Day 155: Of Mice and Tribulations

August 9: I didn't sleep particularly well during the night because of rampaging mice. All shelters have mice, but the mice in this shelter were particularly bold and rampant! I usually hang my food on devices hanging in most shelters--a small length of rope with an upside-down can that supposed to thwart the mice, and I did that tonight as per usual. To date, no mouse has ever gotten into my food through the use of these simple devices--and that's still true. The mice failed to get into my food bag.

Wonderful views from the Barren Slide.

However, I had accidentally forgot to include a small bag of Wheat Thins and a Ziplock full of trash in my food bag. They were left at ground level, not far from my head. And the mice had a field day! I heard them scurrying around near my head and suddenly remembered the trash bag that I had overlooked. I whipped on my headlamp and the mouse merely turned his head to look at me. The fact that I could clearly see him was of no bother, and he proceeded digging into my trash. I grabbed one of my shoes and..., well, I guess you could say that I shoed him off. =)

I didn't even do a good job of that. The mouse scampered off to the edge of the shelter, beyond my reach. Then turned around and watched me. Waiting. "You're lucky I don't have a mouse trap," I told him.

Which is when I also realized that I had mistakenly left my Wheat Thins out of my hanging food bag as well. A good size hole was in both bags, and I got new Ziplocks to replace the contents. Stupid mice. Then I hung up the food and trash with the rest of my food and tried to go back to sleep, but I could hear the mice searching the shelter for anything else that they could get into. I kept a shoe nearby so I could attempt to hit them with it, like a batter aiming for the perfect pitch to whack the annoying creatures out of the shelter, but they were too fast. It was like playing whack-a-mole, and I was loosing badly.

LEAVE ME ALONE!

So to say I didn't sleep well was an understatement. Eventually, after searching all of the gear that was laying around and finding nothing else that was edible, they called it a night and went home.

The trail was bad.... so very bad....

The day was, generally speaking, absolutely beautiful. Great visibility, pleasant temperatures, and no bugs to speak of. The trail was bloody awful, however.

The steepness, scrambling up and down steep rocks, horrid mud pots. It wore me down and slowed me down, and the whole time I was thinking, how do I not remember any of this?!

And it's true. I have fond memories of my previous time through the 100-Mile Wilderness. It was flat! It was easy! Which is the absolute, complete 100% opposite of what I experienced today. How did I forget how horrible this trail was? All I can imagine is that the experience was so painful, so horrible, it had been blocked from my memory. A natural defense mechanism my brain employed.

But, despite the difficulty of the trail, I still had to admit... the views were absolutely spectacular. The vistas, the ponds, the creeks.... gorgeous!

In the afternoon, I walked a bit off trail to check out West Chairback Pond and while standing at the shoreline, admiring the view, I heard a faint and distant call: "Tortuga!"

I looked around and saw nobody.

"Tortuga! On the island in the lake!"

That's when I saw them, Loon and Young Blood taking a break on the shore of a small island in the lake. There were a few canoes by the shore and they had "borrowed" one taking it for a joyride. It seemed like all of the larger lakes in Maine had canoes apparently abandoned at their shores, although most of them usually didn't appear to be usable. They obviously found on that was.

We waved and shouted back and forth at each other across the water and they said they'd come over and get me, but I waved them off. I didn't really feel like going for a canoe ride at the moment. I was running behind my self-imposed schedule already because of the trail's difficulty and wanted to keep moving hit my goal for the day before it got too dark.

Loon climbs the remnants of the lookout tower on Barren Mountain.

Late in the day, I ran into a face that I hadn't seen since back in Virginia. I saw him coming up toward me, in the wrong direction.

"Disciple!" I called out. "You're going the wrong way! Katahdin is that way!"

He knew that, of course, and said that he had summited five days earlier and was now hiking southbound because he'd never backpacked in the winter before and wanted to keep hiking south until he got a "winter experience."

Keeping in mind, it was August 9th now. Still solidly in my summer by my math.

"You'll reach Springer Mountain again by the time winter strikes!" I said.

"Yes, I might...."

