Day 12: The First Fire Detour

May 2: I woke up bright and early to hit the trail. The trail only lasted a few miles, though, since it was closed where it normally crossed Red Rock Road just three miles ahead. A prescribed burn was ongoing and yellow tape blocked the route.

Once I reached the road, my trail maps were worthless. They had no information about the reroute. I pulled out my smartphone and used Google Maps to check the route. I entered in a route for the Motel 6 in town, and Google reported back that with 26 miles away. With the three miles I had already done this morning, it meant I could reach town if I hiked 29 miles today. That wasn't going to happen, though. My longest day so far was only 17.7 miles, and I definitely wasn't ready for a 29-mile day yet! But I'd push on as far as I could and see where I ended up.

There was a water cache here. I wasn't sure that there would be anymore water until I reached town, so I filled up with a bit more water despite having several liters already. Better safe than sorry! It was a shame that Evenstar detoured off the red line when she did. If we had known definitely that there would be water here, we could have both easily have reached this point with the water I picked up from Mud Spring. Oh, well.

Water cache at the fire closure!

A big, orange sign at the road warned "Fire in progress," but I didn't see any evidence of an active burn. No smoke, no flames. But the area on both sides of the road were charred black, so it didn't seem to me like they had done a very good job of containing the prescribed burn.

Evidence of the prescribed burn was on both sides of the road, but I didn't see any evidence that it was actively burning today.

The first 4 or 5 miles of the gravel road weren't too bad and there were very few vehicles.

But then the road turned to asphalt and became busier. Not busy, but busier. The asphalt was terrible for walking on, though, and I still had 20 miles into town. Ugh.

I followed the road. The trees faded away and the heat increased as the road slowly descended in elevation. Shade become more and more sparse as the temperatures ratcheted up. Why does that always seem to be the case?

It was a generally uneventful walk. One woman stopped to offer me a ride, but I turned her down. She had thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail years earlier and understood my desire to keep my steps connected.

The low point for the day arrived in mid-afternoon, near the intersection of Red Rock Road and Mangus Valley Road, which also happened to go by what looked like an old mine. I couldn't tell if the mine was still active or not. Nothing about it looked like it was actively being worked, but the huge piles of tailings suggested that there had certainly been a lot of mining nearby at some point.

I followed Mangus Valley Road onward to Highway 180, which was a moderately busy highway and definitely the least pleasant section of the day's walk. Somewhat ironically, it was actually the official CDT. The fire closure detour was officially over once I reached this highway.

I stopped at the intersection next to a large tree that provided ample shade and someone had put in a small water cache. I wished I had known about this water cache earlier--I wouldn't have carried so much water if I knew about it--but it did allow me to guzzle an extra liter that I would have rationed otherwise.

Another water cache! Sure wish I knew about this earlier.... You can also see Highway 180 crossing over the bridge in the background.

 

While resting there, a tumbleweed suddenly rolled up and attack me! I'd been watching tumbleweeds roll hypnotically through the landscape all afternoon, but this one rolled right up to me and positively decided to go on the attack. I beat it back, eventually picking it up and throwing it off on the other side of me where the wind picked it up again and continued pushing it through the landscape. Stupid tumbleweed. *shaking head*

I was tempted to stop here for the day. It was actually a pleasant spot despite the nearby highway. I was pretty well hidden from both the highway and Mangus Valley Road, I had shade and water, and I had covered a decent chunk of trail already. But I also wanted to push on further and get a little closer to Silver City before calling it quits for the day. The road walk, although hot and miserable, hadn't been physically difficult for my feet. But I risked having to use an awful stealth camp next to Highway 180 if I couldn't find a good place to camp before it got dark.

I decided to take my chances, though, and pushed on after a short rest.

As the afternoon passed, the smoke and haze in the sky increased. At least I suspected it might be smoke, perhaps from the prescribed burns? Maybe it was the wind blowing up dust, though. The winds were quite strong and steady. Visibility was definitely falling throughout the day.

As sunset neared, I started looking for a place to camp, and eventually found a place that I really liked. It was down in a river bed that passed under the highway, making me completely invisible to passing traffic. The ground was level and clear, and the depression provided an excellent windbreak from the strong winds. The location wouldn't have worked in a heavy rainstorm, however, since it was at the bottom of a dry creek bed. Flash floods would be a real threat if there was any chance of rain. But there wasn't, so I camped there. =)

In camp, I discovered that I had another small blister on my foot. I named it Banana. It was too small and deep for me to pop, but this one I felt was a good idea to keep an eye on to make sure it didn't get worse.

