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8/2/01, day 141. 10.1m. Covernor Clement Shelter. ~4pm - It's a freakin' hot day, so I think I'll chill in this shelter for a spell and night hike to where I want to be, as it is supposed to be a clear night with a full moon. Woke up and chilled with Smittee, Grace, and Norway until quite late. Those guys are very much fueling my current low-mile mood, and I couldn't be happier. Hiked 3m to Clarendon Gorge, and just had to take a dunk. My low-mile pals and I are just loving life to its fullest, and natural jacuzzis and sunny rocks did little to hurt that mood. Of course, sunning yourself on a 90 degree day before climbing a 4,000-footer is a bad idea, hydration-wise, so I stumbled into this shelter just covered in sweat and drank the adjacent creek almost dry. It's only been 4m so far, with 6 or 10 to go, but if there was ever a night to night hike, this would be it. Met a section hiker here and we discussed our different attitudes about the Trail: mine valid and his asinine and pointless. He was complaining about the hills, as we all do, but he was talking like he should get some sort of tangible reward for his hard work. The way he was talking I suppose he expects a cold beer and a $5 bill every 10 miles. I was telling him that for me it's not the view at the top (or lack thereof); it's the mountain itself. It's not the destination; it's the Trail. You can't conquer the AT any more than you can a person. Well, I suppose you can, but it's certainly more fun to have a friend then an enemy. To each their own, I suppose, but there remains the fact that th guy is bitchy and miserable, while I am not. To top it off, the guy actually likes Bryson's book "a walk in the woods," the mere mention of which sends most AT hikers into a furious rage. I very much hope the Trail isn't turning me into the condescending bastard that this entry makes me out to be. ~9pm - I'm here; I'm badass. 8/3/01, day 142. ~11m. Some cottage on some lake. Grace, Smittee, and I had an appointment this afternoon, so I went and booked it early in the morning to be certain to get there on time. On the top of Kilington, however, I found a note in the register stating that Jobnick had purchased beers for Noggin, Grace, Smittee, and I a few miles down the Trail at some pub. So I pranced down some blue-blaze (2.5m shorter than the white - silly purists) had a sandwich and a beer, talked to some SOBOS, and headed to the campground to wait. Grace's dad showed up, we chatted for a spell, then Grace Smittee, Noggin, and Prince William showed up. After Murph (an actual physician) diagnosed me with Lyme Disease, we got into a coupla cars (Nog had obtained one, somehow) and headed off to a cottage on a lake that Grace's family rents every year. We got ourselves clean (it's been a long time since I've had shower and laundry at the same time), had a big dinner, sat around and yapped, argued about the weight of my pants, played uno (I cheated; Grace punched me in the nose), and fell asleep watching "Spaceballs," which was a hell of a lot funnier when I was 16. Pretty damn good day. 8/4/01, day 143. 0m. Still at the lake cottage. This morning I had the opportunity to leave early with Noggin and Prince William, but I declined with the idea that I would catch a ride later in the day, although I should have known better. We had a great day relaxing and water skiing and hanging out with Grace's fam, which BTW kicks tremendous ass. Later in the day we realized that it was too late to get back to Manchester in time to get to EMS, so we figured it might as well be a zero. Grace and Smittee took me to a clinic to get diagnosed for Lyme Disease (I'm so proud of myself) and to get some antibiotics, then a huegeass dinner, and now an exhaustive collapse. As will all zeros, Im quite anxious to get back to the Trail, esp. since I'm only a few days from NH! I'm not sure, but I might be in the mood to start pulling decent days for awhile. Other things of note: Smittee made an ass of himself on a bike and Grace's mom was physically repulsed by my pack's unique scent. 8/5/01, day 144. 5.4m. Stony Brook Shelter woke up and went on a bizarre ultralight craze, cutting the pockets off of my pants, cutting a weird loop thing off my pack, etc. Nobody really woke up until 11 or so, so the day's hiking was pretty much shot. Had ourselves some pancakes, lounged round, then headed to Rutland to the EMS, where I exchanged ass shoes for swell ones, then a ride back to the trailhead, where we bid Adieu to Grace. There are many trail friends I'm sure I won't see again, but at least with Grace I had the chance to say goodbye, etc. Then an ass climb to the shelter with Jeremiah Johnson. I'm quite exhausted and sore, which I'm hoping has more to do with water skiing and lack of sleep rather than my Lyme Disease, 'cuz it's gonna take awhile for these antibiotics to do their thang. I'm considering doing real mileage tomorrow... 8/6/01, day 145. 