Date: 2003-06-10
From: Haystack Creek

To: 501 Shelter
Miles today: 16.5
Weather: few clouds

Today was a day of signs. Let me explain.Started the day early, camped on the side of Haystack Creek, with BobMikeBob. Broke camp before they had their hammocks down.First six miles of the day went extremely fast, which was good, since I was aspiring to do 23 today. Yesterday I also had aspired to do big miles, and had fallen short. The reason for the miles? Lucky, Bean and Wizard did 35 miles yesterday. So began yet another day of catch-up.Forded my first stream, just beyond where I'd planned to camp yesterday. Got to a place where the trail ended into a plank into the water. So off came the shoes, tied to my pack, and I undid my buckles and shouldered the weight as I'd been taught. It was damn cold and damn fast water, but I felt pretty good afterwards.That was not one of the signs.A little ways on, I came across some already-gone trail magic. An empty styrofoam cooler and a bag of soda cans next to it. On the cooler, the angels (ex-thru-hikers) had written messages. One was, "Katahdin is closer than you think." I read: It'll be over soon enough. Slow down. Enjoy. Sign number one.Crossed some fields and through a wood and came out on a road that led under route eighty-one. There I followed the road when I should have turned, I passed a salvage yard and a few rickety houses plastered with 'no trespassing' signs, but it wasn't until a pretty ferocious mutt charged out of his yard to the road that I realized I wasn't in Kansas...err...on the AT anymore. So I froze, gripped my poles, got ready to use them as this dog stood feet away, snarling at every half-move I made. I stepped forward, he growled, backwards, the same. But then I heard its owner yelling from the house. She came out to the porch then ran back to put pants on, and came out agan. A few minutes later, the creature was at bay. She told me where I could pick up the trail again, but when I followed her directions, I realized that I'd skipped a chunk of trail. So I went down the half-mile, hundred foot climb and redid it via the AT. An hour later, I was back on track.Sign two: I was set back an hour now fom my catch-up miles.Continued on. The rest of the day was ridgewalking, some parts rocky, some not. Enough rocks to make the tootsies yelp, though. At one point, up on the ridge, I saw shadows passing over the tree leaves and canopy, so I stopped to watch. I knew from the guide that we were near hawk mountain, and that at certain months of the year, a person could watch the migrations of all sorts of birds of prey. But I also knew that we weren't in those months. There were four raptors I watched gliding above me; I caught glimpses through the holes in the upper canopy. Their moement seems graceful and easy, until you watch for a while. Then you can see the muscles move--it's like watching a tightrope walker, they're tensed, keeping their balance. And just when I was almost ready to go, to keep on my way, they all swooped to one side, and then six of them-- I counted-- went flying overhead. Not in formation, of course, but in proximity, in the same direction. It was great. Sights like that are the reason to slow down. Sign three.So to hell with the catch-up game. I've been playing it since Shenandoah.And it seems this decision is already rewarding me. I ran into a section hiker who camped with everyone I was trying to catch up with last night: he said there were twenty at this shelter last night. No way in hell I want to catch up to that many people, just to fight for shelter space when it rains. And after a sensible, comfortable sixteen miles today, we reached the 501 Shelter, where we could order pizza. Burger and salad for dinner tonight, stromboli for breakfast.