Date: 2004-08-26
From: Cabin at 

To: PUD'S
Miles today: 14.0

Last night, the outdoor temperatures were no longer unseasonably cold. I slept well in the loft inside the cabin.On the trail during the morning, my forehead often collected strands of spider webbing but the other parts of my face were untouched. Impulse was hiking up ahead and was clearing away the spider webs. But he is shorter in height than I am; that is why only my forehead was collecting webs. Later, a southbound hiker crossed paths and the spider webs were pretty much gone for a while.I stopped and chatted with another southbounder out for a day hike. He was a man in his sixties named Tail Wind. He offered to drive me round trip into Woodstock, VT to resupply. I accepted his offer. During the drive, he stopped by his home, picked some tomatoes from his garden, and gave me some of them. What a generous man.The hiking today was exhausting, with lots of "PUD's," or purposeless ups and downs without viewpoints. The temperatures were in the eighties and the humidity was uncomfortable. The trail passed through some pastures on hills. It got especially hot in those pastures without the shade of the forest.There was one stretch of trail where I forgot about the rigors of the day. The trail led me down an old woods road dominated by white pine trees. On either side of the trail were old stone walls with moss growing on them. Stands of rusty barbed wire were still in place above some of the stone walls. Aging oak trees, their expansive trunks a contrast to the thinner pine trees, lined the sides of this road. A gentle breeze cooled my face.I imagined myself walking down this road at the turn of the century. Cows would be grazing in pastures on either side of the stone walls. A farmer with a team of horses and a flat bed would be traveling on the road. Today, Mother Nature is reclaiming this place.Further up the trail, I came across a work glove that someone had placed on a narrow stump. The glove was almost at eye level. The middle finger of the glove was upraised. I laughed and prepared to take a photo of it. The front of the glove was dark, so I took a small reflector from my backpack and bounced some sunlight toward it; this improved the shadow detail. While performing this task, I realized how weird the situation was, me standing in the woods trying to reflect some light into a glove that was making an obscene gesture at me.I stopped hiking at the Thistle Hill Shelter, VT. The place was occupied by a middle aged, southbound thru hiker named Just Jim. After setting up my hammock, I hung out with him at the shelter. He told me that he has finished a twenty year stint in the Marine Corps and is between careers.This area is infested with mosquitoes. In spite of this problem, I gave myself a sponge bath at a place were a small stream flows like a waterfall down a rocky wall. The mosquitoes bit me several times during my bath. But I smelled ripe from today's difficult hike and the bath was something I needed to do before entering the hammock.I am lying in this hammock as the mosquitoes besiege me from the other side of the bug netting. It is still early with light in the sky. My early bedtime is less about escaping the mosquitoes and more about exhaustion.