Crazy SOB! =)

It had been a few months since I last saw Disciple and since he hadn't been seeing my entries in the register, he had assumed that I had quit the trail. Nope, just behind him. I knew he hadn't quit the trail since I'd been following his register entries for months, but he was always so far ahead that I assumed I'd never see him again. I certainly didn't expect him to turn around at the end and start hiking southbound again.

It was fun catching up with him. In hindsight, I wish I had gotten his contact information. I'm very curious how far south he made it before quitting--or if he actually hiked all the way back to Springer Mountain.

The shelters were badly spaced along this section of trail--at least for me, they were--but since weather forecasts overnight looked good, I decided to camp between shelters on the shore of the West Branch of the Pleasant River, along with Young Blood, Loon and Salty Dog.

Some day hikers, camped nearby, who had parked at the trailhead a minute or two walk away (wilderness my a##!) gave us some cheese, crackers, gorp and beers as trail magic. I took the beer, then after the trail angel had left, gave it to one of the other hikers. I just didn't like it, but I saw no reason to turn him down either. =)

The lookout tower really was just remnants--it has no top anymore! I'm not entirely sure if it considered safe for us to climb, but we did it anyhow. The structure seemed solid. =)

I hate this #*@&$ %@$*# trail. Just saying.... =)

Shrugged and Axon (the French-Canadians that I started the 100-Mile Wilderness with) coming down the steep and uneven slope.

I'm kind of surprised a sign like this is even needed. Why would anyone want to step off of the bog bridging? It's the only thing that's keeping us out of knee-deep water and mud! Why not just put up a sign asking people not to shoot themselves in the foot while they're at it?

Nothing looks particularly endangered to me, but I'll stay on the bog bridges anyhow! =) I wish there was a lot more of this, in fact!

As the day progressed, the sun came out more and more and it really turned into an absolutely gorgeous day!

I caught this crew building some new stone steps along the rugged terrain. I wanted to hug every last one of them. =)

Loon and Young Blood hijacked a canoe like this one to paddle across the pond.

Salty Dog briefly stops to admire the view.

Day 112: Vermont and the Long Trail!

June 27: I woke up and started hiking by 6:00. Jiggs was still fast asleep when I left, but I figured he'd be catching up soon with his big mile days.

It wasn't much more than an hour later when I arrived at the summit of Mount Greylock, the highest point in Massachusetts. The observation tower at the top was closed due to renovations. I've been here three times now, and not once has that observation tower been open. I was starting to have my doubts it if was ever really open!

I did, however, walk into Bascom Lodge. Mostly, I wanted to look through the gift shop for postcards, but when I arrived, I saw no gift shop. I asked a guy who was working there about it and he said it hadn't opened yet and opened this closet thing which had everything stuffed into it. I guess they pull it out for display in the lobby when the "gift shop" opens. So then I asked if there were postcards anywhere on the premises that I could buy, and he said he could do that, pulling out the postcard rack from the closet. I picked a few, paid for them and was on my way. Nice of him to "open" the gift shop for me. =)

I continued down Mount Greylock, and another hour or two later, I crossed a dayhiker who was hiking southbound who'd just seen three (THREE!) bears! He "warned" me about the bears and to be safe. Why? Were they aggressive? No. In fact, they ran away from his as soon as he showed you. "You mean you scared the bears off?!" I shook my head sadly. "It would have been nice to see them myself." =)

I was a little amused at his apparent fear of bears and wondered where he was from. Did they not have bears there? So I asked him, where you from?

"California."

I happen to be quite familiar with California having spent the first 20-odd years of my life there. It's also a very big state!

"What part of California?" I asked.

"Fresno," he answered.

"I'm so sorry to hear that," I told him.

"Ah, you're familiar with it, then?"

I laughed. Not super familiar (thank goodness!), but I'd driven through a few times on my way to Yosemite and told him as such, explaining that I grew up in California. His fear of bears surprised me even more--he had a whole bunch of them in his proverbial backyard!

"Where in California?" he asked me.

"San Luis Obispo." I answered.

"You bastard!" he exclaimed, clearly in envy. I laughed. That was funny. =)

So we talked about California for awhile and eventually went on in our separate directions, although I kept my eyes open for three bears that I knew were in the area. I never saw any of the bears, though.

