Date: 2017-04-07
From: Jerry Cabin Shelter 

To: Hogback Ridge Shelter
Miles today: 15.5
Weather: light snow

When the urge comes upon me, no matter how warm and comfortable I am in my bag, I know there is no going back to sleep, though I have tried. When I'm sleeping in the privacy of my tent, I find my trusty Gatorade bottle and settle matters discretely. But when you're packed like sardines in a shelter, shoulder to shoulder with your neighbors, the Gatorade bottle is out of the question. So I must don my headlamp, which has a red light feature, unzip my bag, quietly, so as not to wake anyone, lest they know the old geezer's getting up to pee again, shimmy down my air matress, jump off the raised shelter platform, hopefully landing onto my crocs, and stumble out of the shelter into the bracing air and snow covered ground, looking for just the right place to relieve oneself, about two feet away from the shelter entrance, and then fumble back into the bag. Did this twice last night. Still haven't figured out this sleeping thing. On the upside, I could see that the snow had stopped and could feel that the temperature had risen. There would be better hiking conditions today.At about 7 am, before anyone else in the shelter stirred, Scotty and I started packing to go on our way. For the first time on the trail, I had to dress myself in frigid, damp socks and shirt (my pants were warm because I wore them to bed). My Marmot rain jacket was frozen stiff. It was a rude awakening. But within a few minutes of hiking, I had warmed up considerably. O the marvels of the human body combined with good clothing.The AT trail is well marked and easy to follow, except when a few inches of snow obscure the path and cover the white blazes on the trees. At various points we paused to make sure we had not gone off trail and forged on without incident. Our footprints served as a guide to those who later followed us.Walking through snow, even only a few inches deep, is tiresome, like trying to run through sand on a beach. In some drifts the depth was over a foot. Our pace was slower than usual. When the trail descended into a grassy meadow, we encountered no snow, just mud. But the trail doesn't stay in the valleys long, and soon we were pushing through snow again.The crowning achievement of the day was summitting Lick Rock, a 1600 foot climb in 2.9 miles. I count my steps to distract myself from the relentless uphill misery. As long as I keep my feet moving, however small the steps, I eventually get to the top. It's not as difficult as it used to be.At Hogback Ridge Shelter all campsites lay covered in snow, so we opted for our second consecutive shelter stay. Again, it was a full house. Frodo and Nopoles set up tarps across the entrance, which improves the experience immeasurably. A mouse taunted us before sundown, from the safety of a crack in a shelter wall, watching and waiting for us to fall asleep in order to wreak its havoc. We crossed paths with several Nobos who were slack packing south that day on a 21-mile jaunt to Laurel Hostel. Slack packers travel light, leaving their tent and sleeping bag at their destination, carrying food and water for the day only, and extra clothing for safety. Every one of them looked exhausted, worn out by the tough going through the snow. Each rued their decision to slack pack that day.