Date: 2004-08-01
From: Kid Gore Shelter

To: Stratton Pond Shelter
Miles today: 15.1
Weather: light rain

StrattonMileage Countdown: -548.4The lack of rain yesterday had allowed the mud on the Trail (some of our fellow hikers have dubbed this new state 'VerMudd', with good reason) to solidify some. So when dawn came without any rain yet, we were hopeful that the mud would dry even more. However, our hopes were dashed when the sky opened up before it got light enough for me to begin my morning routine. So I slept in for an extra 30 min or so.That seemed to do the trick, since by the time I was ready to leave the rain had subsided to a heavy mist. But the good luck wasn't to last, and by the time I had walked a mile I was in a steady drizzle.Since I switched to my summer gear at Fontana Dam, I have only been wearing a thin long sleeve T-shirt on top, even in a heavy rain. After the rain stops it generally dries out in a couple of hours, and in addition it keeps me cool when the weather heats up after a rain. But the situation is different now. The temperature when I awoke was in the low 60s, if not high 50s. As I was walking along getting soaked, I could feel myself getting colder as time went on, and began to think of the possibility of hypothermia (which can occur in the 50s) for the first time since March. One thing I realized is that I am not prepared for one principal treatment of hypothermia, hot liquids, because I am not cooking during the summer and have no stove.Before too long the rain abated somewhat, and I heated up naturally from my exertion. But today's experience validates my plan to change my gear back to a cold weather when I get to Hanover, before venturing into the Whites, which can have snow even in August.Even though the rain ceased almost completely before noon, the damage to the trail had already been done. Mud that yesterday was the consistency of oatmeal was today the consistency of clam chowder (it is a thru-hiker malady to think in images related to food). Some hikers just plow through the mud, no matter how deep or soupy. I have not yet reached that state, thinking any dry area on my boots is just that much weight I don't have to carry. (And it is a thru-hiker truism that a pound on the foot takes as much effort to carry as 5 pounds on the back.) In addition, socks and shoues that are completely soaked just won't dry overnight, and starting a new day with wet feet, day after day, can quickly lead to blisters and related problems.So as others are plowing through mudholes on the Trail, I am dancing along their edges, skipping from rock to root to bank in an effort to avoid the mud. But sometimes my foot misses the mark, and I go down. That happened several times today, and surprisingly (NOT), each time I landed on the hand with the stitches. I was quite happy that the stitches seemed to be holding up quite well. However, one time I was showing off to myself how well I had mastered the delicate art of walking along slippery logs, using my poles for sensors and balance enhancers. But this log was different. It was not just lying there, but was up in the air somewhat. When I stepped on it, it was like a loaded spring, somewhat under tension. So when my feet inevitably slipped, they didn't just slide along thelog like they usually do, but they were thrown apart by the force of the spring, and there I was, standing in mid air above a mud hole. Not willing to land fully on my posterior and embarrass myself to myself, I tried an intricate recovery move. As a result, I landed on my posterior, was embarrassed, and in addition landed on my hand (yes, the one with the stitches) and jammed my wrist.I checked that there was no diminution in te range of motion, and that the pain was just a dull ache. Most importantly there were no symptoms of shock like there were when I made the tiniest break to my little finger back in February. So I concluded nothing was broken, and proceded with my hike. But you can believe that for the rest of the day I was careful to be fully aware of what I was doing.One thing I had planned to include today was to take the gondola down from the top of Stratton Mtn to Stratton Village (a ski area), below. At 3971', Stratton is nearly 4000' tall. That is the highest I have climbed since maybe the Shenandoah (there was one mountain in SNP just over 4000' and we climbed nearly to the top of it, but I don't remember the exact altitude we got to) or else the 4000' mountain in GA (whose name eludes me now).In addition, just as Stratton on Avon can be considered the birthplace of English language drama, Stratton Mtn, VT, is considered the birthplace of the AT. First it was there that James Taylor conceived (ca 1909) of The Long Trail, the first long trail in America, which goes the full length of VT from MA to Canada. After the Long Trail was complete, Benton McKaye (pronounced McK-Eye) was at the top of Stratton when he conceived of a trail connecting the entire Appalachian chain. The rest is history, too long to fit in this journal entry.Stratton Village, at the bottom of the ski gondola, is a tourist area even in summer. And even though the top of the mountain was still shrouded in heavy clouds, the Village was bathed in sun and full of people, even some live musicians. It was all I expected, lots of town food (sit-down for lunch, carryout for dinner back at the shelter) and lots of town bustle. It was good to experience that, but just as good to get back to the woods and to the shelter. Tonight the shelter is big, but still almost full. The usual crowd I have been hanging with lately, Mouse, Palm Tree, Tree Frog and Boonie, are all here and we are all planning on going in to Manchester Ctr tomorrow. In addition, Pilot and Vapor Trails, whom I met the day I climbed over The Hump (4/19) are here too. There is Long Trail hiker, Snowman, who was at Kid Gore last night, a man from NJ section hiking the AT with son and dog for a few days, and a southbounder whose name I didn't catch.