As the trail approaches Highway 2 between Willamstown and North Adams, it passes a water treatment plant and I started hearing enormous bang-like explosions. I don't have a clue what they were, but it was an odd thing to be hearing and continued to increase in volume the closer I got to the water treatment plant. After passing it, the sound started decreasing. BOOM! Boom! boom! What the heck is going on over there? I once heard that some farmers will generate large booming sounds at randomly-set times to scare off birds and such and I wondered if something similar was happening here. To scare off birds from a landfill I couldn't see? To scare off a problematic bear in the area? I don't know, and I never did find out what those booming sounds were for.

Where the trail crosses Highway 2, a police car had stopped in the intersection and was directing traffic off of Highway 2. I couldn't figure out why. Was there a wreck further up Highway 2 I couldn't see? Some sort of construction project temporarily close the road? No idea! Never did find out either. This area seems to be full of mysterious sounds and activities!

Upon reaching Highway 2, I took a detour off trail into North Adams to resupply. Along the way, I passed the entrance for the airport which was packed with people and planes flying around all over the place. It looked like there was some sort of event happening at the airport, but once again, I had no idea what. Seemed to be the story of my life today!

I resupplied at the Shop and Save. I spent a couple of hours there resupplying, repacking the week of food into my pack (enough to get me to Rutland a little over a hundred miles away) and eating lunch. I remembered shopping here two years earlier when I started hiking the Long Trail. Amanda and I had driving here for me to supply myself, then I walked back to the hotel. And from the hotel, I walked to the start of the Long Trail. Essentially, my Long Trail hike had started at this supermarket. On Walking 4 Fun, however, I started it at the hotel, but the truth was, I started walking from here.

The memorial at the top of Mount Greylock--the highest point in Massachusetts.

After resupplying and eating lunch, I walked back to the trail. The policeman who'd been directing traffic off of Highway 2 was no longer there and traffic was flowing smoothly again in both directions. Back on the trail, I followed it through a small neighborhood before it ducked back into the trees again and steadily climbed to the Vermont border.

Weather forecasts had called for rain starting at around 4:00 so I'd been hoping to finish my day's hiking by then, but I was running late and the weather was turning decidedly uglier.  It hadn't started raining yet, but it would and I was in a race to beat it to the shelter!

A few more miles, and I arrived at the Vermont border which also marks the beginning of the Long Trail. I could follow that trail and finish at the Canadian border less than 300 miles away! But no, I'd be hiking to Maine nearly 600 miles away. I started joking with other thru-hikers along this stretch that they should just go to Canada. Then they could tell people that they hiked from Georgia to CANADA which sounds a lot more impressive than saying you walked from Georgia to Maine.

And for the next hundred or so miles, I'd be hiking this trail for the third time! The first was during my 2003 thru-hike of the AT, then in 2013 during my thru-hike of the Long Trail. And now in 2015 for another AT thru-hike. I kind of liked the idea of just skipping ahead. I didn't need to do it a third time. I was hiking this trail for photos to use on Walking 4 Fun, but I have photos for this hundred miles of trail which I took in 2013!

But I didn't really want to use duplicate photos for a hundred miles of trail either. No, I'd hike it again. One last time. (Pray, God, let it be the last time!)

View from Mount Greylock

At the border I met a family of three who had just completed the Long Trail and were clearly in good spirits over their success. I took a group photo for them posing with the sign that marks the start/end of the trail and chatted for a few minutes and congratulated them on their success. I knew what it felt like--I'd done it before just a couple of years earlier, after all, and it's no easy feat! =)

A short while later, I pulled into the Seth Warner Shelter which I was disappointed to see absolutely packed with people. It looked like a girl scout troop had invaded. (They weren't girl scouts, though--that was just my first impression since there were so many young girls there.) I was a little annoyed too. Large groups like that aren't supposed to fill up the shelters. Outside of the shelter, it looked like a troop of boy scouts had invaded. The area was crawling with probably 30+ people between those two groups!

However! It had not yet started to rain! I was still dry! For the time being! =) It was close to 5:00 now and the rain had held off long enough to get me to the shelter, but it wouldn't hold off much longer.

