Date: 2013-08-14
From: Green Mountain House Hiker Hostel, Mancester Cente

To: Peru Peak Shelter
Miles today: 10.1
Weather: light rain

Happy Birthday to my favorite brother, Jay!I didn't get to sleep until late last night. It was cool in the room, and I snuggled down in the fleece blanket until well after 7:00 a.m. I was in no rush to get out. I felt like I had hustled my buns off for the last few days to get here, so it would be a shame to rush right back out. There was coffee brewing when I got downstairs. Everyone was moving about. Someone was cooking up blueberry pancakes. Someone else was having cereal. I waited my turn to use the stove, and I whipped up three breakfast tacos. We all talked and laughed and flipped through old copies of "AT Journeys", a magazine put out by the ATC. It was the first one I'd seen in months, and I found myself easily recognizing many of the locales without having to read the captions. My boots had pounded the earth at those very places. It was pretty cool.A couple of the hostel guests were staying for another day, but a couple of others of us were heading back out. I asked Jeff what time he would forcibly remove me from his property against my will. I didn't want to go, but I knew I needed to eventually. He good-naturedly told me 10:30. I wasn't able to get Tom on the phone until 10:20, so it was a hurried conversation. I didn't want to say good-bye. But the car was loaded, and they were waiting on me. Jeff dropped a load of hikers in town, and then he so graciously drove Yote and I back up to the trail. I thoroughly enjoyed my stay at the Green Mountain Hiker Hostel; it was all-too-short.It was really, really cool, hovering around cold. It was maybe in the high 50s, but it grew colder as I climbed up Bromley Mountain. The trail popped out onto a ski slope, and I walked through tall grass following the trail to the summit of the mountain. There was a fantastic, albeit, windy view. I stood on a rocky outcrop, but a gust of wind knocked me off balance. It wasn't that high, but I decided to get my feet back on solid ground. I walked over the to ski patrol warming hut. There was a group of day hikers sitting outside. They were all properly dressed in pants and jackets. I was in my hiking skirt and t-shirt. I pulled out my rain jacket and talked with them while I pulled out my lunch. Then I ducked inside out of the wind. It smelled like someone had chain smoked a carton of cigarettes inside, so I opened a window for ventilation. I sat on a bench and ate my sandwich while thumbing through a recent copy of a celebrity gossip magazine. I hate to admit it, but it's a guilty pleasure of mine. Even sitting inside out of the wind, I had gotten a chill, so I knew I needed to get moving. The sky looked gloomy and overcast. I felt a few drops of rain, though the forecast said to expect beautiful sunny skies. I hoped I wouldn't be caught in a downpour, because at these temperatures I was sadly ill-equipped. I had no rainpants or warm layers. I headed down the hill trying to dodge the mud. I did my best to keep my boots dry. The wind whipped and rustled the leaves in the trees. One minute it looked like it would pour, the next second the sky was a piercing blue. I came to a sign that read: Mad Tom Notch. I couldn't help but take a picture, especially given my long-period of silence that had peeved my dear sweet husband. There was a large tent set up near-by. I could hear three women's voices laughing and talking loudly. The sides of the tent shook and quake. They seemed to be having a grand time. I felt a few drops of rain begin to fall. It came down harder and harder. I stopped under some trees to let the worst of it pass. I'm really looking forward to getting my winter gear back. I got to a lookout. The storm had passed, but I could see it moving across the valley in front of me. There was one solid block of clouds with a perfectly flat bottom. Below them was a solid grey cylinder of rain. Almost as if that swath of vista had been blurred out for showing something indecent. I climbed down a steep descent and then roller-coastered for a mile and a half to Peru Peak. There were lots of wet board-walks with shiny grains and knots. It started to drizzle as I came upon Peru Peak Shelter I stopped under the cover as the rain came down harder and harder. I had really wanted to push another 4 1/2 miles to the next shelter, but I didn't want to do it in the rain. A section hiker, Cosmo, said that a large group of hikers had just set off for the shelter, so he didn't know if there would be any room when I got there. Hmmmm... It was only 4:45 and I'd only gone 10 miles, and instinct or habit said to push on. I knew I needed to make it by Rutland by Friday evening, and as it were, I'd have too really long days ahead. I pulled out my guidebook to look at the mileage. I did the math in my head, 22.3 miles. That couldn't be right. I pulled the pen out of my bag and wrote the equation in the palm of my hand. Yep, 22.3 miles. Well that changes everything! I thought I'd have three hard days of hiking, but instead I'd have one easy day, one regular day, and one easy day. Perfect. I started unpacking my stuff. I ate a huge dinner (I had bought way more food than I actually needed). I talked with some of the other hikers. I saw Danger Dave again, I hadn't seen him since Harper's Ferry. The rain fell on and off all evening. The stream in front of the shelter lulled us all into our bags as the light dimmed. I lay in my corner of the shelter watching the colors of the day fade into shades of grey. And I felt overwhelmingly happy with a hint of sadness. I realized that my days are numbered out here. Sleeping in communal shelters with strangers and instantaneously become friends and cohorts, how many more of them would there be? I don't know.