15: south Wilcox shelter to Great Barrington

Last night, as dark was settling in, Joanne arrived. We heard her heavy footsteps and then a sonorous voice asked, in serious monotone, “well how many’s in this one?” Bent and I looked at each other, and Aquaman peered down from the loft. There are two shelters at this turnoff, so we assumed she had stopped at the other one first. 
“Just three of us,” Bent replied. 
“Huh.” She said. “Well I guess it’s all full.” 
“Oh no,” Bent said, “there are two upper bunks left and plenty of space in the loft.” 
“Well I can’t get up there,” she replied, sounding a bit like eeyore. Bent offered to move to an upper bunk and let her have his lower bunk, and she accepted. She explained that she was a (and here she paused to read her name tag, as she wasn’t quite sure what she was) shelter caretaker with the Massachusetts ATC, that she used to be a caretaker at Upper Goose pond Cabin, and for a while she was even a Ridge Runner. But just now she was trying to get back into backpacking. 
There are some people of whom it can be said that they are made of heavy New England stock. Joanne is one of those people. Every step she took shook the giant timber frame of the shelter; when she finally fell asleep, she woke me with her snores. Her deep voice carried across the woods. Her questions were direct and to the point, and she did not joke. When we asked about Great Barrington, where she lived, she considered the question and replied with a list of every restaurant, including those that were closed, and every business we might consider stepping into. And then she started on Kent, Connecticut! 
A large tree limb fell near the shelter. Joanne lamented that she didn’t have her saw with her. In the morning, on my way to the privy, I saw her steadily tearing the branch apart with her bare hands. 
Joanne managed to stomp around in Crocs, generally a very quiet shoe. 
Joanne is now legend. 
Bent and I woke and decided to hike the 12 miles to Great Barrington as quickly as we could. I was continually struck by what a beautiful morning it was. The light filtered through the trees like something in a film. I mean, it did that because of the excessive humidity, but it was still absolutely stunning. I am in love with Massachusetts. 


Perhaps we should have slowed down, too. There were several large slabs of rock, and on one, my feet just slid right out from under me. It looked like a cartoon banana peel slip. I landed hard on my rump. The hike became a little more difficult. 


And then bent fell. 


And then we both fell a few more times. 

We contemplated Icy Gulch but there was no ice and it was not particularly icy. 


We slid on our bottoms down an entire rock face. A happy face blaze awaited us. 


The longest meadow walk ever happened. 


And then we hitched into town. It was actually two hitches– the first only took us a mile or two, so we went to the coldest gas station of my life and got cokes and a quick snack. Then we hitched again to McDonald’s. We’d spent the last 8 miles alternating between making up a theme song for Joanne and talking about McDonald’s, so we ordered a lot of food. 

We ate it all. 
My friend Maureen and her son River came and picked us up soon after. I knew Maureen back when I lived in Nashville, and she’s been a great friend to me for a long time. She lives in Great Barrington now, and switching my section to go SOBO meant that I’d get to see her, which was a huge motivating factor in my decision. 
We drove out to her house on a pond, and showered and did laundry. After some time, we went back to town for resupply and Chinese takeout, and we spent the rest of the night enjoying a huge storm dry and full and comfortable in her house. It was a good night. I mean, I can’t sit comfortably, but I ate a lot and I got to see Maureen and River and rest quite a bit and rehydrate a little and feel clean for a few hours. And that’s certainly worth a lot. 



Tomorrow Bent and I are aiming for an 8 mile day. The heat wave is still brutal, so we don’t really want to push it. 
But here’s a surprising fact: I’ll be out of Massachusetts the day after that. 
Miles: 11.7

Trip total: 216.3

MVP: gas station cherry Coke

LVP: slippery rock #1 

14: upper goose pond to south Wilcox shelter

Bent woke me up at 12:45am. We picked our way down to the dock, and sat chatting as we watched the sky. In twenty minutes the clouds started rolling in, but we’d also seen an incredible number of meteors over the pond. We walked back to the cabin and I fell fast asleep. 
I woke up and went down for breakfast, seeing that Peggy, the caretaker had just started. Bent and I offered to help and were immediately put to work cleaning blueberries and delivering pancakes and coffee to the other hikers. We ate last, and it was still delicious. 


