Date: 2015-05-15
From: Trout Creek

To: Campbell Shelter
Miles today: 18.3
Weather: light rain

Don't worry! Red Panda RawHeels lives on. I have survived cold nights, wrecked feet, and thunder showers and lived to tell the tale. And I did learn how to tie a heel lock runner's knot. My feet still slip. Liberal amounts of duct tape have been applied to my heels and the original insoles placed back in my shoes, which has helped at least a little.Also I keep forgetting to mention that my mystery blister-hands affliction has been clearing up nicely. I only look like a leper now. The blisters have all dried, the dead skin cracking away to expose nice, new, shiny pink skin underneath.I was so tired last night that I didn't journal at all, besides my angry bird message. I hiked 27 miles because I am an idiot, hahaha. My feet are wrecked. This is not without some benefits, though.I woke up cold at 4 a.m. again (I don't know what it is about 4 a.m.). So I got up later, waiting until it warmed a bit before slithering out of my sleeping bag. I really thought the cold was over. OF COURSE I was wrong. It really wasn't that bad, though. I have pants and my awesome jacket.So I got up, and packed up my 383929 tons of junk. I swear, you wouldn't think I have that much stuff, especially since it all has to fit in Bertha. It gets so messy and scattered, though. I still really hate packing and unpacking. After cramming my stuff away, I hit the trail! I stopped at Laurel Creek Shelter to fill up on water and chatted with Treebeard, who was still in his sleeping bag, avoiding the cold. He was planning to go into Newport to pick up new shoes, and was worried about a possible stress fracture. I am so glad I have escaped serious injury so far. Especially since I am basically asking for it at my breakneck pace.I stamped the register, and noticed that someone had left a copy of The Giver in the shelter. People do this - leave books they finish so they don't have to carry them, and so someone else might enjoy them. I LOVE THIS BOOK. Mom and I went to see the movie at the Gilson. I have the digital copy on my tablet, but there is something special about having a physical copy, so I took it with me. I will probably never have time to read it, but it is like a prize anyway.Aftrt acquiring my awesome book, I wandered down to the creek, filled up my water bottles, and got confused about how to get back on the trail. Apparently I had never gotten off.I skipped the next shelter, since it was 0.4 miles off the trail and I didn't need water, and had no other reason to stop. I was thoroughly enjoying hiking alone, especially after having almost too much social interaction for days. I had liked talking to Sean, but had also kind of gotten sick of him after a while. I just like hiking alone, thinking alone, enjoying the trail alone sometimes.So hiking the trail and enjoying the woods and the sun and the breeze, unadulterated by voices, made my heart light.I enjoyed a nice descent to Niday Shelter, arriving at 2:30 p.m. I stamped the register and saw that Chris had stopped there for lunch.For some reason I was under the impression that the next shelter was only 6 miles away. I was wrong. It was 10. And the next water source was only 1.5 miles before the shelter. I felt really stupid. Oh well. I didn't really have a choice. I hiked on, into the wildernesses!And OF COURSE there was a climb up Brush Mountain before the descent to Trout Creek, my intended camping spot. It wasn't horribly steep most of the time, but god it was long. And I was already tired. By the time I got to the top, I was hobbling and limping and swapped out to my camp shoes for the slow, slow, painful downhill crawl, praying the meatloaves attached to my ankles wouldn't fall apart before I got to the bottom of the hill.My feet have grown in size. Callouses, swelling, I have no idea. But my camp shoes don't fit well anymore. They are 9s, and I could barely get the new 9 1/2s mom and Dan brought me on my feet. Luckily they can return them (thanks, guys!).Anyway, after the long and painful descent with my big fat chubby toes, there was NO WAY I would make it the next mile and a half to the shelter. It was uphill. I can't do uphill well in the morning, let alone at 6 p.m. after a 27-mile day.However, making it to Trout Creek meant that I had, somewhat inadvertently (okay, I admit, I was kind of trying) reached a new AT personal record: over 100 miles in 4 days. That is totally awesome. Like, really freaking awesome. It was SUCH a terrible idea in ill-fitting blister shoes, but now I have bragging rights, a cool story to tell, and am excuse to eat more pizza.So I was dumb. I promise I don't plan to do it again any time soon.When I finally trudged up to Trout Creek, I pitched my little tent and tripped over the stakes with my poor sore feet about ten gazillion times. I did my chores and cooked dinner even though I would rather have just eaten snacks rather than put the effort into cooking and cleaning my stove. If I hadn't, I probably would have run out of snacks before I reached town.And I was so exhausted... but couldn't sleep. I don't know if it was because I was hungry, or thirsty, or if my feet just hurt that much. At 11 p.m., I angrily got up, stalked out of my tent, let down my bear bag, and ate a CLIF bar, hoping that it might settle my body down. It actually helped. If course I had to pee multiple times during the night, too, and got up to dig a hole TWICE. Trail