Date: 2004-08-11
From: Near Hydroelectric Plant in Connecticut

To: Momentary Disbelief
Miles today: 13.6

Last night a thunder storm and rain passed over the area. In anticipation of that disturbance, I had placed most of my hiking gear under the tarp and hammock where it would remain dry. I had left my wooden hiking stick on the ground.This morning, the stick was predictably wet when I bent over to pick it up. But it felt unpredictably slimy when my hand grasped it. The stick was covered with slugs. There were big slugs, tiny slugs, dark ones and light ones crawling along the stick. I dropped the stick and wiped my hand with a bandana. Then I used a smaller stick to scrape the slimy creatures off of the walking stick. For me, the term "slugfest" will henceforth mean more than a baseball game with lots of home runs.During the morning, the trail passed through some beautiful stretches of evergreen forests. A mist in the air added a haunting ambiance to the scenes.I reached a road and hiked into the town of Salisbury, CT to resupply. Minutes later, Gather arrived in town. Two days ago, we had planned to share the cost of a room in this town, but we had since changed our mind. Like the town of Kent, the price at an inn here in Salisbury was too expensive.I purchased food for two days of hiking. At the post office, I picked up my drift box. It contained a portable beard trimmer. The problem I faced was finding a mirror. I went to the town hall and trimmed my beard in a bathroom.I had some phone calls to make at an outdoor pay phone. It began to rain heavily when I made the first call. I ducked into the library and checked my e-mail during the downpour.It was drizzling as I hiked back into the woods. My destination was a shelter five miles away near the border of Massachusetts.Along the way, I ascended a mountain called Lion's Head. An overlook provided me with a view of Race Mountain, Mount Everett, and The Jug End, highpoints in Massachusetts that I have climbed in the past. I swelled with anticipation knowing that I would soon be entering my home state.I stopped by a shelter that was located about a mile before another shelter¢my destination. Baloo was occupying the place along with some local hikers. We chatted briefly and I moved on.Minutes later, two individuals walking southbound approached. The person in the front was wearing a baseball cap and glasses. The other person's head was covered by a hood. If I recall correctly, they were not carrying large packs. The person in front was staring at me with a bemused expression, as though something had happened and he was waiting for me to react or say something. For a moment, I had a sense that there was something odd about this guy¢a stranger¢looking at me with such an expression late in the day on a wet trail. I stopped dead in my tracks and stared back at them. My brain took a few seconds to process what, or who, I was looking at."Paul?" I said with disbelief. "Nick?"On this rain soaked trail in Connecticut, I was looking at Paul Kapteyn, a close friend from my home in Massachusetts, and his teenage son Nick. We approached each other and joyfully embraced. What a great moment!Paul had been reading my trail journal. He had calculated my daily mileage from entries posted back in New Jersey. He estimated that on this day, I would be hiking in Connecticut where the Appalachian Trail approaches Massachusetts. His calculation¢or gamble¢was right on the money. Before we met, he had stopped in at a few shelters and asked hikers, including Gather, if they knew of my whereabouts. They had informed him that I was nearby.Still in a state of shock, I followed Paul and Nick down a spur trail to their car. We drove into Massachusetts where they were car camping by a pond. At their campsite, I strung up my hammock as Paul cooked us up a steak dinner. Our reunion was a perfect way to commemorate my arrival in Massachusetts.