Date: 2013-09-18
From: Stealth camp at Eddy Pond

To: Stealth camp on Woods road
Miles today: 9.9

I didn't sleep well last night. Maybe I just wasn't tired enough. I watched the sun rise through the trees and arc across the sky and then descend back down. My alarm went off around 5:45. It was till pretty dark out, but the morning light crept in as I packed my stuff and ate breakfast. I saw Hobo up and moving down by the lake shore. A slice of orange light cut across the mountains as the sun shone off the yellowing trees. The red berries on an unknown tree stood out particularly, especially against the evergreens. It was cold, but not as cold as the morning before. The wind was stronger, and it rippled across the top of the water. Again, I searched for a moose, but there was none to be seen.We'd planned to set off at 7:00, but we didn't get off until 7:20. I should have known better than to expect us to set off when we'd planned. What can I say, I'm a so learner. LOL. I was itching to get going, so once we had our packs on and I was given the nod, I shot up the hill like a rocket. My engine was running on frustration, but my head and heart just weren't into the hike. Now that Tom is so close to being home, I no longer see this mountains and this trail as a wonderful distraction. I see it as a bunch of damn hard obstacles standing between me and him. And that pisses me off. I chided myself for "wishing away" these last few upcoming weeks, and yet all I could think was, "Are all these mountains and hills really necessary?" Of course not. But it wouldn't be the AT otherwise. The scenery was beautiful, but the trail was rock-slab walking; my least favorite type of trail. So we huffed and puffed up through a dense forest. Sweet balsam hung in the air, as did the smell of dried leaves. Fall was upon us. There was no more denying it. The winds picked up, and suddenly we had an awesome view back down over Eddy Pond. It looked so tiny from way up here. The big boulders and the island in the middle of the pond looked like tiny flaws rather than the substantial landmarks that they were. We hiked up several false summits, the wind growing ever stronger as we climbed higher and higher. Finally at the top of Saddleback the view and lighting were spectacular. We braced ourselves against the wind to take photos with the summit sign. The blue haze of the mountains combined with the reddening foliage to give the mountains a distinctive violet hue. The wind continued to barrel at us from the side. It was cold, and my fingers went numb. We had to yell to talk with each other because the flapping of our rain jackets against our ears was so loud. I conceded that my hiking partners were right in stopping down below to camp last night. There were no decent stealth camping spots atop the mountain, not that we'd have been able to set our tents up in the wind even if there had been. I hate being wrong. LOL. We continued past the summit, and I followed the white blazed until the mountain just seemed to drop off and disappear. Son of a bitch, I muttered under my breath. Or maybe I shouted it. Or maybe I said something even more colorful. You'd have to ask Hobo. Anywho, I stepped aside to let Walking Stick and Hobo pass. They are much faster and less timid. Immediately they were a full-body's length beneath me as they started down the sharp, irregular boulders marked with white blazes but no real obvious way to negotiate them. Oh, I was irked. And my knees already hurt. I was just a barrel of laughs to be hiking with, lucky guys.I got more and more frustrated as I climbed down. I had heard this was a tough section to build trail in, but sometimes there doesn't seem to be much of a trail, just sharp, steep, bare rocks stacked haphazardly on top of each other From the top of Saddleback you could see a strip of bare rock slab that connected Saddleback Mountain to the Horn. From the top looking down, it looked easy, and it really wasn't too bad once I got down the initial descent, but the howling winds, the ups and downs, and the additional 215 miles to go just got the best of me. Hobo was waiting for me at the bottom. I walked towards him with my poles dragging behind me. He smiled sympathetically, and I said what I was feeling. I was tired of all of this shit. At first I laughed, and then I just started crying. Hobo opened his arms and gave me a big hug, and I just started sobbing on his shoulder. I had a good, hearty cry. When I got it all out, I pulled away and saw a puddle of tears on his shoulder. Good thing he was wearing his rain jacket. But oh, I felt so much better. And afterwards, I was much easier to be around.We climbed up and down the Horn. There were plenty of rock slabs, plenty of mud, and plenty of wind. We stopped near the top of Saddleback Junior to have lunch. We found a narrow, flat spot with a big rock to block some of the wind. We stretched out in the warm sunshine and each had a quick snooze to let our food digest. I'm going to miss these alpine cat naps. A large group of Nobos passed us, and I didn't know any of them. It seems strange to me that in the last 2000 miles I still haven't met everyone, especially those that started around the same time as me. We stopped at Poplar Ridge Lean-to. It was a neat old shelter with bat-handle posts as the floor of the shelter. There was a shelter trivia book with lots of interesting tidbits. It also had information about Inchworm. This shelter was the last known place anyone saw her and where the last photo of her was taken. It gave us pause. Cheech & Chong passed by. I'd just met them yesterday, and they'd also started about the same time as me.We headed down a long descent. Some of it was steep, rocky, and knee-aching. Some of it was dirt, but all of it was rooty. .It was next to impossible to keep up any pace or rhythm. We had a little rock-hop river ford. We'd planned to camp by the river, but the river banks were way too steep. Damn. We'd heard that there wasn't much in the way of camping opportunities nearby so we cameled up on water and filled our reservoirs. There was a virtually vertical .1 mile climb up, but at the top we found an old railroad bed that the trail crossed. Perfect! We crossed a small creek with a cascading waterfall (good thing we'd just humped up all that water!), and down a few more yards was a great camping spot complete with fire ring. Oh yeah.The sun held in the sky until we got our tents up. There was one last magic ray of light that shone down onto the pool of water at the base of the cascade. The pool looked like a perfect place for a soak, but it was way too cold. I took a frigid sponge bath and then went back to camp to make dinner. Walking Stick made a great fire, but we were still all in our tents by 7:30. It was already pitch black out. Crazy. I miss the long days of summer. Oh well, at least I get to sleep. Oh a least than stellar note, I found a burn hole in my down jacket. I put a little piece of duct tape over it to keep the feathers in, but I'm kind of bummed about it. Especially since its right square in the front next to the zipper.