Date: 2010-03-08
To: Silent Night, Restless Night
Miles today: 0.0

My first night in the shelter is mostly what I expect and a number of factors contribute to a restless night of sleep. Aside from the anxiety, adrenaline and fatigue of newly tweaked muscles, the first is an 8:00p bedtime that falls 3 hours before my normal sleep cycle. In my sleeping bag I listen to my iPod (which I¢ve decided I will only use in the shelters) and try to be restful, blinking my eyes open and closed in attempt to determine if there¢s any difference in the level of blackness; I don't perceive any. There¢s another hiker sharing the loft space with me and a third downstairs; in the stillness every sound is magnified, in particular the nylon rustling sounds of people turning, moving, and trying to get comfortable in their sleeping bags. The tiniest movement initiates a whispering swish of sleeping bag and pad that is probably only noticeable in a black, silent void, but it just so happens that¢s where we are. These sounds don¢t really bother me but in the silence I notice them and, with the presence of strange company, I try to be mindful of my movements. Earlier in the day I take time to leaf through the hiker journal and read the entries of previous hikers, taking note of those that mention the more the permanent residents of this shelter ¢ the mice. I¢m aware that mice are common shelter inhabitants, present for the food scraps left behind by less careful hikers, but this foreknowledge brings little solace. I read somewhere that a dolphin sleeps with only half of their brain in a slumbering state, the other half remaining awake and semi-alert to danger. I believe I achieve this dolphin-like state as I lay there in the darkness, waiting and listening for the first sign of mice. In total darkness you have no sense of time so I¢m not sure how long I lay there before I hear the first tickety-tack of little feet but the alert side of my dolphin-brain notices immediately the sounds that seem to emanate from all directions at once as if a silent signal had been given among them. After a period of acclimation these noises bother me less.A final contributor to my restlessness is the unavoidable call of nature. Before climbing into my bag for the evening I make sure to heed nature¢s call but ere long the call is back. I begin to have my movie theater moment, trying to determine if this pressure is real or imagined and weather I might wait it out till the first light of morning. Getting up means not only the sound of a rustling sleeping bag but an unzipping, putting on a headlight, a fleece pullover, shoes, and climbing over 2 other hikers on the way out. As the pressure and anxiety mount I begin to wonder how long it is until first light. I tap the indiglo button on my watch to reveal that it¢s only 11:46p; with this knowledge there¢s no denying or avoiding the fact that I must get up for relief. I do so as quickly and stealthily as possible, stepping out into the freezing night air in my thermals to enjoy perhaps the most satisfying bladder-relieving moment of my recollection. It¢s now almost midnight as I return to my bag where I finally hit a sleep cycle that carries me until first light.