Sunday, August 30 8:25 pm 12.4 mi
AT 1782.8 Brackett Brook → AT 1795.2 Jeffers Brook Shelter
Weather: Rain overnight, but enough wind to completely dry it by the time I broke camp. Cool, partly sunny day
Trail Conditions: Decent number of day hikers this morning. Shelter is PACKED – most people I’ve seen at one time since my first days on trail in Georgia way back when. Tons of camping space, so we still feel quite isolated however
My Condition: Right knee sore, hiker hunger fluctuating – right now not super hungry. PUMPED for the Whites!!!
My entries of late have been shorter – not because there is less going on. Quite the contrary, in fact. The conversations are getting deeper. The friendships are incredible – the same way camp friends develop faster than normal friendships because of sheer proximity and large amounts of shared time together, backpacking with a trail family actually cranks it up a notch, as you’re dealing with 3-4 other people as opposed to 8, or 80. Each state has gotten more beautiful than the last (except PA). I’m just flat tired when I get to camp. Some nights I don’t feel like writing. Some days I don’t write, and some days I do the entries the next day. Some nights there just isn’t much going on in my head – no profound thoughts, no life changing revelations, no vidid recreations of the day – just peaceful, blissful, exhausted quiet. Looking at some of my pre-trail entries, that quiet headspace is a beautiful thing. Yesterday, I was hiking down a steep hill in the rain. A SOBO hiker was coming uphill, and I followed proper etiquette of stepping off to the side (not an easy feat here) to let the uphill hiker maintain momentum. This hiker had an umbrella pulled low over his head and was totally in his own little world, because when I said “hey! How’s it going?” he kept his head down, maintained pace, and didn’t say anything, grunt, or show any visible sign of acknowledgment. I’ve been there – you have miles to go, you’re wet and miserable, and you’d rather not stop and get cold talking to a complete stranger who is headed the opposite direction. To ignore someone completely and not acknowledge their existence, however, is rather rude, as is having that little awareness of your surroundings while hiking with a wide umbrella, or acting as if the whole trail belongs to you. Every person we meet, everyone we cross paths with, has a unique story to tell. Even when we don’t have the time or desire to stop and listen, at bare minimum everyone deserves a level of respect, and hikers should maintain a basic level of awareness of their surroundings. Maybe I’ve been in the woods for awhile, not having much social contact or time for personal hygiene, but I haven’t forgotten my basic manners! Went to the Greenhouse off of NH 25c today, a bar and grill. Mozzarella logs, pepperoni pizza, a PBR, and a Coke. Delicious! Hummingbird built a fire for us and we watched a couple episodes of Crazy Delicious that Puddles had downloaded in town.
Post Trail Analysis
Saw Wanderer again at the Greenhouse. This was a really cool bar, with incredible homemade food and a train set looping around overhead. I ordered the last of the mozzarella logs (a hot ticket item, as countless patrons after me were sadly left disappointed), and they truly were logs. Blue had an upset stomach and got a shot of pickle juice for the road. I got some of my favorite Hummingbird pictures at camp tonight as she stands, arms raised and channeling the primal fury of the elements, with the sun’s evening rays catching the smoke from her fire. There was a Scout troop at the campsite, as well as quite a few weekenders and section hikers.
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