We hiked out around 9. 


The day was miserably hot. I started thinking “wow, I could really go for some trail magic right about now.” What do you imagine happened?


That’s right. Trail magic. And I’ll be damned if if wasn’t the best watermelon I’ve ever had. 


There was also a little roadside stand where I bought a packet of Oreos. They were out of cokes and gatorades. Evidently two young kids raise chickens and sell fresh eggs and other items to hikers, and also provide a free library. They let hikers sign their names in chalk, too. Hikers love to sign their names. 


There are all sorts of chances for hikers to rip each other off. I could have eaten that entire cooler of watermelon. I could have stolen all of that money. Any hiker could have, and probably has at some point. But if happens rarely enough that people keep on providing trail magic and keep operating on the honor system. I like that. I like that we can still trust each other. 


Bent and I hiked the last several miles together, chatting about nothing much in particular. We hoped to outrun the storm we could feel pressing down on us in the air; we were practically swimming through the humidity. But the bottom fell out when we were a mile and a half short of the shelter. I let the rain wash the sweat and bug spray and dead mosquitos off of me. Salt ran into my eyes. We began to question if the shelter even existed, it felt like such a long mile and a half. 


But as you know, all hills crest and all shelters eventually have a turn off, and we made it. The sun was popping out, so I set out my wet things to dry and got down to the business of eating. Tomorrow is great barrington, and I aim to travel with an empty food bag. 
I’d love to have some tidy little lesson for you on this entry, but here’s the truth: I don’t think everything I experience can really be summed up in these entries. The misery and elation and joy; the little interactions with passing hikers; the stupid conversations over eight miles of trail; the way every single meadow with wild flowers still makes me feel. And laying in the shelter while a thunderstorm moves out, my tired muscles aching, belly full, and a good book waiting for me and my head lamp. 
Yesterday, I passed a NOBO who said, “hey! You look familiar! Were you doing sections down in Tennessee earlier this year?” He turned out to be Turtle, who id camped with on a section. I’m hundreds of miles away from home and I still find people I know up here. 
Miles: 15.6

Trip total: 204.6

MVP: watermelon 

LVP: last 1.8 miles 

13: Kay wood to upper goose pond cabin 

Last night, the NOBOs were talking about how SOBOs are good for nothing, except maybe some information, and then they’re worse than insects, just vermin on the trail. 
I closed my eyes and put in my earplugs and slept. 
And this morning I left without eating breakfast. I stopped about three miles later, at Harmon hill. I picked a few blackberries to go with my breakfast bars and beef jerky. 


Gonzo had told me, back in January, that I would love hiking Massachusetts. He was right. The miles slipped by. 


Soon I was at Washington Road, where the cookie lady lives. I decided to wait for Bent, the south bounder from Kay Wood who I’d met back at Peru Peak when I was going NOBO with carpenter. 


I sat and waited, and eventually Bent and Tater, a NOBO, walked out of the woods at the same time. We all three headed down the road to the cookie lady’s house. 
I bought a coke and a snickers and we started picking blueberries. Despite the fact that some NOBOs think SOBOs are vermin, when you go to upper goose pond cabin, it is the duty of the SOBOs to stop at the cookie lady’s house and pick and buy blueberries. You then carry them the 11 miles to the cabin so that everyone can have blueberry pancakes the next morning. The cabin has a caretaker who makes pancakes, but there are only blueberry pancakes if there are SOBOs who pick blueberries. 


We had a nice time together, and then headed out for the last 11 miles. The day got hotter. Much hotter. Sweat dripped…everywhere. 


I crossed the turnpike and made the last climb, telling myself I’d be in the water by 4:30. 


Well, I was. I made it to the cabin, claimed a bunk, spoke to the caretaker, and headed for the pond. It started raining as I stood in the water but I didn’t care. I scrubbed my hair and my body and felt the sweat start to un cake. Ugh I was so disgusting. 
Bent showed up as I was drying off on the porch. We cooked dinner with some other folks and a sectioning family, then went back on the dock and did some dockside yoga. 


