Date: 2003-07-06
From: Kent, CT

To: Cornwall Bridge
Miles today: 17.5

Cue in Willie Nelson: "...on the road again..."So here I am in a cherry red custom Jeep, Itchy at the wheel, cuppajoe in my hand, full belly, speeding down the Trail, er, road at 65 mph, Derrick following in a green BMW convertible with the top down...On the highway, there is more wildlife in evidence than I see in a day - a coyote runs across the road, wild turkeys strut on the verge, a deer peeps out a black-bead nose.I'm telling you, life on the AT is tough!Actually, we're not quite on the Trail yet. We're heading back to 341 to continue our trek slack-packing today. That's right, we're leaving those hot, heavy, nasty old packs behind and carrying only the bare essentials, which turns out to be a lotta stuff: 2 liters water, lunch, snacks, pocketmail, water treatment, camera, ibuprofen, TP, bug dope, reading glasses, guidebook. So much for "freedom hiking."Derrick is hiking with us today, and turns out to be a strong hiker. We climbed a ridge, dripping in the heat despite our packlessness. On top, we picking wild blueberries, just a few nuggets but all the sweeter for their scarcity.We ridgewalk, then a steep descent from St. John's Ledges to a river walk next to the lovely Housatonic. Signs warn us to eat a meal of Housatonic fish only once every two months. What have we done to our waters?We try to eat a meal ourselves, by the rocks in the river. But about the time I got the last crumb stuffed in my mouth, Itchy was putting on his daypack to go. "You ready?" he asked. Some things never change. Itchy had me over a barrel today - he owned the car at the other end.The river walk is flat - a true footpath. Shoot, ANYBODY could walk to Maine on this path...We meet up with Damp Dan, who I hadn't seen since Glasgow, VA. We chat a bit - not many thru-hikers along in this section. I collect some more water from a lovely, cold spring, then wet myself down before heading up the slope and onto the ridges again.It was hot, big surprise, and soon we were dragging, me especially. I'm not a Hot Weather Princess. At some point we come upon some children playing in a mountain pool, the water clear. The light bulb goes on. We went upstream about a quarter mile and found our own pool. I sat in it fully clothed, and finally cooled down. I felt a lot better after that, a little spring returning to my legs.It was a welcome sight to cross the little log bridge and see Derrick's BMW convertible waiting patiently beside the road. We piled our sweaty selves in and beat feet to the nearest deli, where I ate a most delicious smoked turkey and provolone on sun-dried-tomato foccacia. Ahhhh. We topped off our feasts with a gigantic root beer float. We still had an appetite for the grilled salmon, pesto pasta and french bread supper Lupe and Brandi put together for us.I got on the Web, sweet Web, and started searching for a rental car to drive to my brother's wedding in Wisconsin next week. The hard part is not knowing exactly where I will be. When you're on foot, lots can go wrong to delay - rough terrain, killing heat, injury-nursing, resupply stops. On the other hand, if it all flows, I'd be either pondering how to get back or cooling my heels for a couple days.My brother's high school friend Dale has been helping me sort out the whys and wherefores of it all, via long distance. This is an tremendous help, because normally I don't have access to a computer. (I type my journal on pocketmail, then send it via phone to Suz Buchanan, who then spell checks it and pastes it on the Web). Dale, who just drove this route, tells me to allow 20 hours for travel. Two days just for travel, and I'll have to get a room somewhere. Then reverse the process on the return trip.So, right now, it's all too theoretical, and the math makes my tired head hurt.