Date: 2010-07-16
From: Mt. Algo Lean-To

To: West Cornwall Rd.
Miles today: 16.2

The day is brutal, especially by my preconceived notions of mild New England weather, and every light on the dashboard is blinking...The BadThe weather is hot, hovering around 90 degrees with barely a puff of wind in the air, the occasional stray breeze that somehow finds passage from the treetops down to trail level feeling more like a hair dryer on low setting. The air is heavy, thick with an insulating humidity that seals a bubble of discomfort around me, reminding me of the oppressive feeling of climbing into an attic during the summer. The intermittent clouds that pass overhead have a grayness indicative of their moist burden but the one time I wish for a cooling rain it never comes, and instead I imagine these clouds exhaling their vapor lode into the already over-ripe atmosphere around me.The UglyBy 7:30a, within the first 15 minutes of my hike, my shirt is traced with rings of sweat around my shoulder and waist straps and I flick the drops from my eyebrows that are already seeping down my face and forehead. If there's such a thing as a 'sweat gene' then there's no doubt it's in my makeup, but unlike most other days it doesn't dissipate from my person but instead collects and lingers with the seeming effect of actually limiting this cooling capacity. My shirt is soaked within an hour, stuck to my body like a second skin, gravity pulling the abundant moisture to the bottom hem where it leeches into my shorts, soaking them as well. At my first break I peel the shirt off my back, wringing out an impressive amount of moisture into a small puddle at my feet, an activity I repeat several times over the course of the day.An unwelcome side effect of the sweat seeping into my shorts is the chaffing that accompanies. I've chaffed under my arms a couple times from aggressive poling but today I chafe on my thighs, creating angry red spots of irritation that scream out with every step. Another hiker complains of chaffing in the groin, thigh, and waist so I'm not alone in my misery.I bought new insoles in NYC and today is my second on the trail with them. I feel a 'hot spot' on my right pinky tow around mid-morning but I don't pay much attention to it at the time, my mind focused on the cascade of other uncomfortable issues assaulting me. Around 1:00p the pain has grown acute to the point that my thoughts of dealing with it at the end of the day dim. I don't want to stop but something tells me I should do otherwise, so I stop by a brook, remove sock and shoe, and witness a blister that almost doubles the size of this littlest digit. With a sigh and groan I have to deal with this now. I empty the contents of my entire pack to get at my rarely used first aid kit located at the bottom and retrieve a needle, blister skin, and tape. I first fire the needle to sterilize before lancing the affront in 3 locations, fully draining it before wiping with a steri-wipe and wrapping with blister skin and tape. The dressing looks satisfactory and I reunite foot, sock, and shoe before gingerly setting out once again, now favoring my left leg to avoid maximum pressure and impact on my right.I've hiked through snow, rain, sleet, thunderstorms, and high winds, up and down hills both steep and mild, but nothing has presented as debilitating an effect on me as this combination of heat and humidity. The heat is a blatant thief, robbing me of energy, drive, and willpower. I know my body can perform better than this, should perform better than this, but no amount of will or coercion can overcome this foe. Internally my body is waging its own battle, fighting to keep itself cool, pouring out sweat while triggering feelings of nausea that lessen my hunger and the desire for food that I need to keep this machine running. I assume these signals are a natural biological response so that my body doesn't have to deal with the additional burden of processing food but instead can focus all precious energy and resources on maintaining vital organs and not over-heating. By the end of the day I can feel myself bonking, the smallest hills present inordinate challenges that leave me pausing and panting until I can press on.The GoodMy Aunt Judy and her husband Al are vacationing in NY and we have a tentative plan to meet up today around 3:00 at a predetermined road crossing. Cell phone signals are intermittent and I have trouble reaching them, so I press on to our rendezvous point with tempered hope of our meeting (tempered in the event there was a miscue and we aren't able to meet) and rescue from this morass. Two miles before the road crossing we finally make contact and a wave of relief floods over me. At a minimum we'll catch up over dinner in town, and perhaps, even better, split a motel. We haven't discussed plans so I'm careful not to let my hopes outweigh reality and the possible letdown from my perhaps lofty expectations on this very trying day. I arrive at the crossing first and my relief is palpable at their arrival, claiming most sincerely that they are indeed a sight for sore eyes on what has been one of my most, if not THE most, trying day on the trail.We check into a motel, courtesy of my gracious hosts, before taking dinner. It's great seeing them and they are empathetic to the trying times and conditions I face, at one point Judy approaching me to declare their plans to slack pack me for the next couple days. I'm incredibly touched that they would think of changing their travel plans to help me out but I can't ask this of them. I've been feeling low since the debilitating 100 degree heat back in New Jersey and my enthusiasm and energy at the moment is at an ebb. I call Rox and after chatting we agree I'll get off the trail to recoup and reassess. So there it is, after 1400 miles, I now step back to ponder where I've been, where I am, and where I'm going. At the moment I'm not sure whether this is a pause or an end but within the next 1-2 weeks I'll decide if a return to the trail is where my passions truly lie or whether I've already gotten what I wanted out of this adventure. Stay tuned...