Rocked

I planned ten hours of hiking today, expecting to stop at far less -- but there were no obvious ways better than getting out on the Trail and going as far as I could go. Carrying extra water made it even more of a challenge, even more than the notorious rock scree covering or embedded in this section of the AT which lived up to its billing as tedious and slow going.

Very happy to have my heavy Vasque™ boots on. I could still feel the rock edges I stepped on and winced every time my boot toe did not quite clear another stone -- but I did not want to imagine how that would feel in trail runners, or even the ultralight boots.

One of the young southbounders was not fazed, though. “Ice” chatted with me a bit in the evening, explained that her trail name recalled some time she spent with her ankle packed in ice, and also, her boyfriend’s trail name is Soda, so, you know ….

We happened to step out on the trail at the same time this morning, but I reminded her of my trail name (“Snail”) and suggested she go on ahead. After a few minutes, she looked back to give me a cheery farewell and strolled away at more than half again my pace.

Several local hikers were on the Trail, some of whom were doing what was taking me two daya as a day hike. Dock shoes, club casual slacks, and a couple of ten ounce water bottles … I suppose I should have said something, but carrying those stone tablets down the mountain gets tiring after a few decades.

With three miles to go, my energy fading, and Wind Gap to cross (400’ down, 400’ up), plus no campsites ahead, I  had to decide. Struggle up the slope and camp on the ridge, or come off the trail for the night? I chose to climb out of the Gap and bivouac at the top rather than walking into town for a discount motel room and dinner at a place named “Beer Designs” (Here’s a measure of how priorities change; given the hour, a key factor was that I would have to climb back up the mile from town.)

While I was counting myself up the switchbacks, mind struggling over wailing matter, I heard someone behind say, “Excuse me, Mister Snail, may I pass by?”

Mister Snail? I turned around and exclaimed “Ice! How did you get behind me?”

“Well, you know, that last bit was pretty tiring, so I thought I would go into town and buy some resupplies …” she paused and put on a guilty smile, “and then l thought I might have a coffee, so I did.” Her look turned defiant, don't you dare tell me that a true thru hiker wouldn't do that!

“A good idea, yes?” Didn't account for three hours it would have taken for my to get ahead of her, though.

“At, you know, the Dunkin Donuts store?”

“Of course! And then they have fine sandwiches there, and smoothies … and even ...donuts?”

“Oh, they looked delicious, but I didn’t have any of those! I had two of the big pretzels instead, and then I was ready for the Trail again.”

“Well, please give my regards to everyone in you tramily, I’m too wornout to make it to the shelter tonight. I'm going to stop and bivouac at the top.” Exchanging good wishes, we parted ways as she flew up the slope I was forcing my legs to climb, her trail runners still in excellent condition.

Not likely to see any of them again.