I still needed to descend 2,000 feet down a trail I can only describe as "horrifying." About three hours I emerged dripping wet from the night fording of Stoney Brook, and stumbled into the family van that was awaiting at the Wildcat Ridge trailhead. My shorts were ripped to shreds from butt sliding, my body battered from the numerous, semi-controlled falls that constitute "hiking" down that trail.
The next morning I hiked the final mile on the Lost Pond trail...or what turned out to be about a mile and a half. First, over Stoney Brook again, now rain swollen. Then the white blazes disappeared, and I only found nailed up blue diamonds on what appeared to be the trail. Rock scrambled back a couple hundred yards...there's a faded white blaze, hmmm... So I continued hiking on the "blue diamond" trail, and finally found a bog bridge and what appeared to be a partial white blaze. Soon afterward, I found my family waiting on the trail, more than ready to hike the last half mile with me. We hiked up to the final trail sign together, hand in hand. Twenty days shy of three years, we had finally summited our Katahdin.
"I'm pretty tired...think I'll go home now..."
Thanks to all on WB for all of your help! I'll give some proper shoutouts after a bit of rest.
--Joshuasdad