Project Eveningland

3/6/2023 Monday

Several people at the shelter area last night decided to pre-dig their cat holes after they saw me do it. I found an old shovel head in the shelter (the handle being long gone) and used that.

Today was a harder hike, though it didn’t start out that way. The first miles were relatively gentle, open ridge walks. Things got progressively more rugged in the last six miles before Derrick Knob shelter area. It was rocky, steep, up-and-down walking, reaching peak masochism with one of those classic AT near-vertical ascents. Those grades are too steep for a donkey! But not, sigh, this ass.

It was a quiet day. Little or no cell signal. Nobody with a hiking pace close enough to mine for chatting (“wait for me! I have ideas I want to discuss!”). I think I am dead center average among this group, but I see almost no one all day.

My favorite part of the scenery today were the long walks between thick, high walls of rhododendron which crowd the path from either side and leave the trail pleasantly dappled with sunlight. There are scenic little pull offs here and there (tho rarely when you really want one) where it’s nice to sit and enjoy the breeze and sunshine. Huge clusters of gnarled tree roots hold together dirt outcroppings which offer gorgeous views. I try to stop as often as I can, so as to rest and eat shitty food. I caught up on two of my favorite legal podcasts: Sisters-in-Law and Legal AF.

I think the knob or ridge or whatever on which this shelter (Derrick Knob) is built is in some kind of “wind zone.” Either that or I just happened to catch it on two different windy days. It has this super neat spring directly beneath it (down the mountain several hundred feet via either a steep direct descent, or a nice gentle trail that’s longer and more indirect—your choice). The water flows out of an old pipe that seems to jut naturally from a moss covered heap of rocks which appear not have been disturbed in many years. Perhaps decades.

I had to hike dry for about 90 minutes today. The miles were more rugged than I expected and there just aren’t many water sources up here. By the time I arrived at the shelter I was very thirsty indeed. Wedge asked me if I was ok—I must look tired and sore. I am tired and sore.

I worry sometimes that I am making this sound easier than it is, because I do leave quite a lot from my journal out of the blog. Look, there’s no denying that I hike the trail with style and elan. People are saying that my casual elegance puts them in mind of “Robin Wright as Claire Underwood,” or “a young Kate Mulgrew,” or perhaps “a slightly less swish Jeff Goldblum.” Seriously, though, it is rough, this AT stuff. And not just physically. Trip once said it was an “emotional roller coaster” and I quite agree. Ups and downs in every sense. Sometimes, like today, I get into camp exhausted and then feel like the work is only half done because there’s so much to get done at camp. (Often including another hike for water).

Still, eight hours of walking leaves plenty of time for random bullshit to float to the top of my brain. For example, I spent some time thinking about my own little system for naming backpacking base weight ranges (base weight is your pack weight not including water, food, fuel, or other consumables). Here are the ranges:

Over 30lbs: Military personnel, my friend Neil, and the kind of people who carry skillets and/or very large handguns “for protection.”

25-30lbs: Assault-style backpacking

20-25lbs: Standard

15-20lbs: Lightweight

10-15lbs: Ultralight

5-10lbs: YouTube light

0-5lbs: Nonsense light