Date: 2008-06-23
To: The Last Day
Miles today: 0.0

Dodger said he was usually up by 5 am and on the trail by 5:30, but at 5:15, all was quiet. Some time later, I heard him stirring, followed by a long period of silence. Then I heard the air being expelled from his Big Agnes air mattress, which was rather amusing as it was so loud. I was going to stay inside my tent, but after lying awake, realizing that it would be awhile before he took off and thinking it would be polite to say goodbye, I unzipped my sleeping bag and tent door and emerged. Erik wasn¢t up yet, but he got up when he noticed me standing outside his bug hut and I told him about my restless night with the chicken. I asked Dodger how he slept, and he answered ¢like a rock.¢ I guess it was the 26 miles he did the day before, along with this being his fourth month out here. His inflatable sleeping pad probably didn¢t hurt, either. He did say that something ran through his tarp during the night, which he thought was a mouse. When he was ready to leave, we sent him off with our well ¢ wishes, as if he was a visitor to our home, then looked at each other, and started our chores. Neither one of us seemed to have a lot of energy, and with no need to hurry to our next shelter as this was our last day, we weren¢t too concerned with the time. We boiled water for our last oatmeal breakfast, and started taking down our shelters and packing up. Dodger had suggested that I use my sleeping pad for a frame in my pack to help alleviate the weight-bearing on my shoulders, so I tried this new system. It was much more difficult to fit everything in this way. Erik wanted to help and ended up putting my sleeping bag in my pack before I could put it in its protective zip lock bag. ¢It¢s not going to rain, today,¢ he said, looking up at the sky. Jean had told us it was supposed to rain on Sunday, but since Erik really didn¢t want to spend the time repacking what he had already fit in, I decided not to worry about it. I wouldn¢t be needing my sleeping bag that night anyways. While we sat on the big rock, eating our breakfast, Brian and his Dad, Greylocks, appeared, searching for the trail. After looking around the old shelter for awhile, Brian proudly marched up to our campsite and announced what a nice morning it was. Then, he realized this was not the trail either, and excused himself for intruding. We pointed out the direction of the trail, but saw them ambling around the brook for another ten minutes, searching for their way.       Finally packed and ready to go, we headed over to Kid Gore to use the privy. I left the door open and a chipmunk almost ran in, but it retreated when I let out a little scream. When we stepped out onto the trail, I could tell it was going to be a tough day. My energy was waning (for the first time, I felt hungry that night in my tent), the welt on my shin was throbbing and telling my brain to be more cautious, and every step felt sluggish and slow. I just wasn¢t feeling it this day. At this rate, we wouldn¢t reach the car until late in the day. It was a depressing thought.       After a little while, I started to hear a sound like a constant breeze and knew that it was raindrops falling on the forest canopy. I wanted to stop and put my pack cover on, even though Erik didn¢t want to. Soon, the drops increased to a steady, heavy rain. We reached the vista point, and I was thankful that we already had the chance to see the view on a clear day. Erik looked at the sky and thought the storm was passing, but it was really only growing in intensity. I was actually glad that it was raining. I knew I liked hiking in nice weather, but I wanted to make sure I could do it in tougher conditions as well. It was a good test for me. It was warm enough that we didn¢t bother putting on any of our rain gear. I was mostly worried about the contents of my pack remaining dry. My pack cover seemed to be working, but I was surprised to feel the rain accumulating between my back and my pack! I never thought about keeping that side dry! The rain gave me a reason to increase my pace and gain more mental strength. I told myself that it was all in my mind, and it became a challenge to see how quickly we could make it to the next shelter. We still had a good two hours to go. I didn¢t care that I was wet and cold, and didn¢t care what I looked like. I kept looking for the beaver pond- my indication that the shelter was near. Lo and behold, we came upon it well before I expected! We were making quick work of the trail- much faster than we had done yesterday (even with the sluggish start and slippery conditions)! While looking for something to hold onto for help in crossing a stream, we saw a big dragonfly and two other large insects on the same upright branch, seemingly waiting out the weather. I guess their wings were too wet to fly.       After a little rock hopping, I knew we had an uphill stretch before reaching the shelter. There were actually two hills, but finally, we saw the shelter with a bunch of wet hikers huddling inside. I approached it with a big smile on my face, and was expecting to be greeted by them, but no one said anything! I guess they didn¢t want more wet people in their space! Finally, Brian said, ¢Welcome!¢ ¢Thanks!¢ I responded. ¢Should I take off my shoes?¢ I asked. Copperhead said that would be the polite thing to do. I stepped inside with my wet socks and put my bag against the back wall. Deer (a section hiker), Greylocks, Brian, and Copperhead were all waiting out the storm. Erik stayed outside. He disappeared for a minute, then came back and stripped off his shirt. ¢Is it still raining out there?¢ I asked, wondering why he wasn¢t coming in. ¢Good one!