As I started hiking this morning, I wondered if I shouldn’t have written about being grumpy and feeling antisocial yesterday. However, I’ve been thinking more and more that part of the value of this exercise (writing about my journey for an audience) is me learning to be comfortable being seen as an imperfect human being. I don’t want to be seen as an imperfect human being (I much prefer a precise, polished presentation), but becoming more comfortable with being seen opens up an array of opportunities—for good writing and for human connection—that seem well worth the price.
I’m happy to report that after some time to recharge, today was a much more social experience filled with fascinating opportunities to learn about others and what they care about and why they’re here.
But first the weather. It was forecast to be a low of 28 last night, but who knows what temperature it actually was. Cold in any case! I broke out my sleeping bag liner again and it really did the trick. I was warm and toasty all night. Only woke up once or twice. Getting out of the tent into the cold is some task—for me anyway. The others at the shelter area, with a few exceptions, seem to hardly be able to restrain themselves! They wake at 5AM and disembark at 6AM. I got out at 7:30ish, which is much more humane.
A mile and a half or so in, I ran into Nate/Chef who I met the night before. He’s called Chef because he likes cooking. He’s not a chef nor, he says, an especially good cook. (It’s not a great trail name). Nate was right last night: it is a miracle that water flows straight out of the ground here, cold and clear. I was too cynical to see it.
Nate and I hiked together most of the day and I was grateful for the company and conversation. If I had to assign a food metaphor for the convo, I’d say hot cider on a cold day. Highlights included a new trail character: it’s the AT embodied in a big friendly stegosaurus who speaks in a deep slow voice and says things like, “Gosh, I dunno, are you sure you wanna hike over them sharp pointy ridges on my back? Well, OK, if you really want to…” Maybe you have to see it performed to appreciate it.
Nate told me he’d decided not to continue for a PhD in oceanography because he doesn’t want a PhD in oceanography. People say this kind of thing sheepishly, but what a useful realization to have! He loves to write and is using the hike to do a writing project not unlike my own. We talked writing strategies. He’s figuring out what he wants to do next with his life. He’s a bit of an “ultra” type, definitely a long-distance running kind of guy, so he was slowing down to hang with me. I can tolerate the condescension of someone slowing down when there’re interesting ideas to exchange, which there were.
Near the ridgeline trail Nate and I separated because I wanted to hike the “bad weather” route (which is, I think, actually the original route which was only recently supplanted by a newly built, horribly rugged, ridge trail). Since the new trail is not passable in bad weather (too exposed) they turned the old trail into the bad weather trail. I wanted to try the old route and prove to my ankles that I will blue blaze for them. That’s how much I love ‘em. So Frodo (who was in the area) and Nate took the ridge trail. I went down the easier, older path. I thought I would arrive at the rejoining point at least 20 mins sooner than them given the ruggedness of their chosen route. My blue blaze detour only put me five fucking minutes ahead of them. I mean come on.
I took at selfie at the 300 mile point, just after the trails rejoined.
Callie, the tiny Lassie (miniature collie), and her humans were at the shelter area. I really like Callie. She is doing her best to keep her humans in a herd. She fell asleep leaning against my things while I was eating dinner and then she started snoring. It’s too precious—I can’t handle it!
The weather today warmed gradually. There were signs directing us to a cabin for cookies. I rather worried I was headed for a Hansel and Gretel type scenario, except why would you eat thru-hikers? Tough meat, very gamey.
I’m sleeping at Jerrys Cabin shelter area tonight. I’ve decided to just hike ten miles tomorrow and hop off to a hostel to escape some of the rain and dry off. Tomorrow’s rain will be followed by more cold, and I’d prefer to interrupt the rain-then-frigid-cold cycle.
Project Eveningland 
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