Light at the End of the Tunnel

Well, I'm sure the reading audience wants something of the trail and travels in my infrequent posting and not just a one-night tirade, so here i am again today.

Like James Taylor, deep greens and blues are the colors I choose; and New England has been lovely on the whole.

I left Kent CT with multiple ounces in drape netting, which I've pitted against mosquitoes and black flies both under my tarp and the shelters. This has been worth it's weight in gold and yet hardly cost me.

Silver Hill Campsite was a tiny paradise and I slept up in the rafter of the tiny pavilion. Hauling water 3 miles uphill was a small price to pay for camping at Rands View. I had a cute little red-roofed shelter all my own at Glen Brook, and epic rock backdrop the next night. One of the few 20's I happened to wander recently was then to Upper Goose Pond Cabin where I didn't leave til noon the next day on account of swimming and canoeing. This set me up to arrive in Dalton Mass. on the 4th of July, where I got blindsided with icecream and extraordinary picnic, shower, laundry done for me, and a couch to sleep on among the unexpected hospitality of Tom Levardi's "backyard camping" for thru-hikers. I really couldn't have hit things, planned or unplanned, more perfectly.

Little more than a day later I was in Vermont. Absolutely soaked through and through. But in Vermont. So it didn't matter. And whats more, it didnt last. But what did last was the pepperoni issue. Wrecked me for 3 days. You would think that someone who has eaten from among red and white meats for a decade, and has all but certainly ingested residual grease on pizza at some point, could handle a single Vermont-made slice between cheese and crackers and along with the rest of her lunch. Oh but no! Perhaps there was a bit of stomach flu going around that it lasted so long. But who's to say. I'm over it now.

Long Trail hikers are the most recent nuance to the ever changing scenery from Georgia to Maine. Folks out on a near 300 mile thru-hike, half of whom are contemplating following in our footsteps in the near future. Our present paths overlap exactly for 105 miles. 105 quite muddy miles. But it's thick and I dont mind it. Soft footing that sticks to my boots while my feet are dry inside is fine by me.

At the moment I'm on a Zero-and-a-half, resting up for my next stint and accomplishing Part One of Two in readiment for the highcountry not far on the horizon. In the near future is the semi-monumental Killington. In the not too distant future is the infinitely monumental Katahdin.