Date: 2012-04-19
From: Max Patch

To: Garenflo Gap
Miles today: 13.2

April 19, 13.2 miThe ostensible reason for my staying another night was the rain, but the truth is that I was still loath to show myself and engage with other people while I was still in what I considered to be a delicate state. I am naturally of a desultory nature, so I know that after my extended leaves of absence it is difficult for me to make it back to the society of people. I was to exchange isolation and comaraderie, one for the other, many times. It was close to noon that day but I was still getting organized. The sun had come out and there was no rain. I greeted a blonde girl I recognized walking with a bounding, happy dog. She was by the same stream where I'd gathered water yesterday. ¢Hello Yeti!¢ I called. ¢Where are you coming from today?¢¢A campsite just before Groundhog Creek shelter.¢¢Isn't that about seven miles from here?¢ I asked in disbelief. ¢That's right! I'm feeling good today, today is good. And I just got my dog back, she had a leg injury awhile ago and I was kinda bummed about that.¢ The dog was currently ripping up the steep side of the hill ahead through the leaves, its powerful stride kicking up dirt and small sticks. ¢She seems to be alright now!¢ I laughed. ¢He. And yes, I'm relieved. Of course I couldn't have him through the Smokies. They don't allow dogs in the Park. But he had problems way back in Georgia. He motivates my pace, so I feel back on track again now that he's better.¢That's good,¢ I said, happy that one more female hiker was out on the trail again. I don't quite understand the close relationship between people and their pets, how if their pet dies or something goes wrong the owner can feel greater depths of suffering than if a human family member had passed on. But dog people are more understandable than cat people. Yeti smiled and waved goodbye before advising me to get going soon. It was the motivation I needed to pack up quickly and head to the next shelter. Float had said it wasn't too far.0Into the woods to sell the cow-Into the woods to get the money-Into the woods to lift the spell-To make the potion-To go to the Festival-Into the woods to Grandmother's house...Into the woods to Grandmother's house...Into the woods,Then out of the woods,And home before dark! -CoinvoltaI finished penning my register entry and turned back to the two young men, the boys with dogs, occupying the small Roaring Fork Shelter. One of the dogs was a beautiful animal, a grey and white husky, who his owner Jonah had allowed to sniff about the shelter without a leash. The other dog, a close-haired golden lab, was tied on a generous leash from a wooden peg inside. She sat calmly beside Mud, the other shelter occupant who was getting quietly stoned. The huskey got into their lunch, a very common cheddar broccoli rice Pasta Side, and Jonah lifted him entirely off his four feet by the use of a back strap attached to the dog's harness.¢No!¢ Jonah told him in a drawn out, open ¢oh,¢ still holding the dog in mid air, his legs remaining perfectly straight and still. Only the dog's mouth moved, opened to pant and show his magnificent white teeth and healthy tongue. I walked closer and palmed the soft fur of his ears. ¢The ladies love him,¢ Jonah laughed. ¢And they were going to put him down, too.¢ By 'they' I inferred he meant the powers that be.¢Really!?¢¢Yep. I saved him. He was causing all sorts of chaos at the pound. You're looking at a dog who's jumped over fences, dug his way out beneath them too, even opened doors with his paws.¢¢I can see why that'd be inconvenient,¢ I said. ¢But kill him?¢¢Oh yeah.¢ Jonah leaned to the side and stretched out for his titanium pot, which served as a bowl for both he and Mud. He looked to me like the spikey-haired, wild Thom Yorke photo I'd seen on a copy of Rolling Stone years ago. His shock of golden hair was mussed up straight at odd angles about his head. His sharp, forward nose gave him the look of having a carnival mask on over his real skin, and his general comedic mien lent to this illusion. ¢Yeah, they were done with his ass. But I'd rather hike with him than, say, a girl.¢ His eyes darted out to me from beneath his blonde brow, making sure I wouldn't take offense. ¢There's no bitching and he's always ready to go.¢ At this Mud shook his head, laughing. He too looked my way through bloodshot eyes and I got the message of ¢That's fucked-up, man¢ without words. With all the smoke hazing under the roof, I could feel myself getting high just standing near. ¢What's your trail name mean?¢ I asked Jonah. He proceeded to tell a really long story, something to do with his Mom and car insurance, like a joke. But I didn't get it and now can't remember the particulars. They were biblical though. ¢So, why did you decide to hike the trail?¢ I asked either of them.