And, for the first time on the trail, I didn't see another hiker the entire day. 'Twas a lonely day on the trail....  But I did have a cell signal for most of the day so I was still in touch with Evenstar and Addie. (Pez didn't have a sim card yet that worked with his phone, so he would be out of touch until he reached civilization.)

And... I shattered my longest day on the trail, having completed 21.9 miles according to my GPS. My first 20-mile day of the trail! But I was still about 8 miles from the Motel 6 where I planned to stay. I was anxious to get into town bright and early tomorrow. =)

My campsite for the night! (I'd set up camp on some dirt near where you see my pack.)

Oh, no! Not a fire! Not that I actually saw any evidence of an actively burning fire....

This is definitely a result of mining activity, but I couldn't actually tell if there was an actively-running mine nearby.

Flooding was not a problem today....

Temperatures actually felt quite nice sitting in the shade, but it felt miserably hot in the sun!

Just 10 miles to town! Almost there! Tomorrow....

That small blister near the back of my foot? I named him Banana. =)

Day 3: The Detour

February 25: It was about 1:00 in the morning when I woke up suddenly to a light sprinkle of rain. Drats! I had known this was a distinct possibility, however, and had planned ahead with my location for the campsite and had my tarp, tent stakes, trekking pole, Crocs and a headlamp at the ready. I leaped into action!

First, I wanted to keep all my stuff dry so I spread out the tarp across everything, then quickly staked out the corners. My gear was exposed to the slight sprinkle for probably less than 60 seconds before I got it covered. Staking out the tarp and getting it off the ground took a few minutes more, but I dived back under the tarp still mostly dry. I gave myself a virtual pat on the back for a job well done.

Almost immediately, the rain stopped. Mother nature seemed to be toying with me, and the rain faucets of the sky stayed off the rest of the night. If I realized that it would be so little, I would have just thrown the tarp over myself like a blanket instead of setting it up. Oh, well....

 

And the detour begins!

I soon fell back asleep, secure in the knowledge that if it did start raining again, I could sleep soundly and wouldn't have to wake up again to deal with the matter.

The morning eventually dawned to a cloudy and gloomy day. I ate breakfast, brushed my teeth, and broke down camp. Today was one of my longer days of the trail--about 15 miles--but I didn't linger in camp. I knew the weather forecast called for rain later in the afternoon and I hoped to get as much of the 15 miles done before the rain started. If I was really lucky, maybe I could even finish the day's hike before any rain fell. That would be wonderful!

So... no lingering. No long rest breaks.

My shoulders felt particularly sore at this point. The heavy weight of my pack felt excruciating--more than I would have expected considering how easy the terrain was and how slowly I had been walking. My waist where the waist belt of my pack connected was more than a little sore as well, but it was the shoulders that were the most tender. It was also worse in the morning. Once I got walking, the pain numbed itself a bit, but getting my pack on in the morning--ugh!

Anyhow... I was ready to hit the trail. I only had to cover maybe a quarter-mile until I reached Farm Road 1375 and the start of the detour. Normally, the trail would head north and up and over Conroe Lake, but since the bridge across the San Jacinto River was washed out, I'd be walking primarily on roads and motorbike trails, adding an extra 5 or so miles to the official trail mileage, and walking across Lake Conroe.

FM 1375 was no pleasant walk either. It was a busy, paved road with fast-moving traffic and often times did not include much of a shoulder to walk on. The good news, however, was that it was fast and easy. I trod along at a quick pace, eager to get off the road.

Farm Road 1375 isn't a fun one to walk....

The maps I had included two possible detours. One was longer than the other, so naturally I was inclined to the shorter route, but the shorter route apparently required a small bit of bushwhacking which I had no interest in doing and I decided to do the longer of the alternates. Just because it was shorter in distance did not mean it would be faster! But it would certainly be more difficult! I went with the slightly longer option.

Conroe Lake

That had me turn up to the road to the Gulf Coast Trades Center, which sounds like a shipping empire but seemed to be more of a summer camp for kids as far as I could tell from walking by it, and I didn't see any kids. It was February, though, so maybe the camp wasn't running now?

