Sunday, June 28 9:10 pm 18.5 mi
AT 825.8 Spy Rock campsite → AT 844.3 Stealth Site
Weather: Hot, humid, sunny, muggy – even during the easy stretches I was soaked in sweat
Trail Conditions: Rough. The uphills and downhills, big as they were, weren’t overly steep (lots of switchbacks). Lots of rocks – reminded me of the stretch in Georgia on March 20
My Condition: Physically, felt pretty good after yesterday’s big day. It was a bleh kind of day emotionally though – heart just didn’t feel totally in it today
Despite the incredible, soft, grassy campsite, last night sucked. Maybe I’m just a grumpy old man in a 31 year old body, but I was annoyed when everyone had their own personal speaker playing music during the sunset. I was even more annoyed when I could hear the music bumping from the campsite at the far end at about 10:30. I was ready to scream when, at 1:00 in the morning, someone started playing a damn pan flute or recorder or something. The wind is whipping, but the culprit must have been perfectly positioned to make my night a living hell. WHY??? Maybe I just don’t get music. Or MAYBE I am capable of seeing how my actions affect other people and, being at a decently crowded public campsite, if I for whatever reason desired to play the flute I’d do it at a time when EVERY person there wasn’t trying to sleep. My earplugs didn’t help much, and they didn’t seem to get the hint when my (and other) flashlights shone their way. Jerk. Met Scarecrow at the Priest – I’ve been on his heels since the last shelter in the Smokies, and it seems we’ve been leapfrogging one another. Read some of the confessions in the shelter log there, and I had to stop reading them I was getting so annoyed. “I pooped in three water sources, including this one.” “I made love on the Springer Mountain plaque so everyone who kisses or takes a picture with it has touched where my bare, sweaty butt has touched.” “I leave my trash in fire rings at every shelter I pass.” I’ve met some good people out here, but I was rather uncomfortable reading these trail confessions not knowing which of these things were real accounts and which were tall tales. Beautiful sunset with vibrant blues, yellows, and golds at a SOLO stealth site tonight.
Post Trail Analysis
What a salty entry! It’s interesting – thinking back on the whole trail experience, I don’t remember having many truly bad days. I do remember this particular day being a rough one – the lack of sleep from the previous night due to the rather inconsiderate actions of others, the (true or untrue) outlandish entries in the Priest’s “confession” log, the humidity, what felt like a day of nothing but climbing and descending. In truth, I was upset over the previous night, and let that color my view of the rest of the day. It’s like pushing a rock down a mountain, it just keeps gaining momentum. I DIDN’T focus on the positive things from the day, like receiving a piece of a section hiker’s block of gouda cheese at the Priest, or meeting a grinning ear-to-ear Gumby. I was thankful to have a stealth site all to myself, across the trail from an outcropping of rocky cliffs from which I watched the sun set, able to pick out chimney and camp fires by their smoke far down in the valley.
Yorumlar