Project Eveningland

5/15/2023 Monday

I’m writing this from the classic dining room of Big Meadows Lodge. It’s like a drug trip where the theme is early-20th-century-Americana-lodgecore-National-Park kitsch. People theme drug trips, yeah? Is that not a common practice?

Anyway I’ve ordered a dish so heavy that I’m unlikely to remain conscious for long after eating it. I’m gonna follow it with a $14 ice cream pie dessert. Will stumble back to the campground, brush my teeth, and fall asleep within ten minutes. So I’m writing this now.

Yesterday was rough. I did not want to do 20, was not thrilled about doing 20. I just couldn’t find a campsite. It’s not a problem to do 20 or even 30 on a given day; it’s a question of what you’ll be able to do the next day. I knew the next day (today) would have to be a shorter day. I was sore as shit last night and this morning.

But Lewis Mountain Campground saved me. It saved me in every way a person can be saved. I slept in—or, rather, woke and went back to bed—until nine. Then I broke camp and walked up to the camp store. They had a laundry machine. It was open and cheap! The shower cost five dollars and was actually coin operated. I had to put in 20 quarters! But five minutes was more than enough time (Benny would have needed 80 quarters). The resupply shop had almost everything on my list. Even some more ultra-DEET.

While my clothes were in the machine I ate two breakfast sandwiches and two things of yogurt. Then I ate lunch. Basically I just ate for two hours. Then laundry was done. I was clean. My clothes were clean. My food bag was refilled. I wish every resupply was like this one. And the front porch was cool and offered me the chance to sit, sort through stuff, and just observe life. The shop manager teases the delivery drivers and others by yelling at them for parking in front of the store. It takes nearly everyone a second to realize he is joking. I don’t care for it. I appreciated how clean and nice everything was.

I was back on trail at noon. The hills are gentle, the tall grasses now dry. Tiny yellow and black birds flitter about. Cool cloudy weather opened into blue skies. It was breezy and pleasant.

I wanted to catch up on legal news, but it took hours to download one podcast with such weak service. Finished Babylon’s Ashes; now onto Persepolis Rising.

The greenery is impossible. It is hard to for me to remember that these woods look more or less the same as the woods I started in back in Georgia. It’s just a different season here. Sometimes I see pictures of the trail down in Georgia at this time of year and I can’t believe it. Starting the AT in February twice has tricked my brain into thinking that that’s just how it looks down there: empty and brown (but stunning nonetheless).

The trail today ascended some low but rocky peaks, offering dramatic views of the inhabited valleys below. Foliage up at 3500 is still a spring green.

I am so sore and tired. I waited in line for a campsite. Ranger helped me book one. Gave me a close one. There was a long line and I watched him help a few people. I’m not sure about him. He calls a lot of attention to how carefully he manages the line. But at the same time if we could just reduce the chatter slightly—not even cutting the spiel, just cutting the chatter—I think we could have reduced everyone’s wait by around 26%. I set up and walked up to the lodge for dinner.

Eating well today (or at any rate eating a lot) clarifies things for me. I’d been feeling very run down and discouraged. Feeling better now. Oh but you should have seen the pre-packaged ham sandwich I put in my body. It came out of a sealed bag!

The campground at Big Meadows, where I’m staying tonight, is covered in yellow blooms. The peak tourist season isn’t here but it’s knocking, which means things are open and unlocked and spigots are on.

I had a “country carbonara” at the lodge and I could have eaten two plates of it. The country ham in it was so salty! Divine.