Date: 2008-04-09
From: Campsite 0.5 miles before Wayah Bald Shelter

To: A. Rufus Morgan Shelter
Miles today: 15.5
Weather: clear sky

Before I tell you what I did today, I should tell you what happened AFTER I wrote the last trailjournal entry in Franklin...this is my entry from that day (yesterday):Disaster. This morning I hitched into Franklin after 4 miles from Rock Gap Shelter. I went to the library, I ordered breakfast from a friendly waitress, I resupplied at a grocery store. None of which were signs that I was about to have one of the most painful experiences of my life. I hitched back with Daniel and ThunderinThighs. We wanted to do 11 more miles, making it a 15 mile day even with going into town. The first 8 went pretty well. Then Dan and Thighs spotted what they thought were these wild onion things growing out of the ground. Apparently they had seen an old man pulling these out and eating the roots. I was game to try and ate one. So did they. It was bitter and acrid and not very good, but not horrible either. We hiked on. "Go ahead," I told them - all the Burger King I ate in town was catching up with me. I slowed my pace. I felt naseous. I slowed more. Every step was becoming tortuous. I hiked 2.5 miles in probably about 2 hours. I was 0.5 miles from the shelter. I was passing a campsite. The people there said hello...I hiked on 0.1 miles. I turned to the side. I puked. I puked again. And again and again. My french fries and hamburger from Burger King were being ejected."Food poisoning," I thought..."I have food poisoning." I had never had food poisoning before. I undid my pack, threw my poles down, and got down on all fours over my vomit. I retched into it more. I was dry heaving. My stomach only hurt more. I stuck my finger down my throat. Some darker colored liquid came out. I had no energy, I couldn't make it to the shelter. To move was a chore - suddenly 0.4 miles was an impossible distance.Pepto-Bismol. I suddenly remembered I had it in my pack. Probably out of its league here but worth a try. I took my sleeping pad and ukulele off my pack and opened it. I took the food bag out, I grabbed the bathroom bag out of it. This was an olympian labor...every movement demanding more energy than I thought I had. I ate one Pepto tablet. I instantly threw it up. Then - oh, no - the sudden revelation that I had to go to the bathroom, immediately. The more squeamish of you should probably stop reading now. Usually I go off the travel quite a distance for this, but I couldn't - I walked 20 feet into the woods. What followed was a misery of a magnitude in which the release of death would not have been wholly unwelcome. I was puking, I was going to the bathroom. I had no energy. I hurt all over. My muscles hurt, my head hurt, my stomach felt unbearable - I have never had such stomach pain. I was there for perhaps 30 minutes. I rested my head on my bent leg. I was freezing. It wasn't very cold. I went back to the trail. My pack contents were strewn about. I wanted to lay down right on the trail and go to sleep. I felt like I was dying. 0.1 miles seemed too far to try for. But then I thought...I'm in a bit of a situation, I should probably try to get my wits about me about get out of here. I started repacking my pack. I would carry my sleeping pad and uke, and poles. I packed the food bag, the last item. I heaved the pack on to my back - I hadn't closed it, the food bag fell out. I groaned. What normally took seconds was taking 15 minutes. I put the food bag back. I closed the pack. I picked up my pad, uke, and poles and carried them. I couldn't buckle the hipbelt, I left it dangling, all the weight on my shoulders.I limped into the campsite, groaning with every step. "Sounds like a fellow camper," said a voice from inside a tent, cheerily. I dropped my pack on the ground. "I'm so sick," was all I could say. I dropped to the ground, on all fours, and put my head down. The camper came out of his tent. "Uh oh, this doesn't look good." I don't think he knew the extent of it yet. I tried to explain but I could barely talk. "Need help settin up your tent?" he asked. I said no, but I was really wondering whether I could do it. I hadn't yet got the energy to stand up. Another man came out of his tent. The first man was actually a doctor and felt my pulse. I was strangely slow, pounding and arthythmic. I vomited into the soil. "Do you want us to call 9-11?" They were worried now. "No," I said..."Wait." I didn't want to be rescued...not until it was clear that it definitely would get much worse instead of better. They setup my tent for me. I crawled into my sleeping bag. I was freezing. I looked at my thermometer - 65 degrees. I have a bag that keeps me warm down to 5 degrees. I was shivering uncontrollably. I vomited outside the tent. This time something came out...something bitter and acrid. I felt 25% better, instantly. It was the root I had eaten earlier in the day. I heard three beeps in the background. The doctor was calling 9-11. I told him to hang up, I was feeling better. Even my voice sounded better.This was the beginning of the end, I just kept trying to throw up until I got more of the root up. My first attempt at drinking water failed but I think it helped get more of it up. I eventually succeeded in getting water down and getting rehydrated (the guys left some iodine treated water in my tent for me). I eventually fell asleep. In the morning, amazingly, I felt fine.==============So that was my adventure yesterday...here is my actual entry from today:Had a surprisingly good day today - health and appetite seem to be back to normal.I took a nap in the afternoon to compensate for my lackof sleeping last night - that did me a lot of good.Still got 15 miles in.I met Vivian (fellow Canadian from Quebec) and Aaron, they are good, funny people, we had fun talking and making hot chocolate together tonight.Tired now...gotta sleep.