Date: 2009-09-02
From: Wild Camp North of Stoney Brook

To: Thistle Hill Shelter
Miles today: 18.9
Weather: clear sky

My gear related anxiety levels ratcheted up another notch last night. After 7 long years (49 if you are a dog) my tent has started to show unmistakable signs of terminal decline. It's been coming; a small hole here and there, the episode with the tent pole, and now, one by one, the zippers are failing. We've been through a lot. Something like 350+ nights; hail; lightening; snow; even Martin the German. We've travelled three continents. We've wandered 4,000 miles of this trail. She has never let me down, although I fear, from time to time, she could not say the same of me. Its been a slow process and at times painful to watch: first the outer zip, but with a zip at each end I could usually coax a complete closure; then the air vents at either end went, but I like the fresh air and I don't like condensation so that was no great hardship; and now the inner zip refuses to catch and to close. I tried some lip block and for a while it helped but now even that doesn't help. I think it was Maslow that identified shelter (and safety) as the primary short term human need. Over the years this tent has provided me with that on countless occasions but now the door hangs limp, the heat escapes, the cold creeps in. Its been coming but I don't think anything can prepare you for it.I once read that a real man shoots his own dog, but I cannot bring myself to say goodbye just yet. I'm not ready. Instead, I'll nurse her along, try to ease her pain and to coax her through the remaining miles. We started this together, we will finish it together. Her last days will be happy ones, spent free from other cares and in marvellous, majestic settings. Come on my dear, its time we were heading on, its time to hit the trail.I was still pondering this when I stopped at a small lookout to eat breakfast and then when I bumped into Icy and Early Riser. It was good to see them again. We had met one time before way back in Virginia (just before the James River if I remember correctly), they said then that they planned to hike in Vermont later in the year and true to their words here they were. Nice to see you ladies.The highlight of the day, though, had to be the leisurely break I took at Lookout Farms cabin. The companion describes this as one of the few views between Killington and New Hampshire, and I had noticed the recent lack of vistas, even becoming a bit disgruntled by it. But you forget, you forget quickly, when you are confronted by this; by blue skies, a warm sun, clean air and unrestricted 360 degree view from a viewing platform built atop the cabin. I grabbed my food bag and my camera and climbed the ladder to the platform, sitting with my back to the railings and counting my lucky stars. An hour later (too short a time really) I finally collected together my belongings and headed on my way. My schedule said 19 miles today, I didn't know if I'd make them but I'd have to make a few of them if I wasn't going to go hungry tomorrow.I certainly could have stayed longer (much longer) but was instead grateful for what I had enjoyed.Lots of Moose poop on the trail today but no Moose I'm afraid. There have been one or two sightings reported in the registers but certainly not a flood. I was banking on Maine for Moose but if they are here in Vermont (and the evidence is all around) then I certainly wouldn't complain if I got lucky and ran across one.I got a bit confused this afternoon as I crossed one small road after another. The companion seems to be somewhat selective about what it includes, mentioning some but not all roads; even some great hills, with smashing views don't get a mention. But they are here, I know because I sat on one today and I enjoyed it. Because I wasn't alone and because one of my companions had a map I knew that it wasn't Thistle Mountain, I even knew it had a name but, although I was told, I have forgotten it and I didn't write it down. Such is the way things go when the sun is on your back, your eye gets drawn to the far distance and your heart rate slows to something close to sleep.I'm here at the shelter with Matthew, Bee Chucker and 10x10 (my companions from 'No Name Mountain' and I also have a new book, 'The Amityville Horror', which was thoughtfully left in the shelter. Something to read on a dark, cold, silent night when I am camped all alone. Mmmm.