Along this stretch, the traffic wasn't as busy, but there was still traffic and I heard one car slowing down as it came up from behind me. I rolled my eyes. I just knew they were going to be trouble. I don't know why I thought that, but I suspected the kind of people who often drove this road probably weren't hikers and probably didn't appreciate our presence.

The vehicle was a small, four-door sedan, and the driver rolled down her window. She was a middle-aged women and told me in no uncertain terms that camping was not allowed in the woods there. There was a camp nearby where 11-year old children (children! she repeated, in case I missed it the first time) played.

I got the distinct impression that she thought I was a pedophile. It was also 9:00 in the morning and the idea of setting up camp along such a busy road had never even occurred to me. And frankly, she ticked me off with her wild assumptions and implied accusations.

Gulf Coast Trades Center

"Well, ma'am," I said--deliberately using "ma'am" more as an insult than a sign of respect. "I have no intention of camping anywhere near here. I'm just hiking the Lone Star Trail."

I thought about not telling her what I was doing at all, but I really just wanted her to leave me alone and I figured if she knew I was just passing through with no intention of stopping anywhere nearby, she'd let me go with less of a fuss. I also wanted to give her the finger. Or mess with her in other ways. "Oh, thanks for letting me know that camping wasn't allowed. I'll be sure to be careful in choosing a good hiding place."

Or even tell her all the illegal things that she shouldn't be doing (and wasn't). "Hey, you know, you shouldn't be killing people and burying the bodies in your backyard." If she claimed that she'd never do that, I'd point out, "Well, you looked suspicious. I can't be too careful!"

Anyhow, I stayed polite, never-minding the passive-aggressive "ma'am" I threw at her earlier. I could imagine her reporting me to the police. "He called me ma'am! The scoundrel!"

I continued the hike. The paved road finally turned to gravel which I much appreciated, then turned onto a gravel road that had a barrier to block vehicles which I appreciated even more. At least I didn't have to worry about idiots driving along the road anymore.

I took a quick snack break at this point--I am only human, after all--and it was a pleasant place to rest.

But I soon picked up my pack again and marched onward. I was on a mission to get done with this detour and set up camp as early in the afternoon as possible.

The route soon turned onto a smaller trail, but this one appeared to be used by motorbikes and was badly eroded in places with lots of slick mud and puddles. I often had trouble getting around them without slipping in the mud--very annoying! I couldn't get mad at the bikers that did this, however, since I felt like I was invading their territory with my detour off the main trail, but I sure didn't enjoy it either.

Motorbikes seemed have really tore up this trail!

Then the route kind of reversed itself, turning onto bigger and busier roads as I neared the end of the reroute. First it turned onto a little-used gravel road. Then onto a busy paved road. I did pass a few people actually on foot--but they weren't hikers. They were workers tagging trees with ribbons marking a boundary for cutting the trees.

The last bit of the detour took me back onto a gravel road blocked to vehicles and I finally reached the primary route of the Lone Star Trail again. The detour, thank goodness, was over!

I took another rest here and ate a few snacks. At this point, I would have been happy just to stop anywhere. Getting through the detour had been my primary goal for the day and mission accomplished! But... I needed some water. I continued hiking until I reached a creek with a slightly milky color in it. Not the best-looking water I've ever seen, but at least it wasn't horribly muddy either.

As I was filling up with water, a few light sprinkles started to fall. Yep, I really needed to set up camp soon!

Filling up with water.

I got the water I needed--which took much longer than I preferred since I was treating it--then hit the trail. My guidebook reported some good places to camp not far ahead, so I set out to hit that.

Perhaps 10 to 15 minutes later, I found a decently large and clear area for a campsite. The rain, which had largely held off during the walk, started up again a few minutes before I found the site. If it hadn't been raining, I might have pushed on a little bit more looking for an even better site, but once the rain started, I took the first place I found that would fit me.

I dropped my pack, ripped out the tarp and set it up within a few minutes before diving under it for cover. I was wet--no two ways about it--but at least I wasn't soaking wet. My clothes were wet the to touch, but there wasn't enough water in them to wring it out if I tried.

