CDT Day 76 (8/2/23)
Miles 1824.2 (Red line 2085.2)- 1859.9 (Red line 2120.9) (35.7 miles)
Verbatim
I am so very happy with the mileage accomplished today. It felt good to walk all day. And that seemed surprising to me. It was cloudy and cool, and then even turned into a cold and consistent rain shower! That was freezing, because it wet all the wildflowers blooming in the tall grasses and burn zone. Flowers up to my shoulders, all wet at 10,000 feet with fresh rain water. Talk about brrr. We’ll see when the storm breaks. I seem to have found an acceptable campsite. Hopefully I rest well and warm.
I must have passed 20+ SOBOs today. It’s bubble time for sure. Kind of funny to experience. Most of them have really only begun. There about at the end of NM by NOBO standards. Not far at all.
By lucky chance I saw a Moose today. A young bull with its sheds just starting to come in. It only had the beginning of its paddles. It was amidst a stream bed surrounded by tall brush when I chanced a glance to my left and saw it. It saw me immediately. Sixty yards. We stared at each other. After twenty seconds he started to turn to go up the slope. I watched him go! I’d just met two SOBOs. Met another two immediately after, and passed six more within five minutes. That the Moose hadn’t been scared off already was really lucky for me. Sorry to the others for moving the Moose!
I also saw a beautiful Ptarmigan with five chicks. It was in the trail amidst the incredibly tall wild flowers during the rain storm. It was sheltering the chicks under its puffed body; clearly better able to resist the wet and cold. When I got too close it abandoned its chicks super fast. haha. It ran down the path. The chicks looked frazzled and a bit wet in the storm, despite their mother’s cover. I took the long, wet, grassy way around.
I also heard the baying of sheep and the howls of sheep dogs this evening. I’m in the sheep experiment lands!
I also cannot handle eating dairy. Eating my cheese today has left me farting storms and with stomach cramps. I’m worried breakfast essentials might also be causing this…
I dreamed about cooking French toast for Daniel and my grama today.
Two other things. My shoes tied to my pack squeaked today in the rain. They bumped each other and squeaked (I now had two pairs, four shoes, hanging off my pack)! And, I left my new Smart Wool socks at camp this morning. Facepalm.
Post Note
The rest of my family was in Scotland together. I remember being invited and declining. But, it was a bummer of a trip to miss because my brother was doing his own walking trip. He’d begun a pilgrimage, (should I call it that?) a walk, of St. Cuthbert’s Way. It’s maybe 60 miles (80?) long and runs from the highlands out to the coast where there’s a fancy ruined monastery. It appears to me to be a sort of glamor walk. I don’t mean for that to sound derogatory. Glamor is great! But there’s a big difference between something like the Camino de Santiago in Spain and walking the Rockies in the United States. I haven’t walked any of these more cultured trails. So I don’t really know what that difference is. But here’s a stab.
My brother and I briefly called as I was making my way up the last climb of the day. He said something like, “I have a new respect for what you do everyday”. Heck yeah. Thanks Jonathan for taking a step into my world. I felt so seen when you said these words. It was unforgettable to have you grasp and respect this crazy thing I do. I don’t know why I do it, but maybe now you have an idea.
He described being blasted by rain all day on a 18 mile day. He was tired and in his hotel for the night. I was on mile 35, was also sopping wet, and would make camp in the rain that evening before drinking some cold hot chocolate. It was just a taste Jonathan. Try it when the only heat source you have access to is internal.
Those Ptarmigan were beautiful. My passing around the Ptarmigan so that the hen didn’t abandon her chicks, even if for just a moment, illustrates the sort of compassion ethic thruhiking can (should) breed in its participants. When you’re outside all day in your body you have an opportunity to realize just how much space you take. It becomes shockingly apparent that you, as a human, take up A LOT of space. This is true when you’re in a tent and on your feet. Everything else sort of revolves its pace around you. We’ve made sure to only keep around, with any sizable number, the animals which rotate in our orbit. You can realize this when you’re out there. And then it becomes shockingly shocking when you go home and sleep in a house. You take up A LOT more space at home than you do on trail. So the idea that I would walk through the freezing brush one more time and lower my body temperature as droplets of frigid water coursed across my body, soaked my clothes, and clung to my pack is really a simple thing. But that simple choice evidences a disposition which most of us are sorely lacking.
Maybe a way to draw a homebound simile to the inconvenience I sacrificed would be to reference an animal raiding your home garden. Instead of getting upset that a Deer ate your tomato you could feel proud that your partnership with the resilient plant did in fact feed someone. It just wasn’t you. Who were you to claim that tomato, that piece of trail, anyways? Maybe the plant had other plans for it. And if you’re tired of the Deer just bring back the Wolf. Then your tomato can feed a Deer AND humanity’s best friend. Now wouldn’t that be special. You could listen to the Wolf howling in the night and hear, “I like my venison with acidic notes of tomato”.