¢ Brian retorted. Greylocks was sitting on his piece of Tyvek eating a snack, and Brian was looking at his guidebook with his headlamp. He also had ¢Of Mice and Men and other Great Novels¢ out. Copperhead had stayed in the shelter the night before and decided to stay put when she woke up to rain, but said she had a sneaking suspicion that this was the last of it. She packed up her things, grabbed her umbrella, and headed to the privy as a gigantic downpour began. Erik said he hoped she made it! Deer was reading the trail registry and reluctantly gave it to Copperhead after she asked it to sign it for a moment. Last year, she started out as a thru-hiker, but had to drop out after 1500 miles. This year, she was going as far as Hanover. After she took off, space was made for Erik to come in and we snacked on tortillas, beef jerky, and trail mix. I changed out of my skirt and into my rain pants. I was cold, not moving, so I remained standing and tried to move my arms and legs around. Brian¢s Dad was worried about the climb over Stratton Mountain. He had to make it to Manchester the following day to be picked up by his wife. I reassured him that it was no harder than anything he had already done. He contemplated hitching, but Brian said ¢You can¢t hitch on that road¢¦. It¢s clandestine!" He had clearly read Ishmael¢s trail registry entry about Stratton-Arlington Rd. (which I loved): ¢Whoever heard of a meeting place more clandestine, obscure, or inconvenient?¢. When Greylocks agreed to try to hike the rest of it, his son answered, ¢You¢re going to do it? All right! Good man!¢ I liked listening to them. They amused me. Deer took off with plastic bags wrapped around his feet, inside of his boots and then Erik started to get antsy about leaving. When Brain and Greylocks decided to take off, I agreed to leave as well. While packing up, I discovered a gigantic stick of mozzarella cheese left behind in the shelter. ¢That¢s awesome!¢ exclaimed Brian. He and his Dad fiddled around with their possessions, trying to free up plastic bags to cover their feet. Brian had a huge bag of trash, which included some beer cans, which he was having trouble fitting into his pack. ¢Can I ask you guys a huge favor? Could you possibly carry this out for us? I¢ll buy you a burger or beer if I see you in Boston.¢ Erik graciously offered to pack it out. I guess it was our turn to offer some trail magic. We started ahead of the father and son, as they stopped to collect water at the stream. I offered to wait for them in case they wanted a ride, but they said they would be fine. The rain had lightened up, my mood and energy level had improved, and we were on our last stretch of our trip. I was having fun again.          About two-thirds of the way through this last stretch, I heard a deep voice behind me. Brian! ¢Quick!¢ I told Erik. ¢We can¢t let them beat us.¢ I picked up the pace, as Erik commented on how painful this was. He doesn¢t have a competitive bone in his body and doesn¢t care who passes him. We reached the bridge and knew we had one mile to go! Erik had to stop to adjust his pack. I nervously paced the bridge back and forth, keeping a look out for our competitors. The re-adjustment was taking longer than I expected. Finally, he was ready. But as he was strapping on his pack, his water bottle fell out and tumbled down a bank! My anxiety was increasing. They were bound to appear at any moment! He managed to fetch it, only for it to fall out one more time! At last, we were on our way. There was no catching us now. As we marched victoriously out onto the road, we took a couple of last pictures, and looked toward the parking lot to see several hikers milling around. I think they took me for a thru-hiker, as well. I thought they were luckier than us to have someone show them where the trail continued. The leader was doing the Long Trail (southbound) and had three of his friends with him for the week. He commented on Erik¢s knife. ¢You¢re packing some heat, I see.¢ He asked me if we had seen a moose. ¢No moose, just a lot of moose poop.¢ Then he said, ¢Deer saw a Moose.¢ It took me a minute to make sense of this. At that point, we didn¢t know the name of the hiker going by ¢Deer¢. Apparently, he had seen a moose while he was on the Black Branch bridge! I guess I was too busy looking out for Brian and Greylocks and missed the moose! (or maybe he was gone by the time we got there).         Eventually, Brian and Greylocks showed up. Greylocks was singularly focused on heading up Statton Mountain, while Brian took a break and adjusted his pack. He shook Erik¢s hand and told him once more that if he sees us in Boston, he¢ll buy him a beer. Right¢¦(Neither one of them even lives in Boston!).         I changed into my thermals, as they were the only clean, dry clothes I had, and we headed off to Bennington for our celebratory meal. We had hiked 42 miles over the last four days. I had a turkey club and broccoli salad and Erik had pork loins wrapped in bacon with maple glaze. Unfortunately, I can¢t say it was a spectacular meal. It was rather average, actually. I didn¢t even feel like I needed town food. I felt like I could still be out on the trail. After dinner, we headed over to the South Street Caf© for dessert. I couldn¢t decide what I wanted. I was looking at the cherry pie, the brownies, and mulling over the counter help¢s suggestion of a piece of freshly baked carrot cake. I noticed that several of the brownies were labeled ¢buzz¢ and wondered what was in them. I asked and was told ¢marijuana¢ with a straight face. As I contemplated this option, he conceded it was actually espresso beans, so I went with the walnut brownie and a latte. Erik¢s carrot cake was much better, though!