Under the tarp, I spread out my groundsheet and relaxed. I kept my wet clothing on for the next half hour or so hoping my body heat would help dry it out. There are few things worse in life than putting on a cold, wet shirt in the morning. Eventually I got tired of the wet, clammy clothes and changed into my dry camp clothes.

Safe and slightly wet under my tarp! =)

I had reached camp by 2:30 in the afternoon. I still had a lot of daylight hours to kill. And, for some inexplicable reason, my electronic devices were extraordinarily low on power. My solar-powered charger was completely dead and with the overcast skies all day, I had been unable to recharge any of it. The fact that it was completely dead concerned me a bit. I had started the trail with it fully charged and hadn't used much of it. It shouldn't have been completely dead.

My phone was mostly charged... for now. But I needed the battery to last until I finished the trail nearly a week later. Have you ever tried to use a phone without recharging it for a week?

So I was a little disappointed when I realized that I couldn't pass the time watching Netflix like I often liked to do in the evening. Instead, I mostly read my Kindle. It was still fully charged and at least that device typically lasts for weeks between recharging! I could read it for hours every day and not run out of power for that.

I hadn't seen a single hiker all day on the trail, although with the two alternate routes available, it was possible we could have passed each other going in opposite directions without knowing it. But as far as I knew, I was alone on this trail. Where were all the other hikers?!

So I read a lot. The rain continued all afternoon and into the evening--a steady moderate rain. I cooked dinner later in the evening at the edge of my tarp. And wrote in my journal. And listened to the rain.

Uhhh... okay.... Good to know, I suppose.

Day 105: Off to the Races!

June 20: It didn't rain during the night--thank goodness!--so I never had to move my camp under the pavilion. But I did wake up early and was on the trail hiking by 5:45 in the morning.

The morning was clear and sunny! Beautiful! Afternoon turned overcast, and late in the afternoon it rained for about an hour. But I'm getting ahead of myself.... at least the day started beautiful and I managed to get as many miles in as I could.

The day started off sunny and warm!

It wasn't long before I heard very loud, far off vehicles. It sounded like a car race, and the fact was confirmed when I reached a particular vantage point on the trail and could see cars racing around on some roads in the distance that looked like it could have been a track. The view was brief, but I could hear the noise all day long which got old fast. VROOM! VROOM! Hardly a wilderness experience....

Late in the day, I hit a trail detour. The trail normally passes through the small village of Falls Village, but do to work on a bridge that crosses a creek running out of town, the bridge (and therefore the trail) was closed to traffic. Not a big deal, however, since there was a road walk around it that added about 0.2 miles to the hike.

The road walk took me past the Lime Rock racetrack--the source of all the loud noise I'd been hearing all day--and next to a church that had a register outside for hikers to sign along with a note that water was available from a hose on the side of the building. I'm always in the mood for clean water! =)

So I went to find the hose and met the pastor (I think) who took me inside to fill up from a kitchen sink, and from her I learned that they did benediction for the races. And she'll also show up if she hears emergency sirens, even before she gets a call, because that means that there was a wreck and her services might be needed.

We only chatted for a few minutes, though, before I wandered back to the trail and continued the detour around Falls Village.

The detour reconnected with the main trail on the far side of the Iron Mountain Bridge which was closed for renovations. The trail went back into the woods for a few minutes before coming back out again on a small street when I heard the first sprinkle of rain. Noooo! Rain had not been in the forecast at all today, so it took me something by surprise. Overcast, yes, but not rain!

I stood under a group of trees at the edge of the road, next to one of those crash barriers so cars don't go over the sides of cliffs. I hadn't planned to stop here, but the trees provided some protection from the rain--for the time being--and the crash barrier gave me something to sit on and snack. I didn't know how long the rain would last or how heavy it would be, and I thought it would be a good idea to eat some snacks now while I was still dry and before the rain could work its way through the thick canopy of leaves.

So I was sitting there, on the side of the road, eating some Skittles, when a vehicle pulls out of a driveway and stops next to me, the driver's window going down. Was he going to ask about the trail? Maybe say, "Hey, before it gets too wet, you want to crash in the spare bedroom of my house?" How awesome would that be?

So he stops in front of me and leans out the window a bit saying, "It wasn't supposed to rain today! I have things to do!"

