Date: 2015-04-23
From: old roadbed

To: Bald Mountain Shelter
Miles today: 16.6
Weather: clear sky

I got up late again today because of the cold. I woke up in the middle of the night and had to put on my jacket and an extra pair of socks to keep warm.Deciding to give the 10s another try, I laced them up before setting out. It was immediately apparent that they were definitely too big, my feet sliding around uphill and down. I stopped and relaced them. I stopped a mile later to retie them, then a mile later to retie them again. At 10 o'clock I got mad, gave up, and put my camp shoes on again.The morning was sunny, and I warmed up as I climbed. The wind blew on and off, or at least I was only subjected to the wind when I was on the west side of the mountains. I had a substantial breakfast but was hungry again by 10:30, when I ate the peanut butter and jelly tortilla rolls I had planned for lunch. "I am going to get so fat" I texted Mom. "Always hungry. Always eating. I just want an apple but all I have are M&Ms and peanut butter." I do have a habit of letting the hunger get the best of me, and am sure that I have gained a couple of pounds. I had a severe issue with my shorts chafing this afternoon. I applied Body Glide, which stung more than a bit.I set out on this trip intending to straighten my head. To meet people, gain perspective, get an idea of all of the different people, things, and ideas that exist in the world. I wanted to use the hiking time to think things through, to get over the past and decide what to move onto next in the future. I wanted to learn to relax, to let things go, to live in the moment, to be carefree and enjoy life as it came to me. I figured that habing eight hours a day to walk and just THINK would help me accomplish these things.Did I consider my future career today during my hike? Nope. Did I ponder the meaning of life? Nope. Did I lament the love I left behind with sorrow in my heart? Only for about two minutes. Did I stop to sit in the sun for an hour and bask in the unadulterated beauty of nature? Nope, too windy. Did I attempt to compose a poem about my insatiable hunger? You betcha.As I was progressing along, lamenting my uncontrollable Herculean hunger, words came to me. It still needs work, though. I will post a working copy at some point for your amusement.Sometime after noon, I passed a southbound day hiker, and stopped for a brief chat. We talked about the beautiful day and the spring wildflowers. Trillium and trout lily are all over the place. The trail is growing, the green rising higher and higher every day. He told me that there is a frost warning in effect. Dogwood Winter, I think he called it - the last cold snap arriving after the dogwoods start to bud. I thanked him for the useful information before bidding him goodbye and continuing on.Ten minutes later I passed another southbound hiker, huffing and puffing his way downhill. He told me that he had stayed at Bald Mountain Shelter the night before, and had suffered through frozen rain and woken to ice on the mountain.I don't know why, but this kind of made me panic. I was heading for Bald Mountain Shelter. Uphill. To higher elevation. Where it would be even colder. Even though I have a jacket, a 20° sleeping bag, and extra wool socks, I kept picturing myself as an AT popsicle.At this point, the wind started to seem even colder, chilling me through my jacket. Out of the wind, in the sunshine, it was warm and pleasant. But boy, that wind just kept blowing. Anxious, I ate my lunch as I hiked (I had more peanut butter for lunch. I really like peanut butter. Alexa eats almond butter and I wish I had packed some, but I was cheap and bought a HUGE jar of peanut butter at BJs and vacuum sealed it into little pouches, so I can just snip off a corner amd squeeze the delicious goop out). I hurried on, eager to cover themlast six miles to the shelter.Powering on, I couldn't keep my hands warm in the wind. It seemed like it was taking me forever to climb up to the bald. A ways from the top, I saw an abandoned fur jacket laying beside the trail. I thought it was odd, and decided to take a picture. I pulled out my camera and pressed the power button, and it made an odd crunching noise. My heart dropped. "Lens Error. Will shut down automatically. Restart camera." The screen read. I waited and turned it back on. The problem persisted. Frustrated, I put it away and continued on, eventually reaching the grassy expanse of the bald mountaintop. I still had more than a mile to go. Coming out of the woods, the wind grew stronger as I headed onto the grass. Soon I was absolutely freezing in the wind, jogging a little to get there faster. As I got to the top, I saw a gorgeous, amazing view. A view I couldn't get a good picture of, because my camera was busted. I took a long look instead, fidgeting to keep warm. I could also see the trail continuing FAR ahead through the grass. How could the shelter still be so far away?! Tired, freezing, and irrationally angry about my camera, I resumed my half-jog, trying not to let the wind bowl me over.FINALLY the trail crossed a dirt road, which my guidebook indicated was 0.3 miles south of the shelter. Then it crossed back into the woods, beautiful trees providing protection from the wind. Relieved, I slowed down, and started to keep an eye out for side trails. After ten minutes, panic resumed. Had I missed the shelter?! How could I have not seen the sign? Surely I had already walked 0.3 miles from the road, hadn't I? I would have been miserable if the forest around me wasn't so pretty, those little white flowers (I wish I knew their name) everywhere. I considered turning back the way I came, nearly convinced that I MUST have missed it. I figured that if I had, however, I could just tent past the next water source (I only had one liter at this point).Luckily the side trail to the shelter wasn't that far north. I arrived in plenty of time to pitch my tent and cook my gross comfort-food dinner of mashed potatoes and dehydrated corn (which I ate with barbeque sauce). I chatted with other hikers as we ate, including a man from New Zealand whose wife is doing medical research in Boston, and another guy who pilots planes as a hobby. The latter was kind of weird, complaining that his wife had planned his route for the day, which was 16 miles, and that he had texted her complaining that it was too far, and had been too strenuous for him, and that from now on he would choose his own itinerary. I have no idea why anyone would think it was a good idea to let someone ELSE choose their mileage. I change my mind ten times a day about how many miles I should hike. Apparently this was his way of including her. There are better ways. He learned his lesson.I am now nice and cozy in my sleeping bag in my tent, which I hope will keep in enough heat to keep me warm through the night. I am bummed about my camera, but embracing the suck and accepting it for what it is.I am thankful I found this stupid shelter, thankful for a warm meal and onky 17 miles left until I reach Erwin. I am thankful not to be a popsicle. I am thankful I am not that guy's wife.