¢Ha! Nothing better to do I guess,¢ said Jonah. ¢And it's cheaper to live out here than in society. And my folks were getting on me. My mom's real religious and eventually I couldn't stand it. So I picked up this fellow here, ordered my food in bulk over the internet, and left.¢ He finished rolling a cigarette, licked the edge with a pink, darting tongue, then lit it. He turned his eyes back on me as he puffed. I liked him. ¢But I'd nearly given up on this too. Some guy who put money on my card ¢ I did some work for him-¢ and with this he shifted his gaze away to the side, ¢took the money back off, without letting me know ahead of time or anything. So I was broke, done! But I came back after pawning basically everything I own.¢ I was impressed and told him so. ¢Yeah, I wasn't going to let that stop me. Besides, who wants to eat two cliff bars a day back in the real world? That's what I'd spent all my real money on, and they'd just keep coming. I mean, there's my food stamps, but still. Variety, people. Key.¢¢What are you going to do after this?¢ I was trying to get Mud to say something but he just shook his head and shrugged. ¢Shit, I'll probably keep going until I hit Canada,¢ Jonah continued. ¢Mud just told me about the Long Trail, which is an older part of the AT.¢¢That's the name of a really good IPA,¢ I remembered out loud. ¢I hiked the Long Trail in a hurricane,¢ Mud offered, looking up at me very gentle. Distracting, considering the content of what he'd said. ¢Really?¢ ¢Yeah. I was in Vermont last year when it hit, and they even got people out of there with helicopters it was starting to get so bad. But I avoided everyone and me and Kali here managed to survive. It was a lot of fun.¢¢Yeah, that sounds epic,¢ said Jonah. ¢Or maybe I'll do the Continental Divide Trail,¢ he continued, still ruminating on his future. ¢I've done parts of it, and I live in Colorado. So.¢¢I've heard you need ice picks,¢ I said. Mud passed the bowl to Jonah and he took a hit. ¢Yeah.¢ He exhaled a long channel of smoke. ¢But anything's better than being on the radar for me right now. I'm kind of in debt.¢¢You're not going to be able to do what you said,¢ Mud told Jonah with a vague smile. ¢Remember what you said?¢¢No, look: if I disappear for the next seven years, they can't call me on my medical bills. No cell phone conversations, nothing for the next seven years. It all goes back to zero.¢¢What?¢ This sounded like totally incorrect.¢I've looked into all of it, it's true!¢ Jonah handed the bowl up to me but I declined. I already felt stoned and this was to be my first attempt at hiking in five days. I told them as much. After a few more minutes I hoisted my pack back on and prepared to leave. ¢See you later,¢ Mud said, looking up at me like, Are you sure you want to leave? Staring at him, I vaguely wondered what he looked like without facial hair, but it was a nice beard which rounded out the lower half of his face. It was nice. I got lost trying to find my way out of there. The blue blaze trail I thought I'd come in on was probably the long-routed way to water or the privy. Backtracking and in front of the shelter again, I felt four pairs of peaceful eyes watching my progress.0The lower fields surrounding Max Patch were incredibly beautiful. I was glad to be on my way, and through such blooming scenery! ¢If only I'd gone a little further that day, I needn't have wasted four days feeling so depressed,¢ I thought to myself as I made my way through the farm. Rhododendron tunnelways and wet silk, dropping flowers of pink petelling the road. The AT meandered most of that morning through low-level fields and streams. I saw healthy, redcoated cows grazing just feet away from where I walked. Just passing through. When the sun finally came out, I gave myself a break in a grand level opening at the top of a hill. I could see where the trail led back into the trees and up, and I wanted to catch some sun while drying my down sleeping bag at the same time. ¢Never get a down bag wet ¢ ever!¢ is what everyone had told me, the salespeople at REI and fellow hikers both, but knowing me and my personal habits, combined with the tent I had to work with, perfection was unrealistic. So I did the best that I could while also giving in to my desire to be lazy. I lay out on my matt, just soaking up the strong sunshine. I raised myself on bronzed arms every once and awhile to fluff my bag which lay beside me in the prickly grass. To my surprise, this process worked pretty well. The toesack at the bottom still had a few matted clumps in it but the whole bag felt lighter. The purple surface was dried crispy and the bag hadn't lost much of its fluffiness. I'd been sure to rumble and puff it good, whenever I remembered to do so. I'd gotten a great tan and finished the third act of Comedy of Errors. Then I was on my way.