Date: 2003-06-07
From: Deer Lick Shelter, PA

To: Rocky Mt Shelter
Miles today: 10.1

Very little sleep was achieved last night.First, the section hiker snored loudly the entire night, punctuating his buzzsaw rhythm with periodic sharp snorts. The remaining three of us in the shelter tossed and turned all night.Then, about 11 pm, a Boy Scout troop came splashing in from the dark woods, talking loudly. The foremost boys all shone their headlamps into our shelter, rousing us from semi-slumber. Then, calling back to the hindmost, they pronounced "IT'S FULL!," not using their indoor voices either. Finally, about 4 am, the skies cracked open and poured down rain - well, what else would it pour down? Not cornflakes or dollar bills, that's for sure. So much for "sailor's delight."I thought April was the month to bring the showers, not June. It's been a rainy month. What's up with this? Actually, April was about our driest month on the AT so far. Relatively speaking.I have a PO drop in South Mountain, PA today, a small town several miles off the Trail. But the post office closes at noon, and there is some question as to whether I can get there in time. Often, that's how it is, a race to the post office before closing time. My beloved At-L hiking list to the rescue. Hiker Dave (Trail name: "Black and Blue") had promised me a steak dinner if I made it as far as Pennsylvania. I've called to cash in my chips.We'd arranged to pick me up at a side road in the middle of nowhere. "In The Red" needs to get to the post office, so he leaves with me in the hopes of getting a ride in as well. I pack up. Outside the shelter, the air is very fat. It is downpouring steadily, and do you know how hard it is to step out into that curtain of water without any certainty of drying out that night? All one's instincts are to keep one's gear dry, a safety consideration here in the cool mountains. "Turnaround" is reluctant to leave the dry nest of the shelter, and says she will wait for a break in the monsoon. I tell you, if I wasn't meeting B&B I would have curled up in my bag and read my book. What luxury!Instead, I trudge out into the pouring rain, splashing along the swampy ground, Red following. We knock out the first two miles and come to a VERY sketchy bridge over a roaring, wide Antietam Creek. The strong current is washing across the bottom boards of the footbridge, which is now twisted in an odd and disconcerting manner. Is it safe to traverse? Who can say? There is no other way over. I take a deep breath, and inch out, unbuckling my packbelt as I do. Then, across, heart pounding. Cheated death again! Red and I arrive at the roadside meeting spot an hour early, and as the heat of backpacking leaves our muscles, we start chilling in the heavy downpour. So we decide to go up the River AT to another shelter .2 miles ahead and hole up, waiting, shivering and damp. As we leave, another troop of Boy Scouts come to commandeer the shelter. They fill it up. No ducking in this dry haven after breakfast and waiting out the rain.At the appointed time, we return to the road. B&B is a true hiker, and shovels Red into the back of his car, me in front. Noticing our shivers, he cranks the heat up high, ignoring the "woodsy" odor of his guests. We do the PO thing - my transcriber Suz "spike" Buchanan has sent me a movable feast of delicacies, including Skippy Peanut Butter with Nestles Crunch pieces. Oooooh, baby! On this Trail, where we expend more calories than we can carry, high-fat and high-calorie is a Good Thing.After the post office, B&B hauls us off for a truly fine breakfast at The Pink Flamingo roadhouse. The food is great. Yes, I get that promised steak. I order a large delmonica-cut steak, medium-rare, with scrambled eggs. Then, an excellent, fat Belgian waffle dripping with butter and maple syrup, hashbrowns, wheat toast with raspberry jam, OJ and three cups of hot coffee. Urp! Heaven!B&B then takes us to a grocery store for resupply. Finally, he offers ziplocks and candy bars, two trail essentials, then drops us back at the Trailhead. Thank you B&B! The rain is diminishing. With that fine, restorative, 1,500-calorie breakfast beneath my packbelt, I now feel like I can take on the world or, at least, the Appalachian Trail. Hot coffee helps too.It's still rainy, but diminishing. I decide to only go six miles to the next shelter. The Trail is running or standing water, and my feet are raw. I put my mind in trudge mode, and the walk is unremarkable but for one astounding incident.This will be hard to explain, and will pale enormously in the telling. I was just trudging along, alone. A fast hiker, Red had gone ahead. The Trail had just crested the stony top of Rocky Mountain. I was looking at the ground before me: rocks, lichen, leaves, dirt, millipedes. I was wondering about the cycle of life, and next wondered about even the not-alive objects that appeared in the world. And then, in an instant, there was a shift.The ground before me suddenly seemed like a whole lot of orderly chaos: every leaf, the endless rocks, soil microbes, me. Chaos, yes, but with intention and purpose.The force of that "seeming" stopped me in my tracks. I looked around in wonderment, blinking. For a rare moment, the world seemed magical, utterly connected. A twig with two leaves dropped from above, right in front of me. I laughed right out loud at this, joyfully, the sharp bark of the laugh bouncing off the trees. Then I teared up, though not in a bad way - I wasn't sad. tears began to well up in recognition - although in recognition of what I couldn't say.And then I wondered what the hell had just happened. It was gone, as swiftly as it had come upon me. Just like that. I wiped my eyes dry. Perception returned to "normal." I turned back to the long journey stretching before me, and began walking again.The shelter soon appeared. It looked for awhile as if I might have it to myself, only the second time on the AT this has happened. I welcomed it. It was early enough. I had visions of curling up with a good book in the rain. Bliss!In about an hour, Turnaround clicked her way down the trail, and I was truly glad to see her sunny self. She's good company. Tomorrow was her birthday, and a person ought not be alone on the eve of their birthday. We toasted age her 43 with the little bottle of Bacardi Limon Kelly and Jerry had sent me. In leiu of cordial glasses, we poured our sharp nips into our water bottle caps and "tinked" those. I told her to make her birthday wish. She wished for sunshine. Good wish.Turnaround wants to hike the Pilgrimage Trail in Spain, the one I cannot spell. Like Itchy Foot, she used to be in banking too. Now she is off in search of adventure. I do not think she regrets the change one little bit.