Date: 2013-07-25
From: Breezy Point Inn, Greenwood Lake, NY

To: Stealth camp below view
Miles today: 13.7

I slept terribly last night. My mind was racing. I thought about Tom coming home and if I would have time to finish the hike. I woke up at 5:45. I was exhausted, but I felt that I needed to get up and get moving. I haven't been getting in the miles I'd like to, and it's starting to make me nervous. So I got up and got packed. It was really cool, bordering on cold. It was still, and the lake was flat and silver. The only beings stirring were a few little birds hopping around on their reedy little legs. I got dressed and then crawled back in bed. Twenty more minutes. I hefted the heavy, full-of-maildrop, pack on my back and I hiked the .6 back into town. I passed a hiker coming in the other direction. He had been in the room next to last night. He was in dire need of coffee and walked all the way into town to get his caffeine fix. That's devotion. It was a cool walk into town, and I wore my rainjacket for the first time since I bought it 400 miles ago in Luray. I stopped by the hardware store to see if I could get some fuel for my stove, but they only had quart-sized jugs. I saw a caf© up the street and stopped in for a second breakfast. I had a piece of quiche and coffee. I saw Braindamage and Big Spoon. They had stealth camped in the baseball park. I admired their tenacity. I headed to the post office to mail some stuff home, and as a side thought, I asked about a package that hadn't arrived. They had it. Sweet! Once less maildrop to have to worry about. I headed back up the steep hill, but it was so cool out that I'd barely broken a sweat when I got to the top. I headed down the trail a few miles to the next road crossing. It was only 10:45, but there was a hot dog stand right there. I waited the 15 minutes for the guy to set out his "open" flag. I don't think he was too keen to get going, but I was there, and I was eager. I got two chili cheese hot dogs, a bag of chips and a drink. I ate it all with no problem whatsoever. Three meals in 5 hours. Not bad. Back on the trail, I passed three day hikers from New Jersey. I could hear them bickering amongst themselves, but they didn't see me. And then suddenly I was there. We chatted for a bit. They told me I had some rock scrambles coming up, but there were bypass options.... Hmmmmm.... I was tempting. But ultimately, I sucked it up and played along. I rock scrambled. I just couldn't allow myself to flake out. I feel like all these rock scrambles, especially the ones that elicit the most bitching, are preparing me for Vermont and New Hampshire. They were tough, and there were many opportunities to fall off high ledges, but I did it. And I kind of enjoyed myself. I stopped by Wildcat Shelter to use the privy and to donate a pint of blood to local mosquito populations. The mosquitoes and gnats are back. Thank goodness for the head net. I'm in one of the most stylish states in the nation, and yet here I am in my mouse eaten shirt and a head net. Nice. I passed two SOBOers, and they told me about a large, angry hornet's nest. It was in the middle of the trail up ahead. I steered steeply uphill, making a big arc and then making my way back down to the trail. Right in front of the nest. Shit. It looked just like a big, smooth, rounded grey stone. I headed back up hill. I wrote a note warning other SOBOers of the hive, and I pinned it underneath a stone. Getting stung by hornets sucks. I passed by Fitzgerald Falls, the first waterfall I've seen in hundreds of miles. It's funny, down south you see these things all the time, but I hadn't realized they were missing until I saw another one. There was a young couple with two little ones, each clinging to a parents' hand. One of the little ones saw me and exclaimed, "Look, Daddy! A climber!" I chuckled, I've certainly felt more like a climber than a hiker as of late. At the top of the hill was a bright blue box. Inside was a small notebook. I pulled it out and thumbed through the pages. There were trail names and dates, and I was surprised to see how closely behind everyone I was. I felt like I had been moving along at a snail's pace. But then you remember that we're all crawling over the same piles of rocks. I guess I wasn't the only one struggling. A funny thing happened. I was crawling through a pile of rocks, and my left foot got so wedged between two rocks that I couldn't get it out. I was happy that I was going so slow, because it could have seriously hurt my knee, especially given the excessive weight of my pack. I twisted and turned, trying to get my foot unpinned. Finally, I took my pack off, and carefully unlaced my boot so I could pull my foot out. Even then, I had twist and pinch the boot to get it out of the crack. About thirty minutes later, I was crawling up some roots, and my foot punched the dirt out between the roots and jammed down into a hole with an angled rock. Again, with a little more speed and angled momentum, my leg could have very well been broken. I send a thank you out to the Universe and the army of guardian angels that look out for me.The trail went over some marshes with boardwalks. I really like these. 1) They are flat. 2) I love looking at the water bugs, fish, etc. I can never shake the feeling that there are alligators in there somewhere. I skirted Little Dam Lake, and it was one of the most beautiful lakes I've seen in a while. There were fire red flowers on tall reedy stems. The water was clear, but coppery with tannins. There were tall pines, and under them, perfect camping spots. Too bad it was so early in the day still. The area wasn't terribly well marked, so I went off trail several times, but it gave me an opportunity to explore the lake side like I wouldn't have otherwise. I came upon some milk jugs filled with fresh water. I topped off my water reservoir. Fresh water is not to be passed up. I passed a few more steep descenting rock scrambles, complete with tree blow downs that required me to do the limbo. It seemed that it took 4 miles worth of energy just to go the 150 feet. For the last two miles, I could feel my engine was running on empty. I stopped to eat blueberries, but that didn't do much. My knees were screaming, and my thighs felt like heavy logs. I knew I wasn't going to make my goal (Island Pond). Instead I stopped at a flattish spot just below a view point on Arden Mountain. A friend of mine has an adorable daughter named Arden, so it felt right. The campsite leaves much to be desired. There's the roar of the traffic below, and my tent is at a noticeable slant. My food tumped over while I was cooking it. And I saw that someone left me a nasty note on TJ (but many more people have left supportive notes- THANK YOU!). But even with all that, I'm still in remarkably good spirits this evening. Tomorrow is Lemon Squeezer day. And I'm actually looking forward to it. But now, sleep.