Date: 2010-04-15
From: Chestnut Knob Shelter

To: Jenkins Shelter
Miles today: 10.0
Weather: few clouds

"I am weary as I have seldom been before, weary as no Ranger should be with a clear trail to follow." -- Aragorn from The Two Towers by J.R.R. TolkienThe day started off well. I was up and packing by 5:00 and on the trail at 5:40. Once again deer ran off, eyes gleamed back at me by my headlamp, and the stars shone brightly. By the time I got down to Walker Gap the headlamp was no longer necessary. I stopped and got water from a piped source and then hurried on my way, once again hoping to beat the heat that was forecast for later in the day. The trail led up to the top of a narrow ridge, the very spine of the ridge.   Below me, to my left, lay Burkes Garden, a bowl-shaped valley, also known as "the thumbprint of God." I knew it was filled with small farms, but for now it was shrouded in fog.As the morning wore on and the sun rose higher the fog began to disappear. At first only the higher places became visible, looking like islands in the sea of mist. Then gradually, the barns and houses began to appear, the fog pulling back, Brigadoon-like, to begin the day. A cow somewhere below had much to say, mooing on and on. A while later a chainsaw was started, shattering the peacefulness of the scene.The elevation profile on my map had made it look like once I had gained the ridge I would have a fairly level walk. Unfortunately, the trail followed every undulation in the ridge. To make things more difficult, the trail had lots of rocks in it.The temperature climbed quickly and I began to feel hot and tired and frustrated. The time that I had expected to reach a road crossing came and went. I seemed to make very little progress despite what seemed a great deal of effort. My feet and knees hurt. I was feeling very discouraged about my slow pace. How would I *ever* make it to Maine at this rate. It was hopeless.So I finally threw off my pack and called my husband and complained and whined at him. Patient man that he is, he listened and encouraged me, chucked me under the chin and suggested that I take a zero at Bland when I got there. I was still upset, but not as much. I continued on, up and down, up and down, over rocks and more rocks. At long last I reached Jenkins Shelter and settled in. The water source was a nice little stream. I treated water and then made something to drink and then made soup and then something more to drink. I had remembered reading that there is a correlation between dehydration and negative thoughts. I figured that I might still be a bit dehydrated from the previous day and that, by golly, I would remedy that situation and see if things would improve.I went to a spot lower down the stream and off to the side and rinsed myself off. It took a long time before the runoff from my face did not taste salty. By then I was feeling cooler and somewhat more refreshed. It wasn't too long after that that Gerda showed up. She, too, had found the rocks unpleasant, but she was much faster.   We talked about how we were both feeling very tired and wanted a break. We decided that the next day we would hike to the next road crossing, try to get a shuttle to Big Walker Motel in Bland. Perhaps we could do a little slackpacking. At the very least we could zero and take a break. I journalled for a while and then had dinner. Both Gerda and I turned in early, and then two hikers showed up. Finally things settled down.I was very weary and fell asleep immediately. I have a clear trail to follow, but it would have to wait.