Date: 2015-05-04
From: Whitetop Mountain Road

To: Hurricane Mountain Shelter
Miles today: 22.0
Weather: broken clouds

Red Panda Sorepaws wanted to slow down today.The last couple of days I have been in a funk. I haven't been enjoying the trail as much. My mind has been preoccupied with thoughts of miles, men, home, and thickening thighs. And as I hiked today I knew that I was letting things get to me too much. I was too focused on getting the miles in and finishing for the day. I was too sad thinking about boys and the past and the future, as well as my thickening thighs and nonstop hunger. This is stupid. I am ruining my own adventure.So I decided to take a short day, aiming for Old Orchard Shelter, about 17 miles or so. I have been trying to do between 15 and 20 miles a day. That was my goal, so that I could average 15, with occasional rest days.Lately I have been doing many more miles. I think I unconsciously was trying to keep up with Frozen Mac. But she did like 30 miles yesterday, and is way ahead of me now. It is too much for me. I am kind of glad that she is so far ahead now. I won't even worry about catching up.So today I told myself that I would slow down. I would enjoy the trail more. I would spend the afternoon sitting and enjoying the wilderness. I could tell Mom and Dan to meet me at a different road crossing than initially planned if I got behind schedule for the week. Besides, I have plenty of time to get to Katahdin.And the hike was beautiful. Rolling hills, and cows, and the ponies of Grayson Highlands State Park. A lot of people walk right up to the ponies and let them lick the salty sweat off of their bodies but I am boring and lame and did not partake in this experience. I am already disgusting as it is, I don't need sticky pony saliva adding to my nastiness. I did enjoy them from a distance, though.Three miles from my shelter goal, I ran into Amish (who isn't Amish but looks like he is) and Easy Strider (when I asked why this was his name, Amish replied, "Because he's slow.") sitting and eating lunch. They offered to make room for me to sit and eat with them. I had already had lunch, but stopped to chat. I told them about my lost pages, and Easy Strider kindly offered to let me recharge my phone with his external battery.So the three of us walked to the shelter, chatting along the way. I held phone and charger as I walked and tried not to trip. When we got to Old Orchard Shelter, we stopped and they waited for Yeti, one of their group, to catch up. In the meantime they debated where to stop for the night. Steam Machine, their fourth and final group member, was miles ahead. They had to decide if they wanted to catch up to him. Steam Machine is German, and hiking long days and many miles to make sure that he can complete the trail before his visa expires. The others seemed to be getting tired of keeping up with him, yearning for a more leisurely hike.At this point I had already walked 18 miles, and I was tired. But I was considering tagging along with them. They were getting me back into the AT groove. Yeti arrived and I had the choice of staying where I was, or continuing 4 more miles to the next shelter with them. At this point it was 4 o'clock. Usually I am all set up, cleaned up, and have filled my water bottles by then. (Oh yeah! Mooch picked up my water bottle yesterday. She handed it off to Yeti, who walked past my tent and talked to me last night. He was CARRYING my bottle with him at this point but didn't mention it. He left it at a shelter this morning and I rejoiced when seeing it on the picnic table as I approached. I have to stop losing things.)I had to choose: stay alone at the shelter, relax, enjoy the peace and quiet, or somehow find the energy to hike four more miles, make friends, and add to the adventure.I went for it. What good is the greatest adventure of my life without spontaneity? They planned a campfire, and promised good conversation. I needed it. I needed the company and a reminder of why I am out here. Oh my god, it was HORRIBLE. Those 4 miles included like 1.5 of uphill. Bertha is still freaking heavy, full of 5 days worth of food. And I was already so tired. The morning had been rocky and my feet were killing me. I dragged along behind them, exhausted, feeling like I was going to die.They were fun to hike with. They harvested ramps from the side of the trail, joked and reminisced while they hiked. They have been hiking together since Georgia, having fallen in together since the first few days of their hikes.One thing I love about this group is that they call each other by their given names, not their trail names. When talking to other hikers, and when telling trail stories, they use trail names. But amongst themselves, they call each other by their "real" names. I like this. I think that trail names are fun and meaningful (and I love mine... it is super meaningful, connecting me to Candace and given by Trail Mentor Alexa), but there is something so vital and personal about the names we have carried our whole lives, that were given to us by our parents. I tell new people I meet on the trail my trail name. If I stick with them for a while, though, I sometimes prefer for them to use my real name. This isn't always the case, but sometimes.Back to the hike! For the first of the last miles, Easy Strider played an audiobook from a Bluetooth speaker on his pack. It was young adult fiction, about a boy named Bobby Pendragon. It was hilariously bad and I was loving it, especially since it was distracting me from my exhaustion. I love young adult books. They are easy and fun. The librarian (not mom) in my hometown always used to make fun of me for taking out young adult books. So I was enjoying i But then the speaker died.Then the uphill came. I HATE UPHILL. I slug-crawl uphill. And this afternoon, I was so tired. And Bertha still weighs about a bazillion pounds. With every step, I wanted to just stop and collapse in a sweaty, nasty, sunburned heap in the middle of the trail. But I sucked it up and tried not to die. I also had to pee really badly the entire time, which was extra miserable, but didn't want to stop. Eventually, we started downhill, and were flying, and then we made it! The first thing I did was dump Bertha and race off to pee.So we (also joined by 3D and Tinkerbell) pitched our tents and sat around the fire and chatted and it was very enjoyable. They laughed at my deplorable bear-bag-hanging skills (aka my complete lack of said skills), watching as I repeatedly threw and missed. I almost threw the rock I tied to the end of the rope after the rope had fallen off, but luckily noticed in time before horribly embarassing myself even more.But my feet hurt now. It is a good thing I will have the weekend to rest them and hopefully find new shoes.I am grateful that the trail brought me what I needed, some good and welcoming friends to camp with. I am thankful I have not been eaten by a bear. I am so tired.