Date: 2017-08-19
From: Stony Brook Shelter Tent Site

To: Stealth campsite along Promfret Brook
Miles today: 18.1
Weather: few clouds

8/19Stony Brook Shelter Tent Site to Stealth campsite along Promfret Brook18.1 milesTotal miles:  1728.9I was much more sore than usual when I arrived at the campsite last night, especially my shoulders, so I was pleased to find that I felt no pain this morning.  I planned another relatively long day of 18.1 miles today. I would not be able to make it to the shelter which was twenty-three miles away, so I looked on Guthooks, which indicated a small, unofficial campsite by Pomfret Brook. That became my objective for the day. As I was packing, I met Stretch, a sobo whose tent was near mine. Communication between sobos and nobos is very helpful, because the one has already accomplished what the other still has to do. Many times I have commented to sobos on the trail what will be coming up for them and have had the favor returned. My present concern was Hanover, where lodging can be expensive and scarce. Stretch told me that Dartmouth College allows hikers to camp for free in the woods alongside their softball field. She also let me know that the site is within easy walking distance of a food co-op, that offers good resupply options, as well as delicious rotisserie chicken and ice cream. Hanover problem solved! Thanks again, Stretch, and good hiking to Springer.  I was a little later getting on trail this morning but was confident I could make my objective before nightfall. For most of the day, the trail was pretty reasonable considering the amount of rain that fell yesterday.  Today, on the other hand, was cool and sunny. I did come across a very steep, rock drop off, that the trail designers solved by tying an aluminum ladder to trees so it leaned against the rock face. A bit later on, I slipped and fell on a tilted, flat rock before a stream. I fell completely down, but no harm done. It actually was a wonderful piece of happenstance. I berated my carelessness out loud, reminding myself with a few choice words that I needed to be careful, and, of course the blankety-blank rocks were slick.  I hiked perhaps a hundred feet beyond the stream and saw a blue tent like mine set up on a small, stealth camp spot.  I said to myself, "That could be Brooke." Well, it was Brooke, who I haven't seen since the Shenandoahs. He recognized my voice as I rather colorfully counseled myself by the stream, and he got out of his tent to say hello. We had a good chat about our progress before I continued on. It was good to see him again, and I owe it all to my inherent clumsiness.  I made good time to my next objective, The Lookout, a privately owned cabin with a lookout perch constructed on the roof. The owners allow hikers to stay there, and I wanted to check it out. Right before I got there, I saw Spills, who was slackpacking southbound today. We talked about the rest of my time with Becky, and she asked me to tell her "hi" for her.  The view from The Lookout was spectacular, and the weather cooperated by being sunny and clear. There was a sign by the door, cautioning that there was to be no "tires" of any kind.  I demonstrated my quick thinking by asking Skywalker what purpose there was to banning bicycles and ATVs before realizing that some jokester had changed the "f" on the word "fires" to a "t." Sigh.  It was apparent that it was a sunny day following a rainy one by the number of tents, sleeping bags, and other equipment spread out on the bushes surrounding the cabin. Fortunately, I had not had to set up or break camp in the rain, so my gear remainded pretty much dry.  I enjoyed the view from the perch for a bit and ate my lunch before continuing on. The woods today often consisted of a myriad of slender trees intermixed with larger ones that allowed the sunlight through in a bright, dappled fashion. It was quite beautiful.  The trail also poked out of the woods several times today and crossed sunny meadows of grass and wildflowers.  The contrast was amazing. So much of the AT is in the woods that it is unexpectedly refreshing to walk in fields, particularly ones with colorful flowers and with farm houses and mountains in the distance.  The trail also wound its way through very thick brush, higher than my head, which, honestly, was not my favorite part of the day. I learned about On the Edge Farm from a passing sobo but probably would have checked it out anyway from their sign on the AT information board by Bernard Gulf Road (VT 12). Located a mere 0.2 miles off trail,  On the Edge Farm offers all kinds of tasty and healthy homemade options. I chatted with Dana, the owner, as I purchased a huge piece of watermelon, a banana, a Gatorade, and a delicious Vermont Maple Soda. I sat at the picnic table with Bisquick as I ate.  Fresh fruit has become a new go-to food for me when it is available. This side trip delayed me a bit, but I'm really glad I stopped, as it did wonders to refresh me for the several relatively short, but very steep, hills that still separated me from Pomfret Brook. I covered the last four miles of the day in fine spirits and found a nice little flat spot, with a fallen log that served nicely as a bench, just up the hill from the brook, which is actually quite large by AT standards.  I set up my tent,  threw up my bear rope (always much easier done before dark), and got water from the brook as the sun set. I arrived at 7:20, and it was too dark to function without a headlamp by a bit after eight. As I cooked my supper by the light of my lamp, I realized that for the first time of this entire trip, I am camping all by myself. While I tend to be a social person, I found myself trully enjoying the solitude. I'm presently snug in my sleeping bag on a slightly cool night, listening to the water of Pomfret Brook, probably somewhat swollen by the recent rain, rush by.  I plan on an early start tomorrow,  as I have 18.8 miles to travel to get to Hanover. My friend, Dustin, will be meeting me there to hike the next three days with me. He's a good friend and an accomplished outdoorsman, who, years ago as a Boy Scout, patiently tried to teach his Scoutmaster how to fly fish. He's flying from Denver to hike with me, and to add another chapter in this journey's storybook. I'm really looking forward to sharing a part of it with him.