Project Eveningland

6/11/2023 Sunday

When there’s heat coming—and there was—at least the morning temps are comfortable and not too cold. That’s the bright side. That’s all there is folks.

In the morning we talked with a hiker I met at the Pentecostal hostel who was planning to hike 18 miles to the nearest shelter. He wants to avoid the rain. I’d like to avoid the rain, but making Neil do 18 (or, honestly, making me do 18) would be cruel. It would be cruel even over gentle terrain, which this isn’t. We met some trail volunteers just as we were leaving the shelter.

The poison ivy faded away as we hiked, and we both agreed we have a newfound appreciation for ferns. I never felt particularly that I took them for granted, but that is exactly what I would say if I did.

We watched our water carefully. I read the comments for the water sources ahead (it’s a feature of the app) and most are bone dry. We are mostly dependent on springs or roadside creeks, these last being less ideal because of runoff.

The trail features around here are built with large, blocky stone. You could build and build and never run out.

We took lots of breaks today and moved slowly. It is amazing how much of a difference terrain and extreme temps make.

What else can you do? It’s important to take the time to cool off. I recommend resting your undercarriage on a big cool rock. That’ll take the heat right out.

By mid afternoon we were both flagging. We stopped by this strange spring that isn’t listed. There are comments in the app that tell you where to expect it. It’s new. The trail builders dug out a spring and now it flows strong across the trail. But it is bright orange! It reminded us both of mine water. It was Hi-C.

I talked Neil into some light siesta blazing. We took a 2.5 hour break around 3:30 to rest and eat and filter water. I let my stomach settle a bit. The heat and exertion do me no favors.

We started walking again at six with a goal of 3.5 more miles. We were on what seemed to be an old railroad grade and made better time. The weather cooled reluctantly.

The forecast has changed in the wrong direction—more rain. I know, I know, we need it. It has been very dry. I’ve gotten spoiled by the lack of rainy days.

I feel discouraged tonight. I’d go faster if I could. I would like to get home someday! But none of this should cast any aspersions on the wonderful company of my dear friend Neil.

This forest is not glamorous. There are no waterfalls or named mountains. But it’s beautiful and peaceful in our piney little campsite. We picked well-drained sites.

The sound of automatic gunfire serenaded us to sleep. My water filter has a mysterious crack in it. I left my phone charging cord at the hostel (I’ve been using Neil’s). Our motto lately has been, “it’s always something.”