Date: 2009-05-30
From: Old Orchard Shelter

To: Wild camp south of Fork Holston River
Miles today: 17.0

A group of scouts that rolled in last night were being a bit noisy this morning and so, after breaking camp and a quick wardrobe change, I wasted no time in getting back out onto the Trail.Sartorially I was now sporting my favoured ¢business casual¢ look, having changed into an old work shirt (¢mi camista bonita azul¢ of previous Spanish hikes) and my long trousers (complete with double pleats).People complain about the rain (and it does rain) but, by and large, the rain is a passing inconvenience while the heat, sun and bugs provide much more constant discomforts. The heat, sun and bugs are why I am so fond of my shirt and trousers, providing shade from the sun and an obstacle between the bugs and me.In fairness the bugs haven¢t been too bad so far but the gnats (dim as they are) can take irritating chunks out of you when you¢re looking the other way. Not too bad at eth time but they do become agonisingly itchy every night once I climb into my sleeping bag.Most days I might get a couple of new bites replacing previous ones that are now, thankfully, fading away. However, some days I get more, much more, and those are invariably the days when I¢m wearing t-shirts and shorts. Short breaks can easily be rendered intolerable and be cut sadly short at these times, as it only needs a handful of bugs to send you running for the hills.So for me it¢s a no brainer, I value my rest stops above all else. Covering up is a small price to pay. Besides, I kind of like the ¢back to basics¢ approach. Cocking a snoot at the marketing men, and the herd, mentality that there is a perfect solution to be purchased in our consumer obsessed society. The belief that merely by spending money the trials and tribulations and hardships that make the AT a worthwhile challenge in the first place can be eliminated.I get a buzz out of challenging the conventional wisdom: proving that there are any number of different ways that this thing can be done, testing my sometimes crazy hypothesis, even out of proving myself wrong. I could also pretend that I¢m environmentally motivated, making do with what I already have, eeking a few more days out of items that would otherwise by now have been discarded, but really I¢m just cheap and tight-fisted.The miles had come remarkable easily yesterday and I had arrived at my originally planned destination by 2.30pm. Normally this would be too early to call it a day but there are considerations other than time; namely how extra miles today might affect tomorrow pr the general bigger picture. Sometimes doing more miles today will simply leave the dilemma of choosing between a ¢too short¢ day or a ¢too long¢ day tomorrow. This is perhaps based on known campsites/shelters, anticipated terrain, proximity to town, my desire to avoid Partnership shelter ¢ that sort of thing.Yesterday when considering these factors extra miles didn¢t help much but it really was way too early to stop. I certainly didn¢t just want to hang around a shelter all afternoon. Instead, despite myself, I would donder on a little further, maybe an hour, two at most. I would take my time. Hopefully finding a quiet spot in the woods where I could wile away my idleness in peace.My mind made up, I was just about to head out when the first of what would become a steady stream of hikers (who had all popped into town for lunch/resupply) started to troop in. It turned into a pleasant afternoon and nobody seemed in any particular hurry, with relaxed and enjoyable chit-chat becoming the order of the day. Each time I was about to leave someone new would arrive ¢ the Texans, Nordic, SNP, Pete. Conversation (and time) rolled on. By now it was 4.30pm and I could actually have stayed but I was committed to plan ¢A¢ and in an apparent lull between new arrivals I managed to make my escape.Peter had decided to join me for this little camping trip ¢ apparently happier about his prospects of a night spent under canvas or perhaps just hopeful that the weather, which had been glorious all day would continue to be king to him. If the latter was, in fact, the case then his hopes were soon to be dashed.We had had a good evening; lounging around and chatting. Peter has set his tarp up in a rather natty manner, resplendent with a sort of porch thing. All seemed well as we finally retired for the night. However, things took a significant turn for the worse. At 3am I was rudely and unexpectedly roused from slumber by the heavy drumming of raindrops against the walls of my tent, the rumble of not too distant thunder and illuminating flashes of lightening. I strained to hear if I could discern any sounds of panic or discomfort from my nearby friend but the noise of the rain drowned everything out. The question was if it was drowning Pete?I popped my head out to see if he was coping, to offer moral support and ,if things were getting uncomfortable, to offer what practical support I could. When I asked how he was I received the short, disembodied, sanguine, somewhat humorous and very understated response ¢it¢s raining¢ followed by a resigned chortle. Indeed.It appeared he wasn¢t awash just yet so I told him to give me a shout if things got crazy and did the only thing I could in the circumstances ¢ rolled over, returned to the land of nod and enjoyed more of the frequent and predictable bizarre dreams that are common place out here.The night passed and when I rose I found Pete in fine fettle, surprisingly dry and mildly amused about an unfortunate incident involving my bear bagging rope. (Oh how we laughed).