Date: 2004-05-24
From: Wilson Creek Shelter

To: Jennings Creek
Miles today: 16.8

noon: Frank Sinatra tunes in my head today -- "Under My Skin" (as in bugbites), "Fly Me To The Moon" -- and Ella singing Cole Porter -- "Let's Fall in Love" (as in "Birds do it, bees do it, even educated fleas do it...") and "A Foggy Day."Also am singing the "A.T. Hiker Blues" today:Well I got up this morningAnd I put on my bootsGot on the trailJust to trip over all them roots.And now the chorus:I got the A.T. Hiker Blues.I got the blues.I got them mean old gnarly rottenA.T. Hiker blues.Well I went to get waterTo fill my NalgeneBut that old spring sourceWas looking might green,I got the A.T. Hiker Blues.I got the blues.I got them nasty, green and slimyA.T. Hiker Blues.Gonna cook me some dinner,With my alcohol stove,But when I try to light it,The whole damn thing explodes.I got the blues.I got them A.T. Hiker Blues.I got those burnt-ring-on-the-picnic-tableA.T. Hiker Blues.Well I got into camp.I set up my tent.It's soggy and smelly,But hey, I ain't payin' any rent!Still, I got the blues.I got the blues.I got those damp and moldy mean oldSoggy hiker blues.Thought I got me some rampsTo add to my RamenBut I picked lily-of-the-valleyAnd those two got nothing in common!I got the blues. I got the blues.I got those poisonous trail greensA.T. hiker blues.I finished my dinnerZipped into my bivvyBut in just a few seconds I was making a beeline for the privy!I got those trail green blues,I got the blues.I got those no-TP-in-the-privyA.T. Hiker Blues.Well I'm stinky and grimyI smell like a skunkBut darlin I tell youI'm getting used to this funk.I got the smelly hiker blues...etc.-------Okay, so I'm no Muddy Waters. Anyway, that's what I do all day while I'm hiking.9 p.m. Our campsite this evening looks like a Hooverville -- hobo central. We got some beer and snacks from the "Wonderful Life Camp Store" and sat around teh stone fire circle (no fire) cooking our individual hot pot meals and ribbing each other. Riva Queen has dubbed me "Betty Crocker" because my alcohol stove is a danger to all when I start to cook.Had a great swim in the creek after the hike -- still hot and sunny. Watched a snake swim through the water on its way downstream.Called my parents from the store and felt as if I were calling home from camp! It does feel like camp on the good days... I'm having so much fun. It's a bizarre pastime -- requiring endurance, strength, a certain level of fitness and speed -- but still a pastime. What motivates any of us to do this? It feels like a chase at times, to beat winter, to keep up with others. At other times it feels like a quest -- for self-discovery, respect, beauty, approval... In the mean time, I like the people I'm meeting. I like the daily activity of just walking, eating, fetching water, pitching and breaking down camp, and sharing fellowship with others who do the same.My lunch routine lately involves: fetching and treating water from a spring or stream, using the privy (if there is one), cleaning my hands (Purell and/or babywipes), doing a foot check and doctoring my wounds, preparing lunch, then putting my boots back on before hitting the trail again. It's not a rest so much as a pitstop on a racetrack.Quotation of the night from Tree Frog: "Those whipoorwills...They sure don't know when to stop, do they?"Trail magic today at one of the Blue Ridge Parkway road crossings. Fanta and Rice Crispie Treats -- it got me through a long stretch of trail that was devoid of water sources. Thanks angel! It's also been a treat to have garbage cans at nearly every road crossing. I've never been so excited to see trash cans as I have along the A.T., especially since I'm often packing out not only my own trash, but also that of thoughtless dayhikers (What are they thinking? I mean, really! That we have maid service out there?) -- orange peels, tuna envelopes, aluminum cans, plastic bottles, plastic wrappers and bags. Often they throw them in the firepit, as if the firepit will magically digest them. Silly people.