Project Eveningland

2/16/2023 Thursday

Bill snores. There is always snoring at night in shelters. Sometimes even an empty shelter will snore if it’s been snored in long enough.

I put away a trekking pole so I could have a free hand to grab the umbrella. The rains didn’t really come. Stopped at Stover Creek for second breakfast (more seeds and some peanut butter pretzels). I sang away the miles, headphones in, god help those who hear.

Someone had carved two words into the picnic table at Stover, “No Fate,” which is what Sarah Connor carved into a picnic table midway through the second Terminator film. I should tsk tsk the graffiti but Sarah Connor… so badass and we thru-hikers need that. We need it.

Ran into Bill, who’d somehow passed me without my seeing while I was stopped at Stover. He told me about his work going into schools to teach kids about drugs and alcohol. I was expecting strategic, scare ‘em straight type rhetoric but his description of his presentation made it sound profoundly empathetic.

I moved ahead on hills. Four hikers got “stuck” talking to a volunteer who’s also a wilderness medic. He asked about my knee bc I’m wearing a chopat strap today. I said, “oh yeah it’s fine” and felt reassured by my own *effortless* (but also glamorous and elegant) confidence. He had good advice. Where were all these persuasive people two years ago when I needed someone to say “fucking go slow and let your body adjust easier, dummy.”

I had some soreness in my foot after the first few miles. I put on a support and took some Tylenol and had a really comfortable day with a responsible amount of mileage. Last night I wore the, uh… pain ring thingy? Leslie gave it to me before I left and it helps interrupt pain pathways that’ve become too well established. Extremely helpful.

I reached the turnoff for Hawk Mountain Shelter in time for a late lunch. Mitch was standing there dithering about whether to stop early or push ahead. He told me of his dilemma and I said, “don’t do it man.” He said I talked him into it. My karmic contribution, such as it is.

It’s a lovely crowd at the shelter. Ten Day, Bill, and Mitch (Captain Chaos) are here. Also Mac, whose trail name is apt. He says he owned a Mac truck, looks like a Mac truck, and I’d bet a finger that he snores like a Mac truck. Very outgoing and funny. Will, a friendly Georgian is here. Mo is an affable nerd type who gets all my cultural references and also cried at the third episode of The Last of Us.

My filter is working marginally better. Being wet seems to have helped.

More interesting graffiti in Hawk Shelter. Our last name is written large across a ladder. Someone else has written “Tom Marvolo Riddle” across the back wall.

I should say something about the woods today. Easy walking, wet leaves and shifting mists. More rhododendron groves, which will never, ever get old. I walked by a tiny waterfall sheeting over a rock concealed by thick green winter foliage.

It’s going to rain tonight and I’ve decided to tent for the added privacy and comfort. I’m the only one so far. Everyone else is in the shelter. It’s gonna be stinky and loud in there tonight