CDT Day 84 (8/10/23)

Miles 2026 (Red line 288.7)- 2061 (Red line 2323.7) (35 miles)

Verbatim

It was blessedly clear all day with a soft and gentle refreshing breeze. It was the perfect hiking day. The temps were incredible. The morning was wet, yes. And I did accidentally dunk my foot when I tripped rock hopping across a stream. But those are small inconveniences. It’s so clear out that I’m cowboy camping. I’m tired, and expect to sleep very soundly. Last night was not restful. I was cold and conscious of getting wet.

I received trail magic today! I yogi-ed for it… hehe. I had just eaten my lunch, and had eaten more than I should have really. I was walking up a day hiking path, about four miles out from a campground the CDT does not pass, when I saw day hikers and said “You’re day hikers!” and chatted them up immediately (what a pickup line). They were very kind to share with me when I asked. I said that I wasn’t desperate, but was indeed hungrier than I’d expected to be on this section. And that’s the truth! They gave me two pita/chicken/cheese/power green sandwiches, two cheese sticks, a clementine, and a really yummy nut bar. It was awesome. That food really powered my next climb. And it kept me full for a long time. I didn’t eat as much today for dinner as a result. So now I have food for tomorrow! Yesssss…

I keep seeing SOBOs dwindling by. I wonder how long that will last. Several have now commented that they’re “the last of the pack”. But they haven’t been. hah. It’s nice to see them. The trail will be empty without them!

It’s beautiful out here. I’m on a ridge tonight and the wind is gently moving the trees as the sun sets. the last of the sun’s color is in the sky. It’s really nice. Setting up a roof does so much to take away our experience and perception of what’s going on around us…

I’ve been kind of jumpy today. I was scared two different times by Squirrels. I also saw two Mule Deer bucks at a pass. Their antlers are really beautiful. Amazing how fast antlers grow. I also sent a bull Elk dashing down the trail in surprise. He was big! Elk will never cease to amaze me. They seem so exotic to this boy from Maine.

Post Note

Ok. Even though I journaled positively I want you to know I don’t love SOBO season. It’s really irritating actually. But I did enjoy, especially given how lonely my trail was, seeing the FEW SOBOs who would tramp on down the path towards the end of their bubble. When it was twenty SOBOs a day it was annoying. When it was two a day it was quite funny and amusing. In the morning I’d met an older lady. She was a real hype person. She was so excited for me to see the rest of the trail. She told me, and then I promptly forgot, about all the exciting things to see in one section and then another section and then a note about this one watercourse several days away (by her milage; but she said it would only be a few days away by mine and so that’s why she was telling me now). All the information she shared would doubtlessly be erased by my own sets of concerns and interests when I arrived in each of these places. But I nodded and smiled anyways and said I was very excited to be finishing soon. She said it only got prettier up towards Canada.

And a note about storms. One day’s worth of storm is ok. You get wet. You sleep cold. Then the sun comes out and you warm up and dry off and things get better. But one day of storms always threatens the possibility of a following day’s storm. The anxiety of the threat of continuing to be wet in the next day’s weather is the hardest part of experiencing any current storm. Being wet for one day is fine. But each consecutive day’s wetness accumulates into your mood, your body, your gear, and your food. Multi-day storm systems make things really uncomfortable. Thankfully, this time, things dried out. And if the storm passes and things end up drying out quite nicely then you look back at the previous day’s storm with a sort of fondness. Was it uncomfortable while it happened? Yes. But now that the discomfort has passed, this wet and cool morning is helping to ward off the intensity of the oncoming summer day’s heat. The cool wet morning after a storm is “sweater weather”. And sweater weather is the best. That simple difference in temperature, or opportunity to wear different clothes, helps differentiate the parts of the day. It makes the day feel like it has uniqueness and spaces. It makes the day interesting.

When you walk in the rain suddenly your body feels very differently. I for example, start building up this grey oily substance, which I pray to God isn’t something to be worried about, in my crotch. I tell myself it’s an amalgamation of sweat, dirt, grime, urine (because my shorts definitely haven’t been laundered in two months and my dehydrated dribble pee is definitely everywhere), and salt. No matter what it’s made of; it’s gross. Mystery substances arriving in that part of the body is always… disconcerting and unpleasant. The grey oily substance sort of acts as a lubricant? I think? I’m shocked every time I see it and then feel a strong impulse to go wash in a stream. Except it’s raining, and I’m cold, and I don’t want to take the time to bath in a stream when I’m wet and cold. I usually just end up wiping it away with my pruned, numb, and shaky fingers and then flicking or rubbing it onto some tree trunk. Then I start to chafe. Or maybe I was already chafing. I can’t tell if removing the oily grey made things better or worse.

Of course you’d think that when the storm is over and it’s hot again it would be time to take a bath. But, no. When it’s warm and I’m dry I’m relishing the fact that it’s warm and dry and I can make miles. Who has time for a bath!? I’m dry! And, aren’t I not supposed to be taking baths in these water sources anyways? Nobody wants my crotch oily grey in their water source. Of course the oily grey is gone now. Its existential existence based on the state of hydration it can acquire. To take a bath I’ll have to find a moving body of water big enough to wash away my body. And I’ll have to be lucky to find that big moving body of water at just the right time of day when I’m motivated and it’s worth it to actually get in the water. Timing is everything. If it’s noon and the sun is high and hot and I come across a river I’d have to take my shoes off to cross and then I think “well I do have to yard sale all my gear out anyways to dry it off from last night’s storm”, then I’ll get in. If I arrive at that same place at 3:30 when I can already see the afternoon’s cloud formation’s building I’ll pass. May the sweat and body grime return.

I think maybe what I’m trying to communicate in this post can be summarized as follows… 1. It’s gross out there especially when you’re wet. 2. The weather oscillation is something you end up caring a lot about. 3. A lot of your experience of a specific place demands on when and how and why you’re there. 4. Thruhiking is a demanding activity. You don’t, unless you make smaller miles or carry more food, have time to do whatever you want all day. Twenty-five miles aren’t going to hike themselves. It’s vacation. But it’s a working vacation.