Date: 2012-03-25
From: Gooch Mountain Shelter

To: Bird Gap
Miles today: 12.3

March 25, 12.3 miI got caught dancing up Big Cedar Mountain to Chromeo's ¢Fancy Footwork.¢ How embarrassing...Woods Hole Shelter was already occupied by a black-bearded man, his daughter, and their large tent, so I set up my own (symbol of freedom though piece of shit it may be) outside next to the thick stone wall of the shelter. There was room enough in my tent for me to stretch stretch out my legs and house my 60 liter pack as well ¢ as long as I lay on the diagonal.Scott, the man, threw a ¢bear bag¢ line up the limb of a distant tree because he'd read multiple warnings about bears in the register. I was too lazy to do the same or to pay attention to his technique. In five months of hiking and living in the woods, I never threw a single bear bag.I almost set the shelter on fire trying to cook dinner with a homemade soda can stove and alcohol for fuel. Darwin, another hiker, had given me her excess fuel in a pink 12oz plastic bottle and it was acting and smelling unusually strong. Not that I'd ever used that stove before, or any portable stove. It was another donation from a section-hiker.Scott's daughter Amanda lit her own mini campfire in front of the shelter. He had taught her how to contain it within a ring of small stones in the dust. How perfect. Her white, long hair fell close to the fire at times but I could tell by her unconcern that she knew what she was doing and had been camping many times. During dinner I talked to her about her homeschooling. She said she'd start studying Latin within the year.¢I have a little sister who comes with us into the mountains sometimes,¢ she said. ¢She's just a baby so mommy has to carry her when we walk.¢¢You don't look to old yourself,¢ I said. Eve pretended to ignore this remark. ¢How old are you?¢ I prodded.¢I'm seven.¢ I liked to think of them all sharing nature together. A real family.The three of us relaxed by the huge bonfire Scott had made. The sun went down and every bright ember was accentuated sharp by the night. I feared for my rain gear (the only long-sleeved layer I'd brought for the southern leg of this journey) so cautiously tried standing on my tired legs and I moved away from the blaze. Scott guffawed at my caution, my inappropriate clothing, everything. I scowled and leaned against the wooden ¢fenceposts¢ that had been dragged in from the surrounding forrest by hikers more careful than we. I could just tell John was thinking I wouldn't make it. He walked over and offered me his Nalgene. It was the stiffest lemonade I'd ever tasted in my life.I took the cue for caution from Amanda's hard look when I tried to sneak another greedy sip later on that evening. So I took it easy, feigning mature adulthood.¢I don't want to brag or anything,¢ I said, ¢but I think I've gotten my 'hiker legs' already.¢¢Yeah, OK!¢ Scott fairly roared into the night. Then he laughed again, all intimidation, bulk, and man. ¢See how you feel when you get to Neels Gap. I have a friend there, owns the supply store, by the way. He wrote a great book about the AT.¢¢Interesting.¢ I said, though I knew I'd read all I wanted to about this thing.o¢Stop! STOP IT!¢ Amanda's childvoice woke me up in the middle of the night. There were ten minutes of silence before John began snoring again. Maybe she was talking to the dog? I didn't sleep very much after that.