Date: 2013-06-27
From: Mass.

To: Mass
Miles today: 0.0

so who woulda thunk id make it to Massachusetts; I thought it was pretty cool, till i got to just outside of Great Barrington. I had just stayed in a motel, then done a work for stay on an organic farm-a pleasant break from the trail, then i get dropped off at US 7. Dom, the organic farmer drops me off after my day and morning of farm chores. Just in front of me is the Housatonic aka "Housatoxic" river. I get out of the car, say my goodbyes and head out into the woods; which i have missed in my day away from the trail. Immediately, i am swarmed with a horde of mosquitoes incomparable to anything i have ever experienced. Trudging in agony, i throw my pack to the ground and whip out my only long sleeve shirt i have to dis-spell the skeeters. The torment! The pain! To this day i declare that the hardest part of the trail, physically and mentally. Had it lasted any longer i would have wound up a crazed, blood-drained lunatic rolling around in my tent pitched in the middle of the trail, waiving the white flag of surrender, calling the nearest helicopter for a airlift out. Fortunately, the swarm only lasted about 3 miles; though that is quite a long time while getting attacked. Welcome to southern Mass. The next two days are relatively short days- under 15's. One highlight is Upper Goose Pond Cabin. This red-painted paradise rests right on Upper Goose Pond; a place only accessible by hiking or boating. A volunteer caretaker runs the show for a week before rotating out. The caretakers cook pancakes in the morning for hikers, and row a canoe across the pond/lake to fill up gallons of spring water. I got there in the early afternoon. As is goes as a hiker, we tend to feel like we have to hike. So when such a gem turns up, we stop, but feel like we should continue on; a pull northwards. I struggle with my thoughts as i feel like i should continue on for the day. But, twenty minutes down on the dock change my mind. The tranquility, the peace, the beauty..I am stuck. My stay at Upper Goose Pond revitalized what i wished for myself during this hike. My worries melted away like the sun behind the faded mountains. I walk the next day into Dalton, Ma. The trail has a way of disregarding expectation. It tends to undershoot them, or exceed them. The ladder is right for my arrival into Dalton. I read in the guide book that this guy Tom Lavardi puts hikers up and lets them camp in his back yard. Without shedding too much detail, the guy hooks hikers up with a splendid stay. I zero in Dalton. I'm taking it easy. I see the spec that is the light at the end of the green tunnel. The end is visible.When opportunity reveals itself, you have to grab it. So upon leaving Cheshire, Ma, I pitch my tent under a slab of rock which looks like it should slide at any second. It keeps me mostly protected from the rain, and offers a dry cooking space during the rain. A slab of rock juts out about 5 feet on top of another giant rock...a roof of sorts. The next day consists of a foggy climb up Mt Greylock, Ma's highest peak. Another great viewpoint obscured by clouds; a theme on this venture thus far. The cloudy conditions wear on my mental fatigue. I struggle with motivation, but trudge on. But this section demands a new approach to hiking. 10 by 10 is no longer needed. I can sleep in, take my time, and enjoy. I do just that, throw the schedule further out the window and before i know it, the Vermont border is in front of me, and a new sense of motivation arises.I never doubted my ability, but i never imagined the reality of the hike coming to life.