Date: 2003-08-11
From: Kinsman Notch

To: Eliza Brook Shelter
Miles today: 7.5
Weather: light rain

We wake, pack and prepare to leave Art and Sue's lovely lakeside resort. We know it will be a tough day. I wander down to the dock at Crystal Lake for a final good-bye, and snap a few pictures of the mountains reflected in the water. We breakfast on the way to the Trail (no moose, alas!). Gotta toss down that coffee while I can. When we pull into Kinsman Notch, we see Finch and Judy (Ma Finch), and their friend Lydia. There are hugs all around, and we introduce our Trail Angel, Art. My buddy Art, who is thru-hiking next year, never met a stranger, and soon all are chatting enthusiastically. Lydia takes a group picture for us.Finch reminds us again about that good strawberry shortcake Trail magic we'd missed a few days back. Judy intervened, promising us double portions if we all hooked up in Maine, the Finch home state. We told her we would be there.Finally, we hikers tore ourselves free from our automated umbilicals and walked off, leaving gregarious Art (Trail name: "Gabby") talking and gesticulating with Trail Angel Judy. I wonder how long they lingered there yakking.Speaking of yakking, the uphill miles passed quickly as Chief and I yakked about house building and remodeling. I've noticed a shift over the last month: I am getting house lust. I'm ready to buy land and build a house, plant a garden, something I've wanted to do for quite awhile. I guess I'm ready for roots.The latest plan in mind is to build the 2-bay garage first, with an apartment above, and live in that, on site, while planning and building the house. Stuff that is now in storage can be stored below. When the house is built, I can rent out the apartment. The building project is a little overwhelming, all new to me, but I figure - hey! I've researched, prepped and walked almost 1800 miles through slick mud and spirit-killing rain, I'll figure it out. Whatever. The project occupies my thoughts and the uphill Trail flies by. What is surprising is the trappy ground on the downhills. That two inches of rain yesterday did not drain off the mountain, it pooled right in the middle of the Trail. What would have been easy walking in dry weather was torturous in the mud. Hiking became a rock hop.Mossy, slick rocks were our ports in the storm, such as they were. We would pause, mid-rock, searching for the next stone island or sliding root or slanted trail side to move to. We make thousands of these split-second momentum decisions a day.When we came to a large, whale-backed rock with a view, we stopped and ate our lunch, then sprawled out to stretch our weary backs and knees. We have little sense of urgency today. The sun even peeps out once in awhile.We gather water at a creek, and I slip and fall on my right butt cheek. Or maybe Chief pushed me, it all happened so fast.We're glad to see the shelter. We walked 7.5 miles in almost 7 hours. Paul, a hiker we'd met earlier, was there already. A cardiologist back hiking after a hiatus, he was feeling beaten up by the Trail. We assured him we felt the same. He showed me a method of taping my arch to relieve my plantar fascitis. He said the foot doctor of the Boston Celtics showed him.A self-confessed workaholic, he's out on a five-day "walkabout," he says. He adds his brother did the AT when he was 17. Runs in the family, I guess.Later, Swag, a NOBO, pulls in before dark. He's been fighting a stomach virus. He's been making big miles. We all chat about things hiker, and I enjoy the company. Chief wants me to add some nice things about him. Okay. Chief is nice. Even if he did push me in the creek this afternoon.