Date: 2015-08-26
From: Spaulding Mountain Lean-To

To: Poplar Ridge Lean-To
Miles today: 8.0
Weather: broken clouds

When I woke, it was still raining. I pulled the sleeping bag over my head and seriously thought about sleeping all day in this shelter. The man who was asleep when I arrived last night got up. He complained in his humorous way, the whole time he packed and put on his wet socks and shoes. I related to every comment. Yet, he packed and left in the rain.   I simply had NO motivation to leave in the rain. The other man stirred. He did not want to leave in the rain. So we talked. I told him about a journal entry at The Appalachian Trail Lodge in Millinocket by a northbounder who had just finished. She wrote , "Now what?" I said I felt the same way now that I was retired. He was from West Virginia. He retired in his 30's and ever since had been wondering "Now what?" He had a wife and four children at home. He had experimented with drugs but that did not seem to answer his question. He had stayed at a hostel south of here (Hikers Hostel at the Yellow Deli ???). People said it was a cult. They consolidated their assets similar to how I heard the hippies used to do on communes. He said this is how the beginning Christian church lived in the book of Acts. He had studied the Bible. Not many people have, he said. He had not seen in action people living the way the Acts church lived. He was thinking of going back in the winter and stay a few months. He missed his wife and children.   The rain seemed to be clearing, so I got underway. The trail was nice and flat to downhill. Just the kind of hike I wanted. When I filled my water bottle, one of my tops was missing. The bottle was non-functional without the top. But I chose to not litter and continue to carry the bottle. The AT Guide said there was a ford of the Orbeton Stream. For me, it was rock hopping to a plank across two boulders followed by more rock hopping. It was nice that I did not have to take off my shoes to cross the stream.    From the stream, it was a steep climb. About three in the afternoon I met a few men coming down. They said the shelter was full. It seemed unusual for a shelter to be full so early in the day. I kept hiking uphill. It was too early in the day to stop and there were no obvious campsites after the stream. I met some more people coming downhill. They too said the shelter was full.    As the sun was setting, I saw a couple setting up a tent a little off the trail.   I asked if I could camp near them. The woman said yes, but there was a nearby site for one tent I might like better. I set up my tarp there. They said the water was down the hill in front of the shelter. As I was setting up my tarp, I heard, "Iris, is that you?" It was Trail Mike. My heart sunk. I thought I had left him in the dust in Stratton. I realized I had tired myself out with my Stratton push and now Mike caught up with me. He handed me the top to my Gatorade bottle. When he saw it, he immediately thought of me and picked it up. He was going to find a campsite. He asked me to give him a shout as I left camp in the morning.   That night I agonized as to how to handle this gut feeling I had about Trail Mike.