Date: 2009-08-22
From: Upper Goose Pond Cabin

To: Kay Wood Lean To
Miles today: 17.6

I had pitched my tent on one of the platforms provided near the cabin and, while I'm not a huge fan of tent platforms, they certainly do have some plus points: as well as limiting erosion and human impact, which I'm sure is their primary intention, they are invariably nice and flat; and being raised off the ground is another considerable bonus in certain circumstances, circumstances like last night when it rained and it rained. Circumstances where, happily pitched up on your platform, you can relax and listen to the almost soothing drumming of the rain safe in the knowledge that you are well clear of any pools of water that may at this very moment be accumulating on the ground beneath.So last night was good but this morning it was still raining and, platform or no platform, that makes it something of a thought to get moving. Maybe, I thought, I could just go 9 miles to the next shelter where I could regroup, reassess and if needs be call it a day. It was particularly ambitious but it was a plan and it was enough for me to overcome my inertia and to set out on this cold and drizzly day.Just beyond I-80 I came across a cooler of trail magic and also the answer to a question that had puzzled me over the last couple of days. A pattern had started to emerge as three separate groups of south bounders had, apparently independently, come to the conclusion, which they now confidently asserted, that despite the long miles that lay ahead they had already completed 75% of the trail in terms of effort. I'd heard this before - that if you reverse the logic - a north bounder, although he has completed 75% of the miles has only completed 25% of the effort, and while I don't agree with it it is a neat way of summing up something of what it is like to hike the trail. But it wasn't the statement itself that was puzzling me but rather why, suddenly, and apparently out of the blue, it was being brandished so frequently and fervently by the south bounders I was passing. Now I knew. Here on top on the cooler, left just north of I-80 by Gimpy (SOBO 03) (who I think I may have met during his hike), were those very words. Words left as encouragement to those heading south; something more than a can of coke, something that weary travellers could take with them, something that might sustain them during the miles ahead, something that had, apparently, struck a cord.The cooler was well stocked and as I knew that any south bounder would only just have come from town (Dalton lay just ahead) and that there were not many north bounders behind me I gratefully accepted two cans of coke, pausing to try and remember where I had met Gimpy and to mull over of the journey that lay ahead of those south bounders. Of course a long journey loomed large in my own future (some 640 miles) and with apparently 75% of the effort still to ahead it wasn't too long before I was once again plodding onwards through the drizzle, across quiet country roads, passed a pond or two and onwards, at least initially, to October Mtn Lean-to.I arrived at the Lean-to to find a couple of guys hunkered down. They were spending the weekend out here and I chatted, ate and read the journal. With almost every entry mentioning blueberry pancakes I thought it was time for something a little different and after a brief pause decided on a Nascar theme.Not quite as pretentious or random as it may seem though, as to the innocent abroad Nascar (North American Sports Car Automobile Racing or some such - I just made up the second 'A') does seem to be an almost constant Appalachian Trail companion.It's on the TV and in the newspapers when you stop in towns, the locals are often seen sporting baseball caps bearing witness to the great and the good of the sport, you pass close to both Bristol speedway and Pocono, and, of course, Combos, one of my very favourite trail snacks is, I am happy to say, the official snack food of Nascar. Then this week, as I sat watching TV in Great Barrington, there was Nascar once again, this time at the White House, where President Obama was taking a little time out to pay his own respect to this 'quintessentially American of sports'. There was a car parked in on the lawn (looking like something out of the Dukes of Hazard) and there was Jimmy Stewart (looking nothing like Daisy Duke) and there was the Pres doing his man of the people thing. And it wasn't quite as ludicrous or ridiculous as it all sounds. At a time of trouble in the US economy and for the US car industry in particular it was a show of solidarity and support and it was also, I thought, a show of this Presidents inclusive approach.America in 2009 does feel different from the America I experienced in 2003. The trail is still the trail but the world is different. Six years ago we were at the start of a war. At that time nobody on the trail seemed to have much good to say about their president. The war still rumbles on - now I share the trail with people who have served their country in that very war but we have a new President. The mood does seem different and while I'm not particularly political (a political observer, yes, but political, no) I see some evidence of hope and of a fresh start. Time will tell. No doubt Obama will come and go but at least we can take heart that Nascar will endure.