13.9m. Some Barn I knew it was going to be 95 degrees today, so I woe up at the asscrack of dawn and moved in order to bust out some miles before it got too hot. Bust them out I did, driking like an alcoholic fish, until I arrived at a 0.5m exposed faqrmwalk at about noon, which kicked my dehydrated ass. So when I saw a sign welcoming hikers to chill in the shade and imbibe iquids at some dude's farm, there I was with Smiles and Fiddlehead for everal hours chillin' in the shade. I fuggered on staying, and tried to hitch into town to get on the internet, as I wanted to send email to far ahead trail friends inviting them to stay at my Dad's house this weekend. Couldn't get a hitch, caught a ride with the owner of the place, discovered that it was a prick town with no internet, hitched back and chilled in the barn with some much-missed NPR. Close to dark the Dude and crew showed up in the middle of a 34m slack that they desperately wanted to end. Slept in the barn, which was cool. 8/7/01, day 146. ~6m. Cloudland Shelter ~11am - Still haven't moved today. The National Weather Service is recommending that people in the New England region avoid strenuous outdoor activity today, due to the heat. Besides, I'm really enjoying hanging out in this old barn. I keep poking my head out the window to see if any hikers are showing up, making me feel a little like Boo Radley. Just a few moments standing outside in the sun is hard enough - I couldn't imagine hiking. So I suppose I'll hang until about 3-4 and make it a short day to the next shelter. ~8pm - Hiking in this weather just plain sucks ass. I have zero energy. ~16m to Hanover, NH tomorrow. I hope to get 12-14m done by noon, but we'll see what happens. I'm alone in the shelter tonight, which has never happened before.' 8/8/01, day 147. ~7m. Talbard House in Hanover, NH Okay, so last night the shelter was full of mosquitoes and it kept threatening rain. So, was I going to leave a shelter to set up a tent in the rain, or deal with the assholes all night. It's not the biting that gets me; I'm more than happy to donate blood. It's the damn buzzing all night long in your ear. Anyway I crawled in my tent as a kind of bivy in the shelter and sweated the night away. Woke up at about 1-2, although I had no idea what time it was at the time, and I decided to start hiking in order to beat the heat. I'll start bitching in a spell, but I should say that the night hike was quite magical. Perfect temp, a little misty, near-full moon with clouds scattered across it, just plain peceful. I startled pretty much every large animal from the ark, which occasionally scared the piss outta me. It's pretty cool that at this point I can identify most animals by the sound they make running away from me: deer, snake, bear, human, etc. I can even tell the difference between a chipmunk and a squirrel. I suppose that makes me a mountain man. :-) Anyway, the bitching: my left eye started hurting pretty bad, so after a few hours I sat down in the Trail in the dark and took my left contact lens out. I walked along, the pain getting steadily worse. I took what was probably an hour nap on the Trail as the sun rose and started walking again, at which time I realized that I was plain having trouble keeping my eyes open. So I took out my right contact lens and kept walking, the pain steadily increasing, making it harder to keep my eyes open, making it harder to walk. I finally stumbled into West Hartford, VT, and asked t the general store where the closest hospital was at, and ths dude drove me to Lebanon, NH (making himself late for work), where the nice people thre asked me Trail questions and informed me that there was no damage to the eye and that today would suck but tomorrow it should be all good. So since I wasn't hikin' I hitched up to Hanover, skipping about 10m of Trail. In Hanover a coupla frat houses let hikers stay there for free, so I pulled up to Talbard and found 9,000 people avoiding the head there. Even though all day it felt like elves shoving long metal rods through my eye, I had a good time catching up with folk like Leslie. Tomorrow it's supposed to reach 100 degrees, so I'll be damned if I go anywhere on foot. 8/9/01, day 148. 0m. Talbard House So I woke up and my eye wasn't hurting as much but it had a weird white film over it so I couldn't see, which worried me enough to zero. I also zeroed because it's too freakin' hot and 'cuz cool people showed up. Talbard was a madhouse, about 20+ hikers, but it was fun socializing with the old and the new. These SOBOs are odd people. There seems to be a weird NOBO/SOBO dichotomy going on... 8/10/01, day 149. 9.9m. Dad's house in Lincoln, NH Woke up with my eye still fucked up so I waltzed about trying to find somebody with some sort of degree to tell me my eye was fucked up in medical terms, which I couldn't, so I hung for a spell with the gang. Norway brushed he teeth with DEET, so she wasn't doing so well. So I hiked south to make up the section I missed coming into Hanover, and hiking south sucks ass. The eye improved, and I arrived at West Hartford early so I jumped off a big bridge a few times, got picked up by my dad, and went to try to find Leslie, which proved hard. Got pulled over by a NH statie, but got out of a ticket with a little Trail talk. Then to dad's house to chill with the fam. Good stuff. 8/11/01, day 150. 17.6m. Dad's hosue Slacked today, picking up Norway halfway along and getting' picked up agin' with Leslie and hangin' with the fam with Lasagna and pie.
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