food is killing my digestive system. My TP store was starting to run dangerously low. Not good.Eventually I just got up, and slowly, tiredly packed up my stuff. I headed up the hill to the shelter. It was 0.3 miles from the trail. I cursed myself for not filling up on water at the creek as I climbed an additional 0.2 miles steeply downhill to fill my bottles. It sucked. I did meet a very friendly and energeric lady named Neon on the way back up. She was indeed wearing a lot of neon clothing.And my feet hurt all day. Especially with the rocks. But, Dragon's tooth was awesome. Like, really awesome, both the view and the climb. The climb required hands as well as feet, and more than a couple steel rungs to aid climbing. I struggled not to impale myself with my trekking poles a few times.I caught up with Chris around lunch time. I had let him know I was only a few miles behind him the night before, and knew he wasn't far ahead of me as I was climbing Dragon's Tooth. He got off the trail to pick up a mail drop at a nearby hostel. I waited for him by the trail's intersection with the road, taking off my shoes, sitting and relaxing in the shade. My feet needed the break.And then he showed up. He brought me a COLD lemomade and candy from the hostel. It has been so ridiculously hot lately, I just about died of happiness. I hadn't had anything delicious and cold to drink in days. Stream water can be cold, yes, but it just isn't the same.We discussed our plans to head into Daleville, both having mail to pick up before 6 p.m. the next day, since the outfitter would be closed on Sunday. He agreed to hike very slowly with me since my feet were killing me (I learned my lesson, don't worry), and he told me he was suffering from blisters of his own.So on we went, planning to stop at the shelter after McAfee Knob. This meant we would have less than 16 miles to hike into Daleville the next day. It also meant a big climb at the end of the day, but McAfee Knob is amazing so I didn't even mind. We set out soon after the decision was made, hoping to make it to our goal shelter before the forecasted afternoon thunderstorms hit.We passed a ton of day hikers, and a strange group of Germans (also day hikers) on the trail. We paused at a shelter for a snack and to fill up on water. We put on our pack covers, just in case of rain. And then, headed into the climb!It actually wasn't too bad. I mean, my feet hurt, but it wasn't horribly steep. There were lots of Eagle Scout project boardwalks over steep rock sections, I imagine because it is such a popular hike up to the knob.As we crossed under some power lines, we got a view of the sky and tried to gauge the possibility of rain. There were some threatening-looking clouds, but they weren't too gray."It might break up." Chris said optimistically. I wasn't so sure. A few minutes later, the breeze picked up and droplets started falling. I slung Bertha onto the ground and put away my phone and camera. Just in time, too.We made the rest of the climb in the pouring rain. I didn't even bother to take out my umbrella, we were hiking so fast, and I was already soaked in sweat and disgusting. The rain was cold but wonderful, giving me chills as it washed off of my pack cover and down my back. The shower didn't last long, but as we climbed we had to dodge day hikers sprinting down the mountain towards their cars. I have no idea why, they were already soaked. It wasn't like they could outrun the rain. We laughed and continued on, eager to finish the climb.And as we reached the knob, the rain stopped. The sun started peeking out from behind the clouds. The view cleared, and it was amazing.AND YOU KNOW WHAT?! IT WAS A GOOD THING I HIKED A BAZILLION MILES FAST ENOUGH TO CATCH UP TO CHRIS. Otherwise I wouldn't have an awesome picture to prove I was there. It was terrifying to sit on the edge, but so wonderful and freaking amazing and exhilarating. I mean, look at that picture. I am SO LUCKY.We enjoyed the view for a while and then headed to the shelter, where I basically sat around doing nothing for hours because I was so tired. I did collect water and soak my feet in the stream, accidentally popping a toe blister when I peeled off some moleskin (ouch).A trio of Australian women arrived to share the shelter, a mother and her two daughters hiking together. Chris was familiar with them, but I hadn't met them before. They were hilarious. I complimented them on their matching sleeping pads, and they told me how they had researched their gear, and the mother came to the states to buy a lot of it because it is so much cheaper here.Then Neon (who I met while getting my morning water) arrived, waving around a huge roll of toilet paper, telling us how nice and soft it was. She had too much and offered to share. Hallelujah! Thank you, bizarre trail magic. I now had enough to make it safely to town.It was actually weird being around so many women! Usually on the trail I am outnumbered by men. This has never really bothered me, but was a nice change to have girls to talk to.I slept in the shelter with the Aussie Legs (as they are collectively called), happy to wake up the next morning to the breeze blowing through the trees and the sun rising before me.I am grateful for the AT. I am grateful for cold drinks and new friends, and for old new friends who don't drive me crazy to hike with. I am thankful I still have all of my vienna sausage toes and miles and miles of trail still left to travel.