CDT Day 93 (8/19/23)
Miles 2222 (Red line 2570.4)- 2252 (Red line 2600.5) (30.1 miles)
Verbatim
Three months in their fullness… 31 x 3. I can remember early on in this trail, as I’ve experienced on other trails as well, thinking about what it would be like to arrive in the month of August. It feels so far away when one is walking in May. Well, now August is here and guess what. I’m sheltering from a thunderstorm at 6:20pm. It’s a steady rain, but not a downpour. I sheltered before it really got started so only my back is wet. I’m warm and am writing and even have a book to read. It’s about a bear. :)
The thunder had been rumoring for some time. I could hear it in the distance. But now it’s really giving its best. It’s fairly calm, but rumbles over 5-10 seconds at a time. This storm may take some time to pass. Just now a flash of lightning followed shortly by a crackling thunder which carries on. A light wind blows. The dampness of the earth brings forth lots of smells. I think it smells like cinnamon rolls. No, that’s not possible. But I am hungry and am missing home. I’d like to go to the Nezinscott Farm and order a cinnamon roll…
Another flash. This time the thunder delayed maybe twenty seconds before sounding? Is the storm moving off? The rain continues. Another flash! More thunder. It’s concerning to take on storms with my gear. I’m dry, make no mistake. But this is a light storm and I found a good platform. My carbon fiber trekking pole, which cannot be thrown out, is split in to four vertical pieces; each representing a fourth of the cylindrical pole. Under too much pressure, caused by the tightening of my tarp’s guide lines, the pole bends. This bending released the tightness of my tarp, which compromises my ability to stay dry. I strike a careful balance to remain in good shelter.
The milage today was easy, and thankfully quite cool, on account of these storm clouds coming up. I found myself wearied not by the climbing but by the descents where my heavy backpack and hot shoes would make my feet quite sore. I slipped several times today as well. The asphalt walking really did a number on the tread of my shoes. And my bag is quite heavy now. And the plastic takes up so much space. Even with little food and water my bag feels weighty and I’m concerned about how I’ll fit in 5 1/2 days of food for the Bob.
The storm has passed and things are calm. But I’m staying put. I have dry ground under my mat and that’s much warmer than wet ground. :) I hope to rest well and dry tonight. I can still hear thunder in the distance. I don’t have much water… Only 2/5 of a liter.
Post Note
I’m always trying to rationalize a reason to hike these trails again. I would, if a responsible set of circumstances arrived, hike the CDT again in a heartbeat. No question. One of the ways my internal psych tries to rationalize a re-hike is by belittling me but with an undertone of hubris. I can hear a part of me saying while reading this journal entry is, “You didn’t really hike the CDT. Not in a pure form. Imagine if you had good gear. Imagine if you didn’t have trash. Imagine if you were well. You would totally have been happier and flowed”. It’s true. It would have been better if things had been better. But they weren’t better, and I still walked. So, way to go Andrew.
Contrast this evening’s storm with storms I’ve written about previously. This evening, on day 93, I was able to make camp before the storm’s gift had saturated the ground. That meant I could camp on warm, isolatory, dry pine duff. That meant a comfortable time resting easy beneath an earthly orchestral showing. It was awesome! I read a book. I journaled. But, I did have to eat dinner, rest, sleep, and then walk the next morning on a total of what was less than a liter of water. When you’re sunburnt and walked all day that’s a something. I found myself, at the time I got moving the next morning, having rested for something like twelve or thirteen hours.
Raider and Pitch, two of my friends from the CDT in 2022, had a 12 & 12 rule. They moved for twelve hours a day and they rested for twelve hours a day. Raider and Pitch are both in their 50’s. One worked in the marines. The other worked in the Arctic. They may be tough dudes, but their bodies haven’t escaped the ravages of their respective professions. Raider, for example, doesn’t have a shoulder blade. So he synchs his pack on just one side. Anyways. They rest for a long time each day! But they also move for twelve hours each day. That’s at least 24 miles every day. It could easily be something more like 30 miles each day. At max effort it could be 36 each day. All those young bloods crushing fifties only to get hammered in town the next day. They’re only just getting sober when Raider and Pitch roll up having spent less money, having spent more time outside, having paced their bodies, having not destroyed their livers. The 12 & 12 rule is a good one. So I guess it was already to camp for so long. I enjoyed taking it easy.