Date: 2009-08-17
From: Caesar Brook Campsite

To: Limestone Spring Lean To
Miles today: 15.7

Oh well decision made I put on shorts this morning and took a deep breath and went out to challenge the rampaging hoards of mosquitoes to do their damnedest.It¢s funny mow looking back at New Jersey ¢ all the bitching and moaning about the bugs in the registers. I¢d moaned a little too but I¢d endured it with mo bug spray and only seemed to get bit 8 to 10 times a day. At that level you remember (and grudge) each one. It becomes personal. It was irritating and it wasn¢t pleasant but neither was it as bad as everybody made out. I felt that in New York things got a little worse. I remember thinking I had reached new depths on the 12th of August when I reported 35 to 40 bites. Oh how that seems funny now! Thinking of descending Mount Algo I pondered one important question ¢ was that merely the worst so far? Please for the sake of my poor spindly exposed legs let it be the latter. Come what may I have to endure the bugs today as they were and unavoidable consequence of looking after my rump.Things started poorly. It was another warm and humid morning and it didn¢t take long for a gnawing discomfort to return to my derriere. I cushioned it for a while ¢ holding my hands between my back and the lumber pad of my pack but you can only do so much of that. Sometimes it hurt and sometimes it didn¢t. Then, sometime later focussed on moving, cursing the bugs and cushioning my rump I suddenly realised that it had been ages since the rash had actually troubled me. It¢s always a good thing when you don¢t notice discomfort and while not wishing to get overconfident I felt positive. The morning had passed uneventfully and that was just dandy from my perspective.Reaching US7 the Trail took a detour (nice white blazes on a bright orange background) due to some maintenance on the Housatonic River Bridge. It was a longish (3 or 4 miles) road walk but apart from the lack of shade it was fine.This morning¢s constant motion and the fast road miles meant that I was making good time, so I decided to cool my jets at the shady, bug-free picnic area just across the river from the hydroelectric plant. It offered much needed relief and I took my relaxing in the only ways I know how: I ate, I drank, I sat and stared into space, I read and I scribbled some notes. When I finally summoned the energy to make a move I realise the another nice spot, Great Falls, was a mere half a mile away, had I been thinking ahead I might not have spent quite so much time here buy for some reason I just seemed to be living in the moment today and not looking at the big picture. Oh well, guess it just means that I¢ll be having another break in 15 minutes.The falls are a great little spot. Not that much water but high rocks with good flat ledges and pools above and a little lower a small cliff people jump off into the pool below. I guess it draws a crowd most days but with the heat becoming oppressive a fait number of folks were out soaking, sunbathing, looking, swimming in the pool at the bottom and indeed jumping off the cliff. Being no particular daredevil I wandered around before finding a little shade to read some more of my book. Again I seemed to be living in the moment; as I stood up to leave I realised that I missed a golden opportunity to wash some clothes, which would have dried on the hot stone in no time at all. Maybe I could have had my trousers back on tomorrow, or at least reduced the noxious damp ammonia smell emitting from my bag of dirty clothes. As I say, not one of my better days for planning. Even getting back on the Trail I realise I probably left too early. I didn¢t have far to go and now instead of enjoying more time at the Falls I¢d end up spending it in my tent. C¢est la vie! My poor judgement was further rubbed in my face by the bugs that were bad, bad, bad as I marched manically up Prospect Mountain (worst so far, wirst by far ¢ prepare for the worst and hope for the best).I raced into Limestone Spring Lean To and immediately dived into my pack for my rain pants to shield my poor legs, taking off my shoes the bugs attacked my feet through my socks. Eventually I had more or less created a protective barrier between me and my, by now sworn enemies.I¢d made it through, soon I¢d be safely in my tent. I was a bit battered, maybe even bowed but certainly not beaten.It¢s funny though, all you need is 15 minutes respite and it¢s as if it never happened, you can remember it being bad but you cannot really remember how. And so it was tonight as I read a Sports Illustrated, pumped some water, ate and enjoyed my ¢imprisonment¢ come ¢voluntary confinement¢.Later on I headed out to put my food in the bear box and to chat to Charlie, a part time entomologist, out checking on some of the creepy crawlies that abound around these parts. He had also, if I wasn¢t mistaken, made quite a dent in the flask of whiskey he had brought with him. We has an interesting, if at times stilted, conversation as Charlie struggles to get the messages from his brain to his mouth. It was fun though and the nightcap he offered me did go down a treat.