Date: 2005-03-27
From: Carter Gap Shelter

To: "Albert Arms"
Miles today: 6.0

I correctly predicted rain last night. We stayed toasty and dry in the new shelter. The mice were no where to be heard, but a pesky brown squirrel tried to steal a piece of our breakfast. Lucky for us there is not wet tent to pack up, only a wet day to prepare for. Alex and I don our raingear, for me that's my Wal-Mart visor and blue rainjacket. Our bags also get wet weather gear, plastic cubes that fit. We're trying to get 6.8 miles today to the next shelter; with the rain, slippery trail, and Albert Mountain it will be a full day.   Hiking along, the trees are dripping and there s a fine mist falling. The trail is saturatedd; it's sloppy going. Each step makes a "shlup"ing sound. The mist is thick and all the overlooks show the same white nothingness. Mostly we're ridge walking with thick Roderdendrons on either side. There are mild undulations, which I tend to tune out. It's quiet going, Alex and I are lost to thought. My eyesare trained on the trail in frount of me. In a steady beat, I look for a step that is as-dry-as-possible; rocks, logs, and roots elevate but are more slippery than a slip and slide.   We stop for a breather and water, and the "Easter Bunny" comes along behind us. Domino has packed-in bunny ears and eggs, which he plans on hiding up the trail. Though, the weather is not very Easter-egg-hunting friendly. We follow him out and listen to Domino-sung tunes for a good ways ... until he sings out of hearing range.   I awake from my hiking stupor in time to trip out onto a road. Wide-eyed like a deer, I look around. Strange. A Road. From here the trail winds up along a rocky outcrop. It is a tricky climb of rock scrambling, over and up; the wetness is the iceing to this mudpie. Then it's back to roderdendron spaced-out walking in the rain. There's a faint smokey smell in the air.   There is a sign propped up against a tree: TRAILMAGIC    A tarp is rigged up with young trees, bent in such a way as to channel rain water into a barrel. And, beneathe it all, is grinning and grizzled Barry, Gator-aid, and Fishing Fred. Coffee cups in hand, sheltered from the weather, and relaxed by the fire, the three men welcome our shocked expressions and lure us in with food. "Hello. Welcome. Put yur packs down, pull up a chair, and bring a cup! There's some corn chowder on the fire and when yur full with that, there are roll yur own burritos," says Barry. It's fabulous. Domino has already cozzied up to the fire with his tin cup, feet extended to dry his boots, his bunny ears still on.   Bearbait, Torch, and I are slow at first, but quickly come to life at the offer of food. Packs are ditched, cups and bowls quickly located, my raingear is tossed, and I lovingly pull out my beloved fleece.   Mmm-mmm... chowder! Mmm... coffee! I refill my cup first with one, then the other, again and again. I think I had 6 burritos. We're not leaving here. Albert Mountain will have to wait. There is a "condo" just around the corner; "Albert Arms," a tent large enough to fit 10+ people.   They're calling for foul weather: rain, sleet, hail, tornados?, all headed our way. We are here for the night, to listen to stories, and to stay warm and dry by the fire.