Date: 2004-08-21
From: Route 11/30, Vermont

To: More Rain and Mud
Miles today: 10.5

During the morning and early afternoon, I lingered in Manchester Center, Vermont. A cold rain was falling and the nearby mountains were socked in with mist. Under those conditions, I could not motivate myself to hitch a ride to the trail and resume hiking. I waited for the rain to stop.At an internet cafe in a bookstore, I spoke with Dingle, D-Bone, and Munchkin (a female); they are thru hikers in their twenties. They were trying to find a place to stay for the night. From my conversations with them and via e-mail, I learned that three thru hikers I know are leaving the trail due to injuries. That news, and the rainy weather, had me feeling bummed out. During the afternoon, the rain became a drizzle and I hitched a ride back to the trail. While riding to the trailhead, I noticed Slimer, the brother of Gather, walking on the other side of the road. He was heading for town. He looked wet and cold.I wondered if my decision to resume hiking during cold and rainy weather was a good one. My concern became greater when the driver took me to the trailhead which is at a high elevation. A fog permeated the air.The trail was a quagmire of mud, puddles, and running water. I wore my sandals and a pair of thick socks used only for wet conditions. For a while, I attempted to walk around the concentrations of muck and water. This approach created more trouble than it was worth. It slowed me down and placed me in physical contact with the soaking brushes and small trees alongside the trail.I ended up slogging right through the concentrations of muck. Even then, I had to proceed cautiously; this meant using my wooden hiking sticks to probe the deeper puddles for hidden rocks and roots.I climbed to the summit of Bromley Mountain. The summit was socked in with a cold, fast moving mist. I stopped in at a cabin used by hikers.Inside, it was warm and cozy. Several hikers were hanging out. One of them asked me about the weather conditions at lower elevations. His hiking gear was soaked and he wanted to get off of the mountain.I was tempted to remain at the cabin, but chose to resume hiking to the Peru Shelter, which would mean I hiked ten miles for the day, not a big number but okay considering the late start and the wet conditions.It was close to dark out and I had not reached the shelter. I wondered if I had passed it because my attention was focused on the trail beneath my feet. My apprehension grew as I passed through dense belts of evergreen trees where the ambient light was dim. In one such belt, I noticed brightness up ahead. It was the wall of the shelter, and just in the nick of time.I walked in front of it and my heart sank. The place was crowded with people including children. Today is Saturday; shelters are more likely to fill up with the addition of weekend hikers on the trail.I asked if they could make room for me. Several people replied at once, stating that it would be impossible to fit me in.I scouted the adjoining woods for a spot to string up my hammock, but the small evergreen trees were too dense.I returned to the shelter. One person suggested that I could sleep on a narrow floor space where some backpacks had been placed. This narrow area was where people step to get in and out of the shelter; it was dirty and just plain unappealing as a place to lie down.I resumed hiking northbound, anxious to find a stealth camp site before darkness arrived. The trees were too dense and my apprehension grew. Soon, I pushed through some small trees and entered an area full of fallen trees and bumpy ground. It was an unappealing spot in the woods, but it was open enough for my hammock and tarp. I made camp in the failing light. While scouting out a tree limb to hang my food bag, a thunderous clapping noise startled me. It was a nearby beaver slapping his tail on the surface of water. This stealth camp is a stones throw away from a lake. I think the beaver saw the glow of my headlamp and slapped the water to register his objection to my presence.There is a dead tree leaning in the direction of my hammock. The tree is suspended in the air and is snagged among a few branches on an adjoining tree. If those branches snap from the pressure, the tree will crash down on my hammock. I did not notice this leaning tree until I was setting up the hammock. But given the rushed circumstances, I would still have chosen this spot for my hammock.It is cold tonight, chillier than it has been since back in The Great Smoky Mountains. Staying warm will be a challenge. I look forward to my arrival in Hanover New Hampshire in a few days. My down sleeping bag will be waiting for me at the post office.