I read on the porch, and we made plans to wake up for the meteor shower. 
It’s hot and stuffy and humid and the mosquitos up here are AGGRESSIVE. I smell absolutely terrible. My toes are numb. But I have no idea what day it is or if I’ll finish on time and I don’t care. I know I can make it to Boston from anywhere. Tomorrow I’ll just walk south. And the next day I’ll do the same thing. I’m slowly learning to give up stressing, a little, and just embrace everything that’s going on now. 


Tomorrow I’ll have blueberry pancakes and then I’ll walk south. 
Miles: 17.6

Trip total: 189

MVP: coke (coca cola)

LVP: so much sweat

12: Wilbur clearing to Kay wood shelter 

It was raining when I woke up. Sunshine and Skye had told me it would rain all morning, so I figured I might as well get going. 

I made the climb up Mt Greylock in the rain. I sat in the Thubderbolt warming shelter for a while, warming up. 

Rain jacket was clearly effective. 


There wasn’t much to see. 
I hiked on, and on, and on. It eventually stopped raining. The day warmed up…rather dramatically. I stopped in a gas station for some food and batteries (for what I thought was a dead headlamp but it turns out it wasn’t; thanks headlamp). I had a nice chat with a NOBO and then headed out. 


It was hot and sweaty and I wasn’t quite sure of where I was going to end up tonight. I sat down to look at the numbers. And then I hiked on. 


I made it to Kay Woods shelter around 7. One SOBO here- I’d met him with carpenter at Peru peak. The rest of the shelter is full of NOBOs. Tomorrow is the cookie lady and upper goose pond cabin. 
I love Massachusetts. I would write more, but New England has tons of little free libraries and I picked up a GOOD book today that I’m dying to read. So I’m going to read it. Thanks for being so generous, New England!
Miles: 23.5

Trip total: 171.4

MVP: phone call to my older sister. My nephew is loving kindergarten!!

LVP: fell down today and rolled ankles a few times. Pretty clumsy. 

11: Congdon shelter to wilbur clearing shelter

Somehow it got cold. I woke up shivering, wishing I’d put on my leggings. It motivated me to get moving quicker. I said goodbye to Mississippi and headed out. 

I’d asked around at the shelter last night if anyone knew Danger, Brew, or Red Dragon, my trail family from Virginia in May. I knew from what Stormtrooper had told me that they should be right around this area, but I wondered if they were just north of Bennington. Tapeworm had told me that he knew red dragon, but he thought they were a day ahead. That would mean I’d missed them. I thought he was wrong, but had no basis for that. 
I though about texting Danger and asking, but decided to see what the trail had in store for me. 


I hiked on. 
Beaver ponds and a long lunch break later, the day was shaping up to be warm, but nice. 


I was headed down a hill, lost in my thoughts about who knows what, when a NOBO stepped aside for me. I started to say thanks, then stopped. 


For months, I’ve envisioned the moment I run into my friends on the trail. Would they be happy to see me? Would they recognize me? I knew I would run up to them, and hug them, and probably cry. 
The moment I recognized Brew, I stopped and bounced on the balls of my feet, jumping in place. “BREW!!” I yelled. I ran to him and we hugged around our packs. 
We sat and he ate while we waited for danger and red dragon. He filled me in on the past few months, and I drank in every moment. 
An hour passed, and they didn’t come. We asked another NOBO where they were. “Just chilling at the state line.” 
Eventually we heard red dragon’s laugh. Brew gave a hooty-hoo and RD answered. I heard Danger talking. I popped around the corner yelling “well y’all sure are slow!!” And they came running to me. 
It was everything I’d ever imagined. The excitement of seeing them, the relief that they’d missed you too, the joy of seeing for yourself how beautiful and healthy and strong they look. And they DO look beautiful and healthy and strong! All three of them. Brew looks like a Viking pirate. Danger should probably start a fitness channel. And RD is ready for leading man opera parts. No wasting away for this crew– the trail agrees with them. 
We had our joyful reunion, and every scenario I’d imagined was exceeded. I only wish stick and Stormtrooper could have been there too. 


Eventually I had to go south, though, and they had to go north. We said our goodbyes and promised to see each other, and hiked on. 
I hiked with the biggest smile on my face. And crossed into Massachusetts. That moment just convinced me, more than ever, that my flip flop was the right decision. 


