Date: 2005-03-31
From: Wesser Bald Shelter

To: NOC
Miles today: 5.6
Weather: moderate rain

3.31.05Day 18Addendum to this entry: My apologies, that today's entry is primarily about my head pains (and thus even more boring than usual). Hopefully I'll be back to my ol' (wordy) self tomorrow. Also, thanks to all of you who've written and/or signed my guestbook. It's always encouranging and heartening to hear from the people who take the time to slog through my epic entries. (Also, as an aside to this addendum (b/c, well, I'm rather fond of the parenthetical asides, if that wasn't already obvious...), you'll notice that I've put the 'addendum' at the beginning of this entry, b/c, well, I'm not sure how many of you actually make it to the end of my entries. (They do have a tendency to be somehwat lengthy.) But now, w/o further ado... 5pm Interesting day today, in a completely random, unplanned, disorganized sort of way. The kind of day that, if you attempted to orchestrate it, you never could. Things just fell into place, of their own accord, the way things seem to have a tendency of doing, out here. My lack of sleep over the past several nights finally caught up to me this morning, and I awoke (or rather, I didn't awake, b/c I didn't sleep) to a migraine. Oh, joy of joys. I also awoke to the sound of rain drumming against my tent. So, not only did I get to break camp while battling a headache and stomach-churning nausea, I got to do it in the rain. My lucky day. I had expected to simply pass out last night, I was so tired. But, I had a night-time visitor. Some little rodent (or some really big bug) kept trying to burrow under the floor of my tent. Right after I turned my headlamp off, I heard -- Rustle, rustle. At first, I thought it was only the wind. But then, there it was !again -- Rustle, rustle. I switched my light on, peered outside, didn't see anything. Turned off the light. Rustle, rustle. Turned on the light. Silence. I wait. 30 seconds later, the floor of my tent starts slowly undulating. That freaked me out, but I refrained from emitting a girlish shriek. (I did, however, jump a few inches off of my thermarest.) I took one of my oh-so-clean-and-freshly scented socks, and batted at the shifting floor. Some rapid scrambling ensued, and then silence returned. Once my heartrate resumed its normal beat (which took a scant 5 minutes, during which I reacted to every sligt sound), I turnd the light off again. Ten minutes later, there's a scuffling sound against my tent again. Out comes the sock, who's scent alone is a deadly weapon. I unzipped my tent and (bravely) poked my head out, but saw only a crystal clear night sky of startling bright stars. "Well, at least it'll be a serene night," I oh-so-foolishly thought. My!little night-time friend persistently visited every hour or so, interrupting what miniscule amount of sleep I did snatch. Until, that is, the rain kicked in. It started around 1am, the lightest of pitter-patters, that initially I didn't even think it was rain. It was a gentle, quiet, soothing rain, and stopped before 4am. Which was perfect, I thought -- the weather system had passed, and I wouldn't have to pack up under dripping skies. Well, scratch that. 5am, and lightning illuminates the ceiling of my tent. Just peachy. And I could sense the migraine, amassing for its frontal assault. Gonna be a grrreat day. I laid in my sleeping bag, feeling sorry for myself, listening to the rain beat a constant tune on my tent, until Cuppa Joe deposited my food bag at my door (vestibule). What a guy. His heroic bravery in facing the elements roused me into action. After all, I wasn't going to feel better, just laying there, and the rain didn't seem to show any indication of stopping. So, I packed up camp, and was on the trail by 6:45!. I tentatively sipped a little water, but the rebellious protests from my stomach precluded any more than that. I slowly made my way down the water-logged, slippery trail, and stumbled into NOC shortly after 9. I have to admit, the first discouraging thoughts of hating the trail filtered through my mind this morning. And vanished even faster. I was wet, and sick, and miserable, and my head pounded w/ every step I took (and 6 miles is a lot of steps). But, by the time I got to NOC, my stomach had settled enough for me to sip some Coke, and the carbonation (or perhaps the caffeine) helped even more. I still felt generally crummy, though. And then I saw Mothergoose, and she said she had a ride arranged up to Fontana, where she'd be meeting her family tomorow. At that point, all I was capable of thinking of was a hot, steamy shower and a dark room to curl up in. I had planned on trying to hitch into Bryson City, but hey, Fontana didn't sound so bad. And so, here I a!m, back in Fontana Village, showered, and headache free, thanks to themiracle drug Imitrex (which, under normal circumstances, I'm reluctant to use, but desperate straits...). Tomorrow, the plan is to hike south (my first act of purist rebellion!), and hopefully camp w/ Cuppa Joe and Break, as they walk north. When I get back into NOC, I'll worry about hitching my way back to Fontana. But, jumping ahead as I did, I got to catch up w/ some old friends, and meet some new ones. Red Hat and Raz (formerly, Raz the Elder, who is now The Raz, since Raz the Younger is now Bruce Moose, hiking companion of Bruce Spruce) are here. And I had dinner w/ Montreal and Kutsa, who are a terrific couple. Plus, there's the breakfast buffet tomorrow morning... Dreams of pancakes and hashbrowns, dancing through my head. Here's to a good night's sleep...