Date: 2004-08-12
From: Bear Mountain Road, CT

To: A Rout and a Reunion
Miles today: 16.1

Early in the morning, I was lying in my hammock when I heard the whine of mosquitoes. They were flying above, and alighting upon, the bug netting a few inches above my face. As I lay there, I reminded myself that these mosquitoes were not inside the interior of my hammock. But another voice inside of my head told me that maybe some of these insects had found a way in. I reminded myself that my face was several inches away from the bug netting and I was safe from being bitten. But that other voice suggested that my cheek might come in contact with the netting and the mosquitoes would have a feast. I could not fall back asleep with those mosquitoes whining above my face, so I got up.For most of this journey, I have not experienced serious difficulties with mosquitoes. Horseflies, gnats, deerflies, and no see-ums have caused me problems. In Connecticut, the mosquitoes began to make their presence felt.Paul and Nick drove me back to the spur trail in Connecticut, where I said goodbye to them. I then hiked back to the spot where I had last hiked on the Appalachian Trail.It was raining hard before I began hiking. As I walked down the narrow spur trail, my body brushed against the soaked mountain laurel shrubs that flanked the path. Puddles of water covered the path. The same conditions prevailed on the Appalachian Trail. Within minutes, much of my clothing, including my socks, was wet.It drizzled for much of the day as I made my way over some difficult terrain from Connecticut into Massachusetts. The hiking was dangerous because there were many steep, rocky, and slippery descents to contend with. There have been a few exceedingly steep and treacherous descents on this journey from Georgia, worse than the conditions I faced today. But never on this journey have I contended with so many steep and wet inclines in a single day.I was constantly stopping to determine routes of descent. The rocky slopes seemed to lack enough nooks and crannies to use as footholds. I slipped on several occasions. My hiking pace was slowed by these conditions.I crossed over highpoints that I was familiar with, like Bear Rock Falls, Race Mountain, and Mount Everett. Alas, the views were shrouded by fog and rain.I did enjoy my hike through Sages Ravine, where a rocky stream flowed through an evergreen forest.Late in the afternoon, I descended the final steep incline at The Jug End. After that, the trail conditions improved. By then, the drizzle had stopped and the sun was showing itself on occasion.I passed by a corn field where a historical marker identified the site as the final battlefield of the Shay's Rebellion back in the late 1700's. I had done some reading on that subject and knew that this battle was a rout for the rebels.As I eyed the marker, I had no inkling that another battle and rout was about to ensue. I left the cornfield and entered a beautiful pine and deciduous forest. Some of the trees were side lit with an amber glow by the lowering position of the sun. The ground rolled gently. What a pleasant change from the rigors of the high county I had left behind. What a relaxing way to hike the last miles of the day.What a horror show! It started with an attack by deerflies. They were relentless in their landings upon the back of my head. Every few seconds, I would whack the back of my head with the palm of my hand. The pine forest gave way to a succession of swamps. Soon, the mosquitoes entered the fray, concentrating their attacks on my arms and neck.I walked fast, whacking my head to kill deerflies and rubbing my arms to deter mosquitoes. I did not have insect lotion because I had given a bottle of it to another hiker. I held the deerflies at bay, actually, I killed many of the little bastards, but I was unable to prevent the mosquitoes from feasting upon me. This was the worst single bug attack I have endured since hiking north from Georgia.I walked across some planks that traversed a marsh. Tall grasses were growing around the planks and obscuring the narrow spaces between the ends of each plank. I was walking fast when my right foot stepped between two planks and sunk into the mire. My shin and calf muscle jammed between the ends of two planks, stopping my forward motion and causing me to fall on the planks in front of me. The pressure on my shin was strong and I almost fractured my leg or worse. Instead, I ended up with some cuts on my shin and some filthy water and mud in my socks.I limped to the road crossing of Route 7 which leads into Great Barrington, MA. Like the rebels back in the 1700's, I too was routed in this area.As soon as I stepped on to the shoulder of Route 7, my situation improved. A motorist pulled over seeking directions. I told him where to go and asked for a ride into Great Barrington. He complied with my request. As he drove, he told me that his job required him to drive throughout most of the United States.It seemed strange engaging in a relaxed and civil conversation only minutes after enduring a hellish gauntlet of deerflies and mosquitoes, not to mention almost breaking my leg.He drove me to the library in town where my Mom and Dad were waiting to see me. Once again, I was enjoying another joyful reunion. Mom and Dad told me that I looked too thin. They did not tell me that I smelled lousy; maybe they did not want to hurt my feelings.We booked in at a budget motel (cheap for this area but still no bargain), and I took a shower. The next stops were to a laundromat and a Friendly's restaurant.Tomorrow, a day off from hiking. A day away from the bugs.