A rock garden, a road walk, and a climb up Mt Williams put me to the shelter. I had dinner with Sunshine and Skye, a flip flopper and a LASHer, and am ready for bed with a huge grin on my face. 


Miles: 17.1

Trip total: 147.9

MVP: dangers Rangers (danger, brew, and RD)

LVP: heading south (but I have more adventure awaiting me!!)

10: Hanover, NH TO Bennington, VT to Congdon Shelter (SOBO)

Honeybuns and I both started waking up as the sun came in through the small windows in the church library. We were a little slow moving, but we eventually found motivation to pack up. We left a note for the church and stood outside for a hitch back in to town.

We were fortunately in a school zone, so everyone had to slow down and stare at our lovely, innocent faces and long, stuck out thumbs. We got a ride quickly. An older woman, probably in her mid 70s, pulled over. She had neat, tidy grey hair and was listening to NPR in her neat, tidy sedan. We explained that we had stayed at the church and just needed a ride back into town. She let us in and we drove off.
She asked us about the trail, and told us that she hadn’t picked up hitchhikers since her kids were in college. Back then, she said, it had been safer, and everyone had done it. Her son had hitchhiked from British Columbia back to New England. We had a lovely ride, and she dropped us off right in town.
A quick stop in CVS for more alcohol swabs ended up with the pharmacist giving them to me for free. More kindness.
Back to Lou’s for another breakfast and more story swapping with Honeybuns.


And then off to the Hop for one last tour of the art before my bus.


We said goodbye, and promised to meet up for a section this fall.
I caught the (free!) bus to White River Junction. Once there, I waited for my train.


$17 later, I was on the Vermonter 55. From Brattleboro to the Brattleboro bus station where I spent a tense few hours waiting for another bus with a different section of New England. I learned about different DCF caseworkers, Crazy Sue, sis’s new stroller, and the man across from me had a huge hole in the crotch of his pants. They all somehow knew each other (two of them were sisters?).


The (free!) bus came. From there I transferred to a different (free!) bus at a grocery store. And on this last bus, I asked the bus driver if he could drop me off at the trail head. He said sure, no problem.
15 minutes later, he pulled off at the Bennington trail head, and I stepped off with a thanks and my backpack, crossed the road, and headed south. My flip flop section had started.
I walked up the stone steps, grateful for every minute I’d ever done on a stair stepper.


And then smooth sailing. I considered tenting on a mountain, to watch the meteor shower again, but decided I wanted at least another mile or two, so I pushed on to the shelter.
And I’m glad I did. I had fun talking to joyride and Mississippi. Joyride had a great backstory for his trail name, involving a hitch in Erwin, TN, a stolen car, an arrest, and white supremacists in jail. Mississippi gave me a contact at the southern end of Connecticut.
The trail is full of surprises. Who knew that carpenter’s tempter tantrum (and the more I consider it, the more I think it was a temper tantrum) would have given me a great zero with the NOBOs, and this incredible flip? I learned to navigate the public transportation system on New England (sort of). I sat in a terrifying bus station for hours with people I never would have encountered in any other way.
Back when I worked at the church, the pastors there first really taught me grace for people in circumstances I couldn’t imagine. Beyond pity or judgement. Sitting in the bus station, I was grateful for those lessons; here I was, smelling worse than anyone else. I am still privileged in many ways– the nutrition and care I had growing up will always be reflected in my bones and face, in my height, and in my skin; I looked different in some ways. But in other ways, I was somehow transient. We were connected by our dependence on the public transportation system (although, again, there is a system of trail angels and shuttles I could have called if I needed to, and I retained privilege).
Endless grace and comfort for the people who wait hours in hot, tiny boxes for a bus. Endless grace for the bus drivers who joke on the radios and turn around for a late passenger and know all the gravel driveways by heart. Endless grace for the DCF caseworkers who are talked about. Endless grace for the police officers canvassing the area for someone; cell phones came out as soon as the cops drove up and everyone started calling people. “I don’t know who they’re looking for! They’re showing everyone some picture.”
There was a little girl with her mother, and her school project, in the bus station. They bought a Pepsi and a Sunkist and they talked about school and she watched me read and they talked about Crazy Sue and Sis with the new stroller asking for a cigarette and then they left when the police came, wanting to get out before the cops came inside the bus station. She pushed her hair out of her eyes like my little sister used to, when she was a little girl who liked to wear dresses with pockets. And Sis came in with her new yellow stroller and her boy, he’s two now, and he put his chubby little arm up over his eyes to keep the sun out of them while she smoked outside with Pop. Jess left earlier because someone was going to come by looking for rent money that she didn’t have, so she and her boyfriend were going to the shelter, she guessed, is what she told Pop when he loaned her a dollar for a soda. When the woman came by asking for Jess, Pop lied and said he hadn’t seen her. Maybe she was up at the bar?
And Sis and the boy and I got on the same bus, along with the man who talked to himself and said the bus station was like the Wild Wild West. The boy ate cheese its and Sis got frustrated, but a man was at a gravel driveway to help her with the stroller.
And the man who talked to himself fell asleep.
And as I’m laying here on my foam sleeping pad in the woods, thinking about all of these lives I heard so much about today, I wonder what they thought about me– that stranger, on the bench, with the backpack. The one who got off the bus and disappeared into the woods. Or did they even spare a thought for me, when they were going about their lives?
Miles: 4.3

