Date: 2011-05-18
From: Dutch Haus

To: Maupin Field Shelter
Miles today: 18.3
Weather: moderate rain

(In which I contemplate the scarcity of women on the trail)Lois tells us about a hiker passing through ahead of us who just found out that she was pregnant, having achieved the condition on the trail. Lois is unfazed, having seen it all before, but I'm surprised. While hookups certainly happen in the woods, I would guess based on what I've seen that their frequency is less than nearly anywhere else, in part due to the heavily skewed gender ratio. At the beginning of the trail perhaps one in four of the hikers I met was female, but lately that has fallen to less than one in ten, whether from shifting demographics or simply a fluke pocket of men I can't be sure. The pregnancy makes me think of a story about a Neel's Gap shakedown in which a single guy carrying six condoms was advised that really there wasn't much use in carrying more than three.Though I'm used to a university and department with a similarly skewed gender ratio, I find that the isolation and lack of internet connectivity to stay in touch with the rest of the world make the gender issue more pronounced on the trail. When I was in Daleville, I found myself astounded by how many women there were in the supermarket, and had to remind myself not to stare.As with other areas with a skewed gender ratio, the scarcity of women means that a greater than average percentage are already in a relationship. The few who are not, being surrounded by hiker guys cut off from the rest of society, are almost guaranteed to find flirtatious attention unwanted, since if they didn't they would be unlikely to still be unattached. The result of all of this is that hiking is a male-centric activity, and male-female interactions are necessarily different than they are off the trail, with implicit barriers and reservations.The shelter after the hotel is named The Priest Shelter after the mountain it sits on, and my sister tells me that last year the register was filled with confessions, more than a few of which involved the alluring Hannah, who worked at the Dutch Haus last year as well. Since the shelter logs are replaced every few months, it would be difficult to maintain a tradition over years I imagine, but I can't help looking forward to the register anyway. When I find that, as I had feared, the current register doesn't contain any confessions, I am disappointed, but eager to restart the tradition. I convince Triton and Timber to confess their sins in their entries, and along with my confession, I hope that these three entries will be enough to inspire others to follow suit.* * *I hike with Triton and Timber for a bit, glad for their conversation to make the 3000 foot climb easier, and we pass two somewhat out of shape southbounding day hikers who warn us of a tricky stream crossing.Messages from day hikers are always suspect; I remember once seeing two exhausted southbounding day hikers going up the hill I was going down. I asked them how close it was to the bottom, and they said that it had probably taken them three hours so far, so around five miles. When I reached the bottom a mile later in half an hour I was pleasantly surprised, but distrustful of day hikers' estimation skills.When we reach a river raging from the recent rains, we discover that these day hikers were not exaggerating after all, and recalling that they had dry shoes, I have a new respect for their water crossing skills. With considerably longer legs and a greater tolerance for wet shoes, Triton and Timber splash between slightly submerged rocks and manage not to slip. Their path would require more of a jump for me, and I am weary of jumping on slick rocks, as well as loath to get my shoes wet for the day. I shout that I'll take my time and wave them ahead. Walking up the hill they see an easier crossing location and point it out to me from across the river. The new location does not look easy, but at least it seems more plausible. I carefully step across stones halfway across, and taking a deep breath, make the last long step to a rock with a tiny portion poking above the water. The last rock tilts when I land on it, but I am able to hop off onto shore just before it splashes into the water, and my shoes stay dry.The next problem comes a few minutes later, when I catch up with Triton and Timber and we realize that in order to reach the shelter we had planned on taking a break at, we have to recross to the other side of the river. Triton and Timber again easily lope across, but when I still haven't found a suitable crossing five minutes later, I shout that I'll see them at the next shelter and hike on.The next shelter, where I stop for the day, has a group of hikers including Sherpa, a young female hiker I hadn't met before, who has been joined for the week by her sister Jenny and brother Mark. River Rat and Mehap are there as well, and Sherpa's siblings have brought the ingredients for s'mores, so everyone is having a good time. Jenny and Mark bring a newcomer's excitement for the trail, and the atmosphere around the campfire reminds me of the first week of the trail, when everything was still new.The transition from newbie to thru-hiker has been so gradual that it's been hard to observe, but watching Sherpa's siblings I realize how much things have changed, and I grow nostalgic for the start of the hike and the people I met more than a month ago. With well over a thousand miles and most of the trail yet to come though, I will doubtlessly have time enough to look back to this current part of the hike as well and marvel at how much things have changed since.