Date: 2013-05-11
From: Old Orchard Shelter

To: Partnership Shelter
Miles today: 24.7
Weather: light rain

I put my earplugs in before I went to sleep, but that didn't block out the snoring. It was so loud, that with the earplugs in, I was convinced that it had to be the hiker beside me, Badass. I feel like I'm a tolerant person, but I draw the line at snoring. It makes me a little irrational. I decided to take action. The snorer needed to be stopped. I did a tactical rollover/knee-to-the-ribcage action. I heard Badass grunt and move, but the snoring continued uninterrupted. I deduced that Badass was not the snorer. Woops. I pulled out the earplugs. It was coming from three people over, a known snorer (the "mooooing" snorer from Overmountain Shelter). Ugh. I was loud, and I knew it wasn't going to stop. I grabbed my tent and head-lamp and went a hundred feet away from the shelter. I could still hear the snoring, but it folding in with the sound of the wind and the trees. I set up the tent and went back for my sleeping pad and sleeping bag. I tucked in around midnight and slept great all night. When I awoke in the morning, I felt refreshed. I packed everything up and started making breakfast. Others started waking up, but the snorer was still trying to sleep. I didn't feel sorry for him losing sleep to our noise. Sorry, dude. No compassion here. I was a cold morning. I started out in my skirt with rainpants over the top, t-shirt, fleece, hat and gloves. The first section was really rocky and wet. The rains had washed away all the softness of the trail. But within a couple of miles, it regained a bit of finesse and smoothness. I was able to pick up the pace and really step it out. There were patches of low fog hanging in the trees. A whole network of hiking trails and horse paths intersected the AT. I covered the first 5 miles in a little over 2 hours. I had my heart set on pizza yesterday, and the beginning of today was making me realize that it was still possible. If I hiked fast, I could make it work. The day and the trail would be a blur, but I liked the challenge. I passed through the woods, past a waterfall, through a beautiful grassy field with yellow buttercups and air that smelled like cream soda. A rabbit darted across my path. The path flattened out, and I was practically running. Then there was rocks. I slowed down and picked my way through them as quickly as I dared. My eyes and focused were aimed solely on my feet. The rain showers came and went, but I didn't stop. My left armpit started chaffing from my salt-ladden shirt. Ouch. I stopped once or twice to take in a vista, but mainly I walked. Pizza was on the line. The last two miles were muddy and wet. I zigged and zagged from one side of the trail to the other trying to stay out of the mud. I straddled the trail when my legs were long enough, and clung to the side of the trail when they weren't. The day seemed to end how it started. Rocks, mud, water and leaves. I got to the shelter a little before 7. It was slammed. There was a group of around 20 or so, maybe more. They seem to be moving in a solid group. They are really nice, and I recognize their faces from Damascus. But I'm too tired to socialize. All I want is pizza. Their energy and numbers are overwhelming. I said hi to Bitter Goat a few others and asked where "the pizza phone" was. I called in my order and then went back to the shelter to set up my tent. I went back out to the road to meet the pizza delivery. While I waited, I called my parents. It started to rain, so I crouched down on the side of the road, pulled my rain jacket as far around my legs as it would reach, and I just huddled in on myself while the rain fell around me. My feet and ankles stiffened up, and I could barely stand when the pizza delivery guys showed up. I took my pizza and hobbled to the edge of a building with 12" of overhang. I sat down on the ground and inhaled my coveted pizza. I ordered cheese and wished I had ordered pepperoni. Bummer. I ate the entire order of garlic bread, save one piece and half of the pizza. I snuck back to my tent, hoping not to get roped in a conversation. I had nothing more to give. I'm going to sleep well tonight.