Trip total: 130.8

MVP: breakfast sandwich

LVP: right knee

9: a zero in hanover

I woke up and headed out of the woods, back in to town. I had arranged to meet Honeybuns at the art center for breakfast, so we walked over to Lou’s a cafe that has free donuts for hikers. We sat at the counter with our packs and stared at the menu. I ordered all the foods that popped into my head.
I started with my free crueler (aka a twist donut)– maple glazed. Honeybuns informed me that the crazy tubes I’d seen tied around trees along the AT were for maple syrup. I’d figured it was ridiculous property boundaries that made no logical sense.


The donut was top 3, maybe top 2. It was delicious.
Next came my muffin, warm and fluffy with giant fresh blueberries bursting inside of it. I died.
And finally, an omelette and a pancake and home fries. I stuffed my face and we shared trail stores and food stories and laughed while we ate.
Full and sated, we walked over to the DOC and waited while our electronics charged. the Count and Sunny came in, and we exchanged stories about last night. We laughed at the awards along the wall, and sat around lazy. Eventually Honeybuns and I walked down to CVS for me to buy bug spray and itch eraser and snacks.
We waited for my bus…and waited and waited and waited. A consultation with the Hanover Inn valets confirmed there was no weekend bus. Thanks google. Back to the DOC and an official zero for me!


Wok man, Sunny, Count, and Honeybuns were all taking a zero too. We decided to try to watch Dead and Breakfast, a terrible slasher flick they’d seen at trail angel Ljnda’s house. While Honeybuns and I called every trail angel listed to try and find somewhere to stay, the other guys went to brunch and set up an impromptu movie theater in the DOC.
The movie started (when we pressed play), and as the horrible acting went on and on, two important things happened: 1. Honeybuns had a former coworker, a travel nurse, message him and say that she and her husband were in the area and could she grab him (and he invited me) for dinner and a swim in the extended stay hotel pool and 2. One trail angel came through in a place to stay!
Honeybuns and I left for dinner with Nancy and Pete- clam chowder and then brats and macaroni salad when Honeybuns and I proved bottomless pits. There was wine and tequila and the Olympics and a riotous good time.
They dropped us off at St Barnabus Episcopal Church in Norwich, VT. The priest (?) was out, but a parishioner let us in and showed us around. He was tall and kind, with grey hair and the kind of jokes that faithful church goers love to tell. I could see in him so many of my favorite church members.


We’re joined by two SOBOs, the disciple and powderpuff.
I’m sleeping tonight on a couch in the library of a small New England church, with Honeybuns on the floor. It makes me think about my church families, and how they would welcome hikers if they were in hiker towns. There are lots of ways to show hospitality. I bet this church wouldn’t expect that one hiker staying here would be a section hiker with a billion clergy friends.
I needed the zero. My knees feel better. I found an ice pack in the freezer so I’m taking advantage of that. Honeybuns popped a blister for me, a big deep one that was right on the ball of my foot. Hopefully it will finish draining and healing tomorrow while I ride to Bennington. I’d like to hike in to a shelter tomorrow night. We shall see.


