Date: 2009-07-17
From: Kent, CT

To: Caesar Brook Campsite
Miles today: 13.6
Weather: overcast clouds

July 17--A foggy early morning gave way to a warm, humid mid morning and I was packed and checked out by 10:10 after trying to reach Black Diamond on CDT, no luck. I walked through town on US7 to CT341 past the Kent School, 1906, to pick up the trail through a stile and into an active cow pasture and began to climb, full pack, which before long caused me to begin sweating profusely in the humid air. On the final steep descent, just before a long, flat section of trail, I came upon a group of rapellers, rock climbers, 3 adults instructing about eight kids, 11-12 yrs, boys/girls my guess, with whom I stopped to chat. Three of the boys were very interested in my journey, listening and inquiring with amazment. One thoughtful boy offered me a chance to try the ropes, explaining how I might borrow the proper equipment. I spoke with the enthused girl, adult, about hiking, etc as she guided Jackie along the almost straight up rock face. I was concerned about not making it to Cornwall Bridge PO by 17:00 and pushed on until a flat 4 mile section along the Housatonic River where I tried to pick up the pace on the road/dirt path. By now my clothes were soaked in sweat and I felt chafing in both inner thighs that concerned me to the point where I stopped at a stream, removed my shorts and rinsed them thoroughly, followed by the shirt, which provided some relief. The threat of rain was upon me as I climbed Silver Hill and approached CT4 which would take me 0.9m to the Cornwall Bridge PO. I flagged the 2nd car who delivered me there at 16:00. I swapped my boots for the repaired Columbias, after keeping the new inserts, and swapped my sleeping bags. A customer at the PO offered me a ride back which I accepted until I stepped outside in the steady, light rain when I decided make my way over to Baird's General Store for a ham and provolone, and coffee which I ate on the porch while chatting with the deli guy. By then the rain had stopped and I began walking back up CT4, my chafed legs warming me every step of the way, and soon I was back in the woods. Before long I came upon Guinea Brook, described in the Companion as "the AMC members installed stepping stones, but in heavy rain you may want to take the road". Stepping stones? They must've been washed away, this was a raging brook. As I arrived at the bank I saw two hikers begin to ford the brook, first the girl in running shoes followed by the guy, knee deep in boots. The stubborn me said no going back and I searched for alternates, a couple of old, large hemlocks had fallen across and no rock crossing could be found. Walking on the slippery logs was not an option, but scooching along, pack and all was, esp since earlier I had slipped on muddy roots and landed on my seat which left my shorts muddy. I slowly made my way across my log, bouncing gently on the bark stripped middle whilst digging my finger tips deep into the soft rotting wood. Finally on the other side, I landed on a huge rock, made my way down to the ground and began assessing my climb up the steep bank when I felt a sting on my left shin, then right shin and looking down in the dull light I saw an object that I thought was a thorn, but was, of course, a hornet, a yellow jacket, then one got me on the left forearm and two more, one on each thigh, under my shorts and I scrambled up the bank like a shot at deer, while more buzzed around my head. The only reaction was a slight swelling and a tiny blood dot, but my desires strongly turned to find the Caesar Brook Campsite where I am comfortably in my tent, removing my boots and clothes, and laying out for a good sleep.