The group in the shelter was quite friendly and asked if I wanted to squeeze in. There were already NINE people in the eight-person shelter, and they were offering to make room for me?! I was astounded! Granted, four of them were cute little kids and didn't take up as much floor space to lay down, but it was still a very crowded shelter. I wasn't sure I even wanted to be in such a crowded shelter. Well, I didn't want to be in such a crowded shelter, but it turns out I didn't want to set up my tarp and sleep in the rain overnight even more. =)

I hadn't realized it until one of the moms in the group pointed out that I was the only guy in the shelter. Oh my goodness! She's right! I'm sharing a shelter with nine girls! That'll make a good story! =) I'm totally going to brag about that to every thru-hiker I meet. I won't tell them that four of them were kids, four more were their moms, and one Long Trail thru-hiker who had just started her hike today.

I squeezed into the shelter between Erika (the Long Trail thru-hiker who had just started her hike) and one of the parents. One of the kids was shifted to sleep along the open edge of the shelter rather than lengthwise with the rest of us.

The parents had started cooking dinner and were complaining that they had brought too much food and asked if I'd like any. Well sure! I didn't even have to cook dinner now?! I'm loving this group! =) And I got to eat quesadillas for dinner. I hadn't had quesadillas in a long time! Although admittedly, in the back of my head, a voice was chastising me for not eating the food in my own pack. My pack was super heavy having just left town with a week of food, and it wasn't getting any lighter by not eating the food in it!

The shelter had a bear box for hikers to store their food, but there was a lock on it and nobody knew the combination. We couldn't use the bear box. I wasn't going to lose any sleep over the matter, but the lock was one of those with four digits. You line up the correct four numbers and it'll pop right open. So the kids wanted to figure out the combination. They were pretty clever too! They started with "obviously" guesses like 1111, 1234 and other common patterns. When those didn't work, they tried some other clever guesses like 2243 (the elevation above sea level of the shelter) and 1599 (our official distance from Springer Mountain). They searched the register for hints or clues--maybe someone wrote the combination down--but they struck out there too.

As clever as they were, however, none of it worked. The bear box was locked closed. The only solution left at this point was a brute-force attack: try every combination possible until you hit the right one. It has to be one of 10,000 combinations (0000 to 9999) so it is a limited number and quite possible to break into with such a brute-force attack, but it would likely take time. A couple of the kids started working on that, but they were free to quit at any time and eventually they did. We never did get the bear box open. What sort of surprises would have been it? We'll never know....

Later in the evening, Jiggs showed up. Which surprised me--I had assumed that he passed me when I spent two hours in town resupplying and eating lunch and was 10 miles ahead of me by now. Jiggs, of course, was immensely disappointed to find the 8-person shelter already packed with 10 people, but the large group with kids welcome him in too! Nooo! Now I can't say that I spent in a shelter full of JUST women anyhow! It'll ruin my story! On the other hand, squeeze 11 people into an 8-person shelter is quite an accomplishment in its own right. =)

The only floor space at all that was left was along the open edge of the shelter, and that's where Jiggs set up for the night. I didn't realize it then, but he didn't carry a tent or a tarp so was completely dependent on shelters to stay dry in inclement weather and had we not made space for him, he'd have hiked on to the next shelter seven miles away. "And what would you do if that shelter was full?" I later asked him. He shrugged his shoulders.

I suspect very much that the shelter would have been full as well. It was a Saturday when a lot more people are out and about and ever since we merged with the Long Trail, there's been a lot more hikers in general. The trail was bursting at the seams full of hikers.

Hear the BOOM?!

Crosswalk near a school. How cute! =)

Interesting potting plants at the Shop and Save! You gotta be careful that these pots just don't run off with your plants!

In the register at the MA/VT border, I taped this photo into the back calling it "trail porn." =)

We've reached the Massachusetts/Vermont border! Woo-who! Eleven states done and just THREE to go!

The Vermont border also marks the beginning of the Long Trail.

Me with my girls. *nodding* (That's me, the second from the right resting my head on my hands.) Jiggs would be in that sleeping bag in front of me if he hadn't gotten up to take this photo. There are two more people on the left that didn't quite make it into the photo!

Day 106: Water, water, everywhere!