I’m going to miss my NOBO friends. I’m a little tempted to continue on north with them, but I want to see Maureen and the beautiful state of Massachusetts. I think y’all will enjoy this one. Just wait for upper goose pond.
Miles: 0

Trip total: 126.5

MVP: muffin? There was so much!

LVP: blister

8: Cloudland shelter to Hanover, NH

Blazer and I woke up at about the same time. I ate some goldfish and tortillas, drank some water, and headed out. 16 miles to Hanover. 
It had been a warm night and it didn’t show signs of letting up any time soon. There wasn’t much water between me and Linda the Trail Angel’s house, either. I stood in a meadow and asked for wind. It came.



I soon made it to her house. I knew I was there when I heard shouts of “HIKER! OVER HERE!! SODAS AND PIZZA!!!” I smiled and waved and headed over. Two hikers greeted me and I sat down and ate and chatted for a while.


After I’d  had my fill and filled up my water bottles at her hose, I headed out.
The heat was relentless, though. My skin was fire. After barely any time, I made it to a brook and stripped down. The water was shallow but I managed to submerge myself, gasping as the cold water went over my head and neck. I left an oily sheen of sweat and dirt on top of the water as I washed away two days of hiking. And icy hot, I guess.



I rinsed out my shirt and shorts and let them dry in the sun while I sat on my pad, enjoying the quick break. Only 8 more miles to town.
Those 8 miles were hot, but beautiful. Part of the walk was through Norwich, VT.

And eventually I made it to Hanover. I wandered through town until I found a hiker (someone dirty with a backpack), then walked up and said, “hey, you going all the way?” He said yes, and that’s how I met Honeybuns. We walked down together to a pizza place that gives out a free slice of pizza to thru-hikers, and I met up with the hikers from the trail angel’s house there too (wok man and the count) as well as brother and sister and sweet feet and macgruber. We ate and laughed became fast friends, the way hikers do.
We went over to the Dartmouth Outdoor Club to charge electronics and empty food bags for a few minutes, and then Honeybuns and I went to explore. We ended up at a Chi Eta fraternity house, and were invited downstairs to observe the final round of the interfraternal beer pong tournament. It was as hot as a blast furnace in the basement, and we weren’t even the grossest people down there, or the smelliest.



We chatted with some students for a few minutes, then decided to hitch a ride down to the river to swim. The British fraternity told us there was a dock we could swim off of.
We picked up a hitch quickly– a guy turned around and offered us blueberries as he drove us down the rode to the river. He told us the dock was only for Dartmouth students, but if we followed a path, we would end up at river access. We thanked him and went into the woods.
Eventually we did end up at the river, and we jumped in, enjoying the cool water as the sun started setting.
We got dressed and tried to hitch back in to town, but had no luck. We walked back, and went to get gelato. Earlier in the day we’d been to the grocery store and a woman had stopped her car to hand us coupons for free gelato– couldn’t let those go to waste! After a cup of dark chocolate, we met up with the rest of the group at an Irish pub. We had nachos and fries and I got bored and asked a group of summer students to do cartwheels on the sidewalk for me. Wouldn’t you know it, they did?

Honeybuns and I walked around town some more, and discovered the visual arts center was unlocked. We enjoyed the exhibits and the air conditioning and the bathrooms. We walked back into the tent site, beyond the athletic field in the woods, and set up tents in less than desirable locations. That’s what we get for being lazy and letting everyone else get the good spots.

We watched shooting stars and traded trail stories, but eventually it was time for bed.
Miles: 16

Trip total: 126.5

MVP: leftover pizza that really got me through the rest of the day. That was clutch.

LVP: lack of water

7: stony brook to Cloudland shelter

It was a hot day. It was a hot night. I slept well with the boys and an old man named Golden and the SOBO Grandpa cowboy camping out past the shelter. And in the morning, we got up and joked around and ate, then trickled out of the shelter and down the trail.
The boys were aiming for a 26 mile day, but I wasn’t so sure.


I started off climbing down a ladder (at least it wasn’t a rock scramble!!).
And as the day warmed up, so did I. I was hot and sweaty and happy.


