Date: 2011-05-19
From: (59) Man Week, Day 3: Pass Mtn Shelter

To: (60) Man Week, Day 4: Rod Hollow Shelter
Miles today: 50.1
Weather: light rain

~ MAN WEEK DAY 4: LEMUR PULLS THE TRIGGER ~When I woke up I checked all of my gear, but the mice had spared me. I packed silently so as not to wake the others, and then went out to take down my food bad. It came unclipped and fell like a brick to the ground, smashing most of my food. Oh the irony¢¦My hike that day was a special kind of boring. The trail had reached a new level of dullness that was torturing my mind. The weather was fair enough, but that is what made me realize how flat and unspectacular the majority of the Shenandoah¢s really are. At one point I actually started walking backwards, sticking my poles out to either side and rowing them like a boat.Occasionally I would come to a section of trail that was still swamped, but instead of stomping through it like I normally would I took the time to go around. It may have been slower, but at least I saved my feet. The most interesting part of the day was when the trail led off a ledge with a creek below, which I jumped over. Behind me was Will, who wisely went around. I remembered the conversation I had with Will the night before. I had asked him which was tougher, the AT or the PCT, and he had told me that the AT was the most mentally challenging. Surprised, I had asked him why, and he gave me three reasons:   1. The amount of climbing and physical exertion on the AT was considerably higher.   2. Rain! On the PCT it had rained all of 1 and 12 days, but on the AT it rained several times a week. Everything gets wet, and all you can do is keep hiking.   3. The AT is boring. The PCT always holds a grand view as far as the eye can see, while the AT has the occasional view and then back to trees.Walking along the empty trail that day, damp after days of rain and about to head up another mountain, I could see what Will had meant. As my hike was coming to a close, I looked at the sky and realized that it was not going to rain that night, and that I finally had an opportunity to pull the trigger and go big. I opened my book and saw that the next shelter on the trail would give me a 33 mile day and the one after a 37. And so I pushed. I reached the 33 mile shelter with daylight to spare, and then the last by nightfall. I contemplated staying, but when I saw that there was another shelter 13 miles away for a full 50, I could not resist. It was time to go beyond my comfort zone and discover my full potential. How far could I go? Would I break and crumble, or was I made of sterner stuff?I launched myself back onto the trail. My pack was heavy, and I was unprepared for the miles, but I thought I could do them anyway. I walked for as much as I could by moonlight through a field, then took out my flashlight as I re-entered the pitch blackness of the woods. I was going pretty quickly at first, but then I slowed because I started getting dizzy from looking at the ground where my light shone. Rocks and roots materialized out of the darkness and whizzed by, an endless blur. The hours wore on and the dew began to rise. It soaked the plants lining the trail, and my feet with them. The boredom that I had felt earlier that day came back at an even greater magnitude, because there was nothing to distract my mind. On my sides was a tunnel of impenetrable darkness, never ending and never changing, and ahead of me the same old trail. I started singing songs, which helped to break up the monotony. If I had known that I was going to attempt a 50 miler that day, I would have woken up before dawn in order to split up the night. Hiking through it in one big block was too much. While walking through a field I heard a noise to my right, so I shined my light towards it to reveal two pairs of glowing eyes. They watched me for a couple of seconds, and then disappeared. Unnerved, I continued ahead, and then looked back. Whatever it was it was following me, and the eyes had moved closer to my rear. I chucked a rock at them and they disappeared, only to reappear on my left¢¦and my right. Was I going crazy? No, there was definitely more than one. Officially freaked out, I continued walking and throwing rocks (suppressive fire) until I was back into the cover of the woods. After that my pace began to drag even more. I was low on sleep, low on calories, physically annihilated, and dehydrated (making simple tasks like crossing a stream or solving a rubrics cube extremely difficult). My feet ached, and the feeling that I was walking across hot coals returned. My night hike had become a mental game, and it was only my stubborn determination that kept me moving forward.I arrived at Rod Hollow shelter at 2am, the end of my second 50 miler on a day that I hadn¢t even planned on doing one. The shelter was full, so I made camp in the mud at its base beside two dogs. I was such a mental wreck that I didn¢t realize my sleeping bag was inside out, and as a result was too cold to fall asleep for most of the night. I heard mice, but figured the dogs would keep them away. ~The fourth day of MAN WEEK was 20 hours of hiking for a total of 50.1 miles, and then sleeping with the dogs!~