Yeah, okay.... Of all of the things I expected, him complaining about the rain wasn't one of them. And frankly, I wasn't at all sympathetic. It's like complaining to a homeless person when you're dry and indoors about how miserable the rain is. At least you're DRY and INDOORS! *rolling eyes*

"Yeah, well, I'm not too excited about it myself. I have to hike in this weather, and then sleep in it!"

The man nodded, agreeing that that didn't sound appealing, then complained about the rain again before rolling up his window and driving off. I was astonished. Seriously? He's complaining to ME about the rain?

Ideally, I'd have liked to set up camp in the Limestone Spring Shelter, but unfortunately, it was closed for unknown reasons. There wasn't even any warning on the trail--the first time I learned about its closure was from some hikers who'd been heading southbound earlier in the day. If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't have known about the closure until I arrived at the junction for the shelter and saw it taped off with what looked vaguely like police tape (but pink, instead of yellow) and a sign saying that the "area" was closed. No reason why--just that it was closed. Did it burn down? Was it being refurbished? Was there a rock slick between the trail and the shelter that just made the shelter inaccessible? (The shelter was a half-mile off the AT, however, so I wasn't going to walk down to find out! Not while it was pouring rain!)

The nearest shelter to get out of the rain was about 10 miles in either direction and there was no hope I'd get into one of those before dark. Nope, I'd have to set up camp somewhere and sleep under my tarp.

Turns out, there weren't very many places to camp along this stretch of trail. It was rocky, uneven, and with lots of undergrowth that made finding a place for a camp difficult. I continued walking and walking, eventually entering the city limits of Salisbury. The trail didn't go through the middle of town--just skirts around the edge of it--and I wound up finding a flat place just beyond a cemetery but hidden in the woods.

These woods were largely pine trees which left a thick layer of pine needles on the ground--my favorite to sleep on! Feels like a mattress! =) There are not very many places along the AT where I can camp on pine needles. The rain had finally stopped--temporarily, at least--so I didn't feel a huge rush to set up camp in just a few minutes. Tree snot still dropped from trees, however, and it looked like the rain could start up again at any minute, so I didn't want to wait to set up the tarp either.

I looked around and found an area I liked... until I found a needle laying on the ground. I'm not talking about a pine needle, either. I'm talking about the kind people use to inject stuff. And being in the woods at the edge of town, I didn't think it was for injecting medications. Probably some sort of illegal drugs. That gave me a little pause. Is this where drug addicts hang out? I was pretty much IN the town of Salisbury, on ground that was utterly flat and easy to walk on. It wouldn't be a bad place for drug addicts to go if they were trying to find some 'privacy'. I didn't mess with the needle--I certainly didn't want to carry it in my pack for miles on end--but I found another place to camp about a hundred feet away where I didn't see any needles sticking out of the pine needles.

I got my tarp set up, and it wasn't long before I started regretting the location. Every half hour, I could hear some church bells ringing nearby. Those were just annoying!

Later in the evening, a man walked by who was carrying two large duffel bags, one in each hand, plus a giant backpack with a thermos cup swinging wildly on the back of it. He said hi as he passed me but didn't stop to talk. Who was he? Why was he there? He looked like he was planning to spend the night out here like I was, but I'd never seen anyone carrying so much crap out into the backcountry! Two duffel bags and a large backpack?

It soon started sprinkling again, but by then I was dry and warm under my tarp. Let the weather do what it wants--it's not my problem anymore!

The Lime Rock racetrack was certainly making a heck of a lot of noise today!

Detour! The trail is closed ahead, but not to worry--they provided these directions to detour around the closure!

The detour had even been marked with these (temporary) white blazes! Easy to follow! But road walking the entire time....

Heck, the detour is signed better than the regular trail is! The church I stopped at is in the background where the trail turns.

The Lime Rock race track

It's a hiker-friendly church!

The Iron Mountain Bridge was closed for renovations. The AT normally crosses over this bridge, but since it's closed, we had to follow the detour to where we reconnected with the AT here.

Great Falls, just outside of Falls Village

The shelter is closed--but no explanation for why or how long!

Giant's Thumb

Entering the outskirts of Salisbury! (See the white blazes on the telephone pole?)

Passing by a cemetery.... I'd have loved to camp here if it wasn't so exposed!

That can't be a good sign....

Home, sweet, home for the night. The pine needles were wonderful! The loud church bells every 30 minutes... not so much.