Date: 2005-08-05
From: Lost Pond Shelter

To: Little Rock Pond Shelter
Miles today: 18.2
Weather: broken clouds

8:12pm - Leap of FaithFor some unknown reason, I started early today. And I mean really early - I was hiking by 6:15am. It was a nice morning and I soon arrived at the peak of Bromley Mountain. It was very cool. Not the views - I'm sure they would have been spectacular, though, if not for the early morning haze obscuring all but the closest peaks. No, it was the summit itself that intrigued me. Bromley is a major ski resort. Walking around the non-operational lifts, snow makers, and other equipment felt like passing through a ghost town. There was also a cabin up top that they leave unlocked for thru-hikers. Combined with the observation tower, the summit would have been a great place to spend last night. But that's alright - the people you're with often matter more than the place, and I wouldn't want to trade last night for anything.I kept on walking. By the time I reached Griffith Lake and stopped for a quick snack, it felt as though a storm was brewing. As I crossed the rocky summit of Baker's Peak, I was sure of it. Any other day I would have stopped for lunch up top. Today I was primarily concerned with not becoming a lightning rod. I hiked on two more miles and had lunch at Lost Pond Shelter instead.And then an odd thing happened. The storm front disappeared completely without a drop of rain falling. The sun came out and gave me a gorgeous afternoon. I don't understand it at all, but I'm not complaining.As I walked on I was acutely aware of how the forest moves around you. Sometimes it feels as if the winds part ever so slightly to allow you to slip between, or the rain falls off course to ensure you get soaked. But walking though the woods, you know the forest is watching. Toads hop out of your way; salamanders scurry. You spy a single stalk moving. Is it a squirrel in the bush? Is it Marshall?* A tiny moose perhaps?One toad, though, seemed a few sandwiches short of a picnic. As I was walking, he hopped right in the path of my left foot as I swung it forward. The two connected and the toad soared, splashing down twenty feet away in a nearby stream. I don't know which of us was more surprised. I think it's the first time I've punted a toad.Mid afternoon I arrived at Little Rock Pond. I asked the caretaker about good swimming spots and was directed to some rocks on the far side. I was told that one could jump off the smaller rock into the water. Standing atop the rock some while later, I realized that the "smaller" rock still seemed quite high - 15 feet or so. I had investigated below and confirmed that the water was indeed deep enough and snag free, but still I hesitated. I'm not afraid of heights, I'm just cautious around them, finally, I swallowed hard and jumped. After 1,000 miles I refused to leave any room for regret.I talked to a couple out for the day with their kids for some time before returning to the AT side of the pond. While eating dinner on the shore a passing hiker asked if I'd seen so-and-so at the last road crossing. I replied with a blank stare. He elaborated. Apparently a hiker feed was in progress 2 miles south. As usual, my eagerness to hike caused me to miss some great trail magic - this isn't the first time I've passed through right before something happened. I later learned that it's just hot dogs tonight and pancakes tomorrow morning. I think I'll live.Vapors, Thunder, and Jaybird haven't arrived so I'm guessing they're caught up in the feed and sticking around until the morning. It's just me and a southbounder named EJ at the shelter tonight. Plus the usual crop of mosquitos, of course. It wouldn't be camping without them.*It's a little known fact that there's only one chipmunk along the trail. His name is Marshall. He gets up and hikes north with us every morning. If you ever see multiple chipmunks, Marshall's just using mirrors. He's a clever one, that Marshall.