Date: 2004-08-20
From: Story Spring Shelter

To: Christmas in August
Miles today: 21.1

In the shelter, I was the first hiker to stir in the morning. The time was 5:30 a.m. Minutes later, hikers Baloo and the southbound hiker were up and about.For breakfast, I ate a single oatmeal square. I placed another one into a mesh pouch of my backpack. My intention was to eat the other oatmeal square later in the morning. The prospect of hiking with a near empty stomach worried me. Worse still, I would be ascending Stratton Mountain, the highest point in southern Vermont. I had decided to hike eighteen miles to a shelter and stay the night. Tomorrow, I intended to hike three miles to a road crossing and hitch a ride into Manchester Center, Vermont, to re-supply my food.On the trail, I felt a lack of energy during the morning. The ascent of Stratton Mountain was difficult and I stopped now and then to catch my breath.In the upper elevations of the mountain, the deciduous trees gave way to a boreal forest with evergreen trees. The trunks of the fallen trees were covered with lush green mosses. The smell in the air was like a fresh cut Christmas tree. The next thing I knew, I was humming a Christmas carol as I walked along the trail.The summit was covered with trees. The air was cold and misty. Baloo was sitting at the base of an observation tower and reading a map of the trail. He told me that the view from the tower was socked in and the winds up there were severe. A woman approached us. She was the caretaker of the summit and nearby camping areas. She told us that the mucky conditions on the trail were unusual for this time of the year. The wet and cool weather, she suggested was a portend of an early fall. I told her that at least the current weather was sparing us from hiking in oppressively hot conditions.She smiled and said, "When the temperature reaches 90 degrees, Vermonters fall over backwards."She told us that a rain front would be moving in later in the day and would last through part of tomorrow.When Baloo and I heard this forecast, we decided to hike all of the way to the road crossing and hitch into Manchester Center where we would split the cost of a room.Baloo is a faster hiker and said that he would see me later in town.After crossing over Stratton Mountain, I followed a trail that was inundated with concentrations of mud. Some of it was soupy and some of it was pasty¢sort of dry. I tried to avoid both kinds by circumventing these mires. I ate lunch at Stratton Pond, a beautiful and wild body of water.During the final miles of hiking, I walked with a section hiker in his thirties. He told me that yesterday, I had hiked through the most roadless part of the Appalachian Trail other than Maine.We reached the road crossing where his car was parked. He drove me to the town where Baloo had booked a room.The evening was spent visiting the laundromat, buying food, and eating supper. At the laundromat, there was no bathroom where I could change out of my hiking clothes. I had to huddle in a quiet corner of the room and change my clothes when nobody was looking.Baloo and I washed our socks and my hiking pants--they were exceedingly filthy--separately from the other clothes.I took a shower at this guest house. I stubbed my toe as I stepped out of the shower. The toe bled for a short time. It is odd that I would hurt my toe in a shower after hiking day after day without injury to my feet.This evening, I made arrangements for the shipment to Hanover, New Hampshire of my down sleeping bag and warmer clothes. These items had been shipped back home during the late spring. I will need them back when I enter The White Mountains later this month.