Date: 2004-03-09
From: Sheep Rock Top

To: Blue Mt. Shelter
Miles today: 7.8
Weather: overcast clouds

snow! off and on all day; more on than off towards the end off the hike. i think we did pretty well with miles for a late started snow day. we didn't start til close to noon and have a couple inches of white to show for it. sharing the shelter so far at 5pm with two guys and a very excited black lab named pepper.since i'm in bed so early, i've got time to write on this hike in general. it is what i expected it to be. hard, but only physically so far. georgia's more enchanted than i had anticipated. the rhododendron tunnels pull me back to an old make believe mentality i'd lost somewhere along the way. as little girls, regan seery and i would play for hours neath the canopy of her mother's rhododendron grove, pretending that the dried and curled leaves were in fact cinnamon sticks. {a vital ingredient in our magic, witchy, onion-grass potions} the georgian groves have paved this path with enough cinnamon to banish all the smelly babysitters in manhattan and conjure enough chocolate fudge cake to feed india for a year. the mountains here make distances look like oceans and the echoes of a single military hecipalopter sound like a melee of dragonflies at country dusk. the mists could have inspired escher and the people have more than inspired me. enchanted isn't the word.as for my physical state, it's changing every day. my legs are hardening from the terrain and my biceps and forearms are growing from the hiking poles which help my legs with the terrain. i won't say that my buttcheeks could crush a walnut, but i'm sure they could take on a marshmallow or two. maybe next week they'll crack a ritz. not literally, that would be inappropriate. this high carb diet has brought along a friend, whose name starts with a "c" and ends with an "onstipation". it puts me in a cranky position, but i guess i'd choose this over the extreme alternative. one crap held hostage is far better than two craps held in the pants, i always say. even if shit doesn't happen, don't eat it, right paco? of course that's right.this morning i finished off a chocolate bar and was justified in doing so. brilliant. some dried ooze got stuck beneath my fingernail as i was dressing the blister on my toe and of course i decided to conduct the experiment of holding my crusty fingernail under ross's nose. the sour look on his face and the ensuing waves of giggles were worth all four days of podiatric agony. i believe that my feet have gotten over their initial hatred of me and, with the help of a healthy dose of aleve, are beginning to bear their marks of accomplishment with a hint of decorum. the body odor which had been so offensive to me at start has now become more of a parfum de corps. it's part of identity. out here, identity is comfort. for those of you who have trouble understanding the correlation between personal fragrance and comfort, imagine my relief in the knowledge that if i for some reason found myself with tied hands, blindfolded eyes, gagged mouth, and fog horn accosted ears, i would still confidently be able to tell the difference between ross, midas, sanford, sweating pig, and some random murderous transient. obviously, b.o.'s a definite advantage. dogs sniff butts, hikers sniff pits. hopefully i won't be sniffing too many butts by damascus...