Date: 2009-04-08
From: Groundhog Creek Shelter

To: Walnut Mountain Shelter
Miles today: 13.1
Weather: broken clouds

It snowed overnight, adding several more inches to the accumulation of the previous 24 hours. In addition, the winds had created sizable snowdrifts along my route--two to three feet in the gaps, and deeper over exposed sections of the trail.So today I learned a new winter sport. It's called "post-holing". It's named for the fact that whoever hikes out first creates a set of tracks in the snow; when the snow's only a few inches deep, those tracks aren't so important, but the deeper the snow, the more the "tracks" look like empty post-holes - hence the name. ("Today I did something I have done a million times before but decided to give it a cutesy name. Guess what guys walking in deep snow is a pain in the butt.")I also learned that I don't like this "sport". For one thing, it is way too much like work! And that's if you are simply following the poor sap who is creating the tracks for you. Being in the lead takes the sport to a whole new level.Fortunately, since I had to take my tent down, those lucky ones who got a spot in the shelter hiked out first.(Does anyone else find it suspicious that Longhaul quits busting his ass to get out of the shelter at 4AM *as soon as* the weather gets a little hinky? I thought so.)Post-holing, besides being rather laborious, means that you don't go very fast. Still, I managed to do 13 miles: not a bad day. The highlight of the day was crossing Max Patch - one of the most notable balds on the trail. Approaching the summit the wind picked up noticeably, and then got progressively stronger as I climbed the rest of the way up. Near the top, there was a section of waist-deep snow. There the post-holes were nearly obliterated by the winds, so I was pretty much on my own. At one point, my right leg sank in up to my hip, and it wasn't immediately obvious how exactly I was going to be able to extricate myself - until perhaps the next melting period. (AWESOME. Did you get *that* on camera for your little documentary?) I finally managed to crawl out of that particular snow drift. I stood on solid ground once again, and looked back at the stretch I had just traversed. About 35 yards south, I saw a distinctive orange patch near the spot where I had flailed about -- my pack cover, caught and held tight by some brambles! There was no way I was going to retrace my path, but I had a sense that someone coming along behind me might pick it up and bring it along. (A boldly calculated risk.) Sure enough, Mr. Buffalo Man rescued it as he and Goofy passed by, and returned it to me at the shelter later that day.I could have stayed in the shelter that night, but decided I'd be warmer in my tent. There had been problems with bears at this shelter recently, so we all patted ourselves down for that spare Snickers bar wrapper or whatever.(And are you in the habit of stashing your candy wrappers in your undershorts, or what?) Which was a good thing, apparently, as we woke up to find fresh bear tracks in the snow. The bear walked right through our camp, within a few yards of my tent and the folks sleeping in the shelter, and spent most of its time at the bear cables where our food bags were hanging - carefully out of its reach.Tomorrow - Hot Springs! I may take a zero day there to recover, nurse my wounds, and get caught up on both my journaling and videotaping.