Project Eveningland

5/13/2023 Saturday

Just as I left my campsite to rejoin the trail, a group of about five older guys came into view. Most appeared to be late 60s and at least one was in his 80s.

They were friendly and let me go ahead of them. Sometimes when someone walks right in front of you, you let them pace you without realizing it. Poppins’ dog Wiley has twice followed me when I passed him and his human.

The old guys basically did the same thing. The lead guy tried to follow me and the group followed him. They almost kept pace and when I stopped to read a sign, they all caught up. The lead guy was winded and drenched in sweat. He looked half dead. When the others saw the state of him, one of them said, “water break!” If the hot humid weather doesn’t kill the elderly, I fear I will.

It’s been a day for second guessing. I walked right past the side path to the camp store I’d hoped to visit this morning and didn’t realize it until I was half a mile down the trail. I decided not to turn back. I wanted to minimize my time hiking in the rain (a combined inch of rain was forecast for today and tonight).

I was making phenomenal time. I consoled myself about missing the camp store—at least I am flying down the trail! Why, I’m going to make it ten miles before 11AM! My watch was wrong. I think the knob to adjust the time got pulled out. Either that or I’ve come unstuck in time. In any case, my hopes for a miracle morning are dead. So it goes.

The trail today took me through wide green avenues. These are floral scented. In a few places, white petals fell from the trees in gentle intermittent morning rains. The trail cuts across stately pull-offs along Skyline Drive, each bordered by beautiful mortared stone walls. The pull-offs offer fantastic views of the round, rolling hills, now uniformly bushy and green. A young guy from Florida who’s stationed at Norfolk asked me to take his picture standing in front of the view.

Spider wort bloomed a deep purple along one of the hills.

When I reached Pinefield Shelter I decided to just stay there for the day. It’s good to stop early on a rainy day. I scouted a tent site on some fir needles just behind the shelter itself. It’s full of roots and rocks, but my sleeping pad is thick enough to handle it. There are built tent pads up the hill, but they’re muddy and don’t look well drained.

While I was in the shelter (waiting for a break in the rain to set up my tent) I overheard a conversation that got me thinking about the mileage/speed issue again. Two southbound hikers (going south from Harper’s Ferry, not all the way from Katahdin) were there waiting out the rain. One was smoking a cigarette. The other had a very unfriendly German shepherd. They were planning their next few days and getting ready to blitz through the rain today and then tomorrow do a “strong 20”—which I took to mean around 25 based on context clues–and stage themselves to get to Waynesboro the day after that. Or something. The smoker was gonna hike in his crocs today to try to keep his shoes dry for the long day tomorrow. It sounded fucking miserable to me.

The two men left. The rains came and went in gentle showers. Never quite heavy enough to legitimize such an early stop. I took a nap and wondered if I had perhaps been too conservative with my mileage. I thought it was going to pour! It’s OK—I’ll get extra rest, eat, and look forward to the dry weather ahead.

No cell service at the shelter or near it. It was rather like the old school AT! Zero bars! Course I still have all my apps. And my entire music library. And a bunch of downloaded videos. And enough battery bank to last 2-3 more days. And various other accoutrements which seem unsporting when compared to Grandma Gatewood’s setup.