Date: 2003-07-23
From: Laurel Creek Shelter

To: Niday Shelter
Miles today: 12.4
Weather: broken clouds

I¢m still tired this morning. It¢s almost like back to when I first started in Georgia two months ago ¢ can¢t seem to get enough sleep. And I¢m not sleeping as soundly as I¢d expect; I wake up every couple of hours.And stiff! You¢d think all my stretching was for naught! But I think, I hope, I don¢t want to speak too soon here, but I think my leg might be a little better. It¢s got to be muscular; it didn¢t feel any worse for the downhill yesterday, and surely if it were a stress fracture I wouldn¢t have even gotten this far. I¢m encouraged.Well I guess I better get up and get some breakfast¢¦ it¢s 8:45!I just climbed up another mountain; and at the rate I was going I felt just like I did climbing back in the Smokys ¢ hike, stop to catch my breath, hike, stop to catch my breath¢¦I was frustrated and discouraged again; don¢t the last ten weeks count for ANYTHING?! I don¢t know that I ever expected the Trail itself to get easier, but I fully expected it to get easier for my body to do. Does that make sense? For my body to get stronger. Maybe it is, and I just can¢t tell.Anyway I have to admit that while there are still long steep climbs in Virginia, in between are long flat stretches. I¢m in the middle of one now, on Sinking Creek Mountain, and just came to a rock outcrop, a clearing, and a pleasant view. I was snacking on some Trail mix as I walked, so I sat down here to enjoy the sun. It quit raining last night not too long after I got into the shelter. Rained a little this morning, then the sun came out, then it sprinkled some more¢¦As I sat here looking 3000 and some feet down into the valley, I asked myself, ¢What the heck am I complaining about? Why am I discouraged? How awesome is it to be out here like this, perched on a rock in the sun, looking down on God¢s creation on a summer afternoon? What more do I want?!¢ If this was easy, I¢d get bored. And in fact, if the truth were told, sometimes I do on a long flat stretch ¢ I just hate to admit that.Anne told us that at first she thought you couldn¢t use deodorant out here on the Trail, but once she started to it made all the difference in the world for her spirits. I think that¢s the trick ¢ we all have to find the one thing that makes it bearable. Maybe for someone it¢s coffee in the morning; for someone else it¢s deodorant; for someone else silk pajamas; for someone else it¢s a Walkman; for someone else it¢s a book. You find that thing for you, and no matter how much it weighs you¢re gonna carry it. I thought of two things that I think would make a difference for me: insect repellent and another shirt.I guess I¢m kind of a granola girl after all ¢ I like to go natural. All I¢ve been using for insect repellent is Tea tree oil (which works moderately, short term) and adding molasses to my oats in the morning and yeast flakes to my dinners. (Molasses, brewers¢ yeast, brown rice, garlic and onions, and some other things ¢ B12 or B6 ¢ are all supposed to deter bugs, as well as avoiding sugar¢¦haven¢t been doing too well on that one.) Which must be working somewhat, because I haven¢t had any ticks, and few mosquito bites, and the bug bites I¢ve gotten aren¢t itching much. But the bugs still buzz around my ears, and fly into my eyes, and land on me, and as I said yesterday, they¢re enough to drive me batty. I don¢t think I¢m ready for the Deet yet ¢ I won¢t go that far, but I¢ll sure try some Off or something.As for the shirt, I¢ve only been carrying two sets of clothes ¢ one to hike in and one for camp. But I think a shirt has a maximum of three days of use for me before it smells just too bad. It¢s not the body odor even that bothers me; it¢s the clothing odor. That and my pack, but I don¢t know what to do about that. Even a week and a half hanging on the clothesline in the Northwestern sunshine didn¢t do a thing for that, nor did the Febreze I sprayed on it in Pearisburg!Well enough philosophizing for now; I¢m short on water, time is passing, and the miles aren¢t getting any shorter while I sit here.Once again this afternoon I was overwhelmed with gratitude for my opportunity to be out here. This, of course, while striding easily along that flat stretch I referred to earlier¢¦In high school I attended a boarding academy (yes it was co-ed, no we didn¢t wear uniforms, and yes it was by choice and not for punishment!) outside of Healdsburg, California located on a hill around which the Russian River flowed. The front of the campus faced South, I believe, a valley of vineyards across the river and mountains beyond. A beautiful, beautiful setting. We weren¢t really supposed to go down to the river without permission, nor were we to go alone ¢ for insurance purposes, of course, although ¢Mom Pride¢ sure liked to keep a tight reign on us girls! Once in awhile I was brave enough to venture down to ¢girls¢ beach¢ to wade, where permission allowed us, and in more adventurous moods to explore the riverbanks beyond that. Back even farther, in my childhood and pre-teen days, I recall bushwhacking through our semi-rural backyards or sitting in trees of an afternoon. I even remember the first time I peed outside, when Amber Bertolucci and I went exploring from the Stewarts¢ house one afternoon. Always I¢d envision myself an explorer in some far off land.So see, there has always been an adventurer in my bones, in my blood. Some days she appears out here. I catch a glimpse of her as I clamber up rock faces; lift a branch to duck under; forge through shoulder-high weeds; battle discouraging thoughts; hang my food all by myself; push on day after day in spite of physical pain; climb over (or through, or under) blow-downs strewn across the Trail; drink water with leaf bits floating in it; sleep on a bed of bug-infested leaves¢¦However posh it may be, a Trail blazed before me by tens of thousands of other feet, privies to ___ in, comfortable clothes and shoes, shelters to eat and sleep in, no shortage of food, and often pleasant company to share it with, this is that little Adventurer¢s expedition. Perhaps she is coming into her own at last.