June 21: It rained all night and continued heavily into the morning. With little hope of the rain tapering off, I didn't linger under the dry confines of my tarp and hit the trail at 6:00.

Today was the first day of summer--better known as Hike Naked Day in the letterboxing community! I'd considered hiking naked for the heck of it, but it was so cold and wet I'd likely die of hypothermia if I tried so I bagged that idea. It was not going to happen in this weather! But in honor of Hike Naked Day, I'd hike commando without any underwear. =) Actually, it was more of a pragmatic decision. My underwear was soaked from the rain the day before and wet underwear tends to chafe me, so I just decided to go without it and blame it on Hike Naked Day when I told everyone. =)

Early in the morning, I passed the 1,500-mile mark of the trail! Woo-who!

I'd only walked a couple of miles when I felt the shoe on my foot suddenly loosen. The shoelace had broken. It had been fraying badly since New York which is why I picked up a spare pair of shoelaces left behind in a shelter, but I'd been too lazy to actually replace the laces on my shoe. Now, in the pouring rain, I still had no desire to replace the laces. Instead, I knotted the ends of the laces together. Not a shoelace knot that could easily be pulled open--there wasn't enough lace to do that--but an actual knot that I knew I'd have little hope of opening again later. It was a permanent knot! I figured I'd just cut them off at the end of the day and replace my laces that evening.

Four or five miles up the trail, I was able to get out of the rain in the Riga Shelter. There were a few hikers in the shelter who were lingering due to the rain, and Scibbles--who I'd met earlier--was camped in his hammock nearby. He must really hate sleeping in shelters if he preferred to use his hammock in the rain rather than sleep in the shelter!

They also told me that the weather forecast they had seen suggested that the rain might stop by around 10:00 and it might even be sunny later in the afternoon. I could only pray that were true! I could have lingered to see what would happen, but I was already soaked to the bone and saw little advantage to waiting around. I continued hiking.

I only made it 1.2 miles before I stopped again. Another shelter to get out of the rain! =) These shelters are unusually close to each other--it would have been helpful if one of them had been near where I camped for the night!

Inside was an old man who told me that he was taking the day off because of the rain. He doesn't hike in rain. Ever. Which kind of irritates me. So he's guaranteed a spot in this shelter because he never got out, while any hikers that arrive late in the day after hiking through the miserable rain have to camp out in the rain? At least set up his tent and let someone else use the shelter, but he had no intention of doing that.

And he was hiking southbound--the next shelter was a mere 1.2 miles away! At the very least he could make it that far! So in any case, he rubbed me the wrong way and I didn't much like him. At least I knew I wouldn't have to ever see him again!

By the time I left this shelter, the rain had largely stopped. Tree snot continued to drop from the trees, but the heavy downpour had finally stopped much to my relief, but the damage had already been done. The trails were positively flooded! Creeks ran down the trail in torrents.

Another mile and a half later, I had reached the top of Bear Mountain, mistakenly known as the highest point in Connecticut by many. It's the highest summit in Connecticut, but there highest ground in Connecticut where one can stand is on the Massachusetts border on the south slope of Mount Frissell. The summit of that mountain, however, is in Massachusetts and not Connecticut. So it's an awkward high point--on a slope partway up the mountain! And therefore Bear Mountain tends to get all of the glory.

The trail down from Bear Mountain is treacherous: steep, rocky and wet. I remembered it being difficult from the first thru-hike and it was even more difficult this time around because of the recent rain causing a creek to run down the trail. The going was slow, but I took my time and made it down safely.

Shortly thereafter, I crossed out of Connecticut and into Massachusetts. The border itself is unmarked, so I drew a line in the dirt with my trekking pole marking CT on one side and MA on the other and took a photo of it to honor the occasion. I didn't have a GPS or anything to tell me if I put it in the correct place so it was undoubtedly off by a bit, but I didn't care. It's the thought that counts, right? =)

I did pass a sign marking the border of Connecticut and Massachusetts--about half a mile beyond the actual border--next to Sages Ravine. A good size river was flowing and if you didn't know any better, you'd assume that the river was the border by the way the signs are placed. It's not, but the signs are very misleading!