I took the side trail to the lookout, a private cabin that’s open for hikers to stay in. I climbed up on the roof to take a look around.


And then I climbed back down.


I sat and chatted with Tarzan and ate some lunch. We talked weather and, hearing that there might be rain tonight, I thought maybe I didn’t want to do 26 miles to tent in a lady’s yard. Maybe I’d go for a shelter instead.
I explained my feelings to this sympathetic bird.


I fell more in love with Vermont.


And then there was trail magic! Red hot was NOBO last year, and he and his family had a hiker feed. Tarzan and Sunny were there, and I enjoyed a red snapper and a regular hot dog. And cookies. And a coke. And some water. And then hiked out.


The day didn’t get easier though. The uphills were sucking it out of me. I stopped at a creek for a quick cool down. The blue bandana on my wrist is for…well, really anything. Wiping my nose in the cold, wiping sweat in the hot, and taking off to use as a wash rag in a creek. So I did that whenever I could to try and cool down, but I was still just zapped.


I was zapped, but the trail was beautiful.


I passed a section hiker doing a survey and handing out snickers. I wolfed that puppy down.


And then down I went, to Cloudland road. There were two shelter possibilities today: Cloudland shelter, which is no longer an AT shelter and is on private land but is open to AT hikers, or thistle hill. Thistle hill was a mile further and up another hill, and so when I ran into a section hiker named Blazer at Cloudland road and told him my plan to go to Cloudland, and he said he might join me, well, that was good news. I wasn’t *really* relishing a night alone.


The other good news was that there was Magic Water (uh, jugs of water) at the road; Cloudland was dry, so we filled up and headed out.
After a bit of a trek, we made it to the empty shelter off trail. Clean, empty, and lonely.
I ate mashed potatoes, tortilla, goldfish, and sour patch kids. And now I’m ready for bed. Happy, full, and ready for Hanover tomorrow.


Miles: 20.3

Trip total: 110.5

MVP: mashed potatoes. No, hot dog.

LVP: heat

6: Churchill Scott to Rutland to Stony Brook Shelter

I got up and just started hiking. I didn’t even brush my teeth. Sorry mom.
I got down to Route 4 and tried to hitch, but the bus came before I got a ride. Well, I guess I hitched the bus.


I went up to the Yellow Deli. The Yellow Deli is a deli and also a donation-only hostel. It’s…maybe a cult? There’s a farm. Everyone is very friendly. I went in for a shower and laundry. The shower was great.
Before:


After:


I put on the hostel clothes (I went for a flowy skirt and yoga top so I could really embrace the hippie aesthetic) and started my load of laundry. Then I went outside and spread out the rest of my stuff in the sun so it could all dry out.


Eventually I realized I was sitting next to Mama Duck, a NOBO from the shelter the first night. We chatted, and he told me about his stay at the yellow deli. He was heading out in a minute though. I also saw fish and chips and his friend…whose name I don’t remember. They had all been at the Yellow Deli for at least two days. It sucks you in.
I did some laundry folding as my work for stay (lol) and finished up, then went over to Walmart. On my way, I ran in to optimistic dreamer. I’d met him with carpenter back in Manchester center. He was SOBO last year and is now doing a yoyo, headed NOBO with …little chicken? I’d seen them both briefly in yellow deli, but we had a brief chat on the street while I waited to cross. It was good to talk with him, and I felt better afterwards.
I bought some food and hit up subway for a dinner to carry out, then wandered around town trying to find lunch. I ended up with an ok Chinese place.


I caught the bus, chatting with Sidewind, a SOBO.


I planned on 10 miles to stony brook shelter and let me tell y’all, it wasn’t easy. I almost stopped at 2. But I kept on going.

Kent Pond was a pleasure to walk around. 
There was a boardwalk. The longest handicap accessible Boardwalk?

I climbed a giant hill and it was miserably hot and humid.


But eventually I made it here to Stony Brook Shelter. I’m here with Tarzan, who was at yellow deli this morning, it’s always sunny, and two SOBOs whose names I don’t remember. We had a good time. I like them all. I feel good. Only 38 miles of Vermont left!!


Miles: 11.9

Trip total: 90.2

MVP: egg roll

LVP: no free refill on coke