Date: 2003-07-15
From: Congden Shelter

To: US 9
Miles today: 4.3

tchy woke me up early, as usual. He was all packed, but waited patiently for me to gather my gear. "I was letting you sleep," he explained.This is progress!Though it was quite cold this morning, it was going to be warm today. As we walked, I filled Itchy in on what I remembered of the next 100 miles. Recalling last year's trek on the Long Trail, I told him about the firetower atop Glastonbury Mt., and how it might be possible to spend a night there under the bright, waning moon. Itchy loves a firetower about as much as I do.Before long, we came to the long rockwork "staircase;" the steep descent down to the gap where I would get off the Trail for a week, where our hiking partnership would come to an end. I crossed the road ahead of him and, before I could lose my solo hiking nerve, stuck my thumb out at a passing Subaru Forester. Good cars, those Foresters. I have one myself. Plenty of room for a pack. There were a lot of them running around Vermont, with their All-Wheel Drive.Against expectation, the red Subaru skidded to a stop. I had a ride! This was it - break up time with Itchy. I'd thought we'd have a minute or so to chat before I left. Now I was leaving. Just like that. The time was now.I hugged Itchy before he had a chance to think about it. Then we bonked knuckles and grunted, Marine-style, promising to keep in touch of each others' progress via Lupe and email.And then I stuffed my pack into the already-crammed Subaru and I was gone, waving. Itchy turned and trudged off toward the next slope, perhaps to sleep in the firetower. Godspeed, Itchy! It's funny. Regions favor certain cars. Down south, there were lots of pickups. NJ, NY, sedans. CT had flashier, pricier models, too small and clean for packs and hikers. Lots of cars passing by here in Vermont are Subarus. Many passing cars sport bike and canoe racks. Ian, my fellow Subaru owner, is pleasant, a former Long Trail hut caretaker. He understood what it was like to be afoot in a wheeled world, and made a point of picking up hikers.As usual, hot coffee and food took precedence in town. Ian dropped me at a downtown coffee shop. I ordered the house blend and far too many buttery croissants for a non-hiking gal, then took my bounty to a table on the sidewalk. A woman at a nearby table exchanged smiles with me. She was dandling a baby on her lap. "How far are you hiking from?"I never get tired of their reaction when I say "Georgia."She sucked in her breath, and thought about that. "You're not afraid?" she finally asked."Oh, A LOT!" I answer. I have in mind just last night, at the thought of more night hiking in the dark, rooty Vermont woods. Or this morning, at the thought of hitching alone."I'm just not letting it stop me," I tell her. Unless my gut interjects an opinion. Then, I pay attention. Maybe come up with a different plan. It is very liberating to start to learn the difference between head fear (a constant nag) and gut fear. The head will always stop you before you get started. The gut won't. But when it pipes up...All this is very easy to say in daylight, in retrospective, by the way!;-)I spent the rest of the day at the Bennington Free Library, researching several items of interest. The nazi librarian kept flushing me despite some empty terminals, none too pleasantly, and gave others there a similar hard time. The rules permitted me to re-log on, which she appeared to hate mightily.She probably needed a long hike. I believe it is everyone's moral obligation to become happy, centered people, or at least neutral. The unhappy, insecure monster in ALL OF US sets about busily bringing everybody else down to the lowest energy level. There are agendas. Our will must prevail. Once the abused, our inner "monsters" often readily become abusers. The old "kick the dog" syndrome.It is a miracle worth celebrating when somebody breaks the chain and resolves their own life. It's true what they say - to change the world, change yourself. The ripples spread out like a stone dropped in the water.Right at 5 pm, good as his word, Cosmo picks me and my pack up at the VT library and drives me back to his place in MA. On the way, he points to ridges and peaks, showing me what I have walked. It always looks so impressive from the flatlands.I meet Cosmo's wife, son, and dog, and am stuffed with pizza. We sit on the deck and watch the finches, robins and hummingbirds cavort in the sinking sun. Thanks to Catalano generosity, I get showered and laundered and a real bed to sleep in.The transition from hiker to normal citizen is beginning.I am thinking this means no more snot rockets for awhile.