As for the river, it was flowing fast and high! I didn't remember having to ford this river during my 2003 thru-hike. There was some sort of small bridge to get across, and if the water level was lower, I could probably walk over a series of logs that made a small dam. The water was much too high and fast for me to do that, though, so I pulled up my socks and just plowed through the water which was about knee-deep in most places.

The trail headed back uphill, this time to Mount Everett which, if I remember correctly, is something like the 4th highest mountain Massachusetts. The trail was rough, and not the least because of all of the water running down it. Near the summit the clouds started to clear, though, and I could get some pretty nice views.

Throughout the day the clouds continued to clear and the afternoon became quite nice! The rain from earlier would plague the trails all day, but at least the rain had stopped and temperatures warmed up again. I even thought about Hike Naked Day. It wasn't too late to participate for an hour or two! But at this point, it was so late in the day I was seeing a lot more people on the trail and didn't feel comfortable doing so. Nope, Hike Naked Day wouldn't be happening for me this year.

Late in the day, I bumped into a couple of people I knew: Silent Doug and Clueless! Familiar faces! Familiar faces NOT from the Appalachian Trail! Okay, it wasn't entirely by accident. They knew I was on the trail and were traveling back from an event in Vermont. I had texted and called Clueless about my location earlier in the day and where I expected to be in the afternoon. I was running a bit later than I expected, but they intercepted me just before reaching MA 41 at a scenic overlook.

They brought gifts of food and Coke and all sorts of good stuff. We walked back down to their car, and just as we arrived, it started to sprinkle again. ARGH! So the first thing I did was set up my tarp nearby. I had planned to walk further, but it was already late in the day and I had largely dried out (except for my feet) from the rain earlier, and I wanted to stay dry! So I called it quits next the dirt road and set up camp in the woods nearby.

After my tarp was set up, we walked back to their car and chatted and ate the food they brought. Nothing came from the light sprinkle that scared me into setting up my tarp, but it was ready--just in case! The rain would pick up later in the evening. Eventually they headed off to go back home, and I headed back to my tarp--my home for the night. I was a little sad to see them go--I had really enjoyed their visit!

This is no creek--it's the trail!

The rest of the evening turned increasingly miserable. After dark, the mosquitoes came out in force so I wound up having to wear my headnet and get into my much too warm sleeping bag to escape the onslaught. Then, as it grew dark, I noticed a slug crawling up onto my groundsheet. I flicked him off, then noticed another one. And another....

There were slugs everywhere! I cleared the ones I saw, then read my Kindle for an hour before looking around for more slugs and found a couple of more making the run up onto my gear. I flicked them off and started regular "perimeter checks" each hour until I went to sleep. Slugs don't move very fast so I figured I really only had to keep an eye on the perimeter of my groundsheet periodically rather than search all of my gear for them.

Even after going to sleep, I'd do another perimeter check whenever I woke up during the night. In total, I lost count of the slugs after about 20 or so. The final count, if I had kept up with it, would probably have been over 30 slugs.

The mosquitoes just buzzed in my ear all night long. I didn't sleep well....

The top of Bear Mountain, and the highest summit in the state!

A pretty little waterfall, right? NO! This is the TRAIL!

My improv border monument. Hello, Massachusetts! Goodbye Connecticut! If I had thought about it at the time, I'd have made sure the knot in my left shoe was visible! I'd cut the knots of that shoe at the end of the day.

Lots of waterfalls today! Fortunately, THIS is a real waterfall and not the trail!

The "official" MA/CT border sign is 0.6 miles into Massachusetts.

The trail crossed this creek. I forded through it in fast-moving knee-deep water, but other hikers I talked to later said they just walked across on those logs without even getting their feet wet. The rain, obviously, made this creek a lot higher and faster!

Nearing Mt Everett, the sky is starting to clear!

RIP, little fire tower....

You might think all that rain would discourage snakes from coming out, but you'd be wrong!

Now this water IS the trail. *nodding*

Clueless and Silent Doug come out to visit! I'm not sure what Clueless is doing in this photo. I hope she doesn't see this photo, but it's the only one I took of them! =)

It actually cleared up quite nicely late in the day! It would not last, however....

I set up my tarp before any rain can get my gear!