Gettin groovy

I had a real comfy camp, but it was a bit tok quiet. The stillness is jarred by the most gentle of disturbances which for a city boy isn’t always exciting. So I slept with my ear plugs in, and even still I tossed and turned and didn’t sleep all that well. Not terribly, I “woke up” when it was time to get ready pretty refreshed, so not complaints.

I think because of the timing of the sun, I’m just spending more time in camp than usual, so I’m resting more than adequately and I guess not that exhausted enough to just pass out.

At any rate, I had my first real coffee today in almost a week. My tummy grumbles made coffee not the most desired thing. And the coffee I brought packs a punch, and is quite tasty. I felt so good starting off the day I was doing a lil jig to my tunes while hiking along the trail. The best way to picture this is to google prancersize. Imagine that on trail in the middle of nowhere. Something kinda like that.

The day was cool and clear, sometimes slightly overcast which kept me nicely shaded. The trail twisted and turned along OHV and FS roads (off highway vehicle/forest service) and being a Saturday the folks were out; Moto’s, atvs, trucks. Saw a kid who musta been about 10 whipping around with his family on a mini dirt bike, that made me chuckle.

Throughout the day I was wracking my brain trying to remember Kentucky Camp — a point along the trail that had a bathroom, running water, and a little FS rentable cabin. I couldn’t for the life of me recall what that was, and I assumed Andy and I hs passed it last time. About a mile from the camp, de ja vu hit with a lead bat. There wasn’t anything special about where I was. More whispy grass fields with hills around. But just then I recalled a smell I experienced in this spot last time. A barbecue. The burning embers of a grill with its scent wafting down the valley along the trail. And bam, I remembered it all. Andy and I had made friends with some of the folks renting the cabin, and they offered us steaks and beer and sodas, and a nice calm respite from the wind by camping in their back yard area.

Unfortunately, the memory was not triggered by a similar smell, and when I got to the camp on the care taker was there in his RV. At only 14 or so miles on the day, I knew I wasn’t going to dilly dally and just fill up my water and continue on. A brief hello to the fella and off I went.

My next stop is Vail - a town Andy and I passed over as it requires a short hitch to get to. I decided to go here when I still wasn’t feeling great in Patagonia because it’s a couple days before my next planned stop and I figured 2-3 days less weight of food would be good, and if I still wasn’t well, I could break in town as Mt Lemmon ain’t got a thing but a post office and small store.  Last night I was 43.7 miles away, which was lining up perfectly to split the mileage in thirds from Patagonia.

Well, today I was once again feeling good. Feeling like a real thru hiker again. No need to stop or rest, but would ever couple hours just for fun and to not be completely psychotic.

Ha, I should never test my psychosis like that. I had wild thoughts. What if I just pushed all night and made it to the road tonight? Beat my longest standing single day by 1.5 miles. A little night hiking a fine right?

Marvin Gaye kept rolling through my head: “My Minds telling me noooo, but my body, my boooddaaayyss telling me yessss” I kept reminding myself that would be actually insane. But my feet kept going. It’s almost as if I couldn’t stop them even if I wanted to. The terrain was nice and smooth, and they were moving quick.

No, stop. Seriously! Okay, fine. I’ll just do a couple hours in the darkness. The closer I get to town, the more rest time I’ll have. Maybe clean my clothes (side bar, I’m in that awkward and uncomfortable stage where I recognize my stench and and repulsed by it. Another week or so, and I won’t even notice it (or the smell of other thru hikers to be honest)). Also, reports of rain are coming in, and I’d looove to be done with my hike before the hit in the afternoon. I know it’s inevitable. But if it can be avoided by hopping to it? Done and done.

The sunset around 5:40, and I had enough ambient light to go sans headlamp until about 6:15. I was on top of rolling bald hills with tall grass, so not a bad way to walk around at night. Ha! The trail changes, duh. Shortly after my headlamp went in I dipped into little woods valleys dense with brush and all things terrifying. I started to convince myself I was going to do all 43.7 miles simply because I was too scared to stop now.

It’s dark. Real dark. There’s some thick cloud coverage so there’s no moon, and if it weren’t for some ambient light from what I assume is Vail, it would be pitch black. Every little reflection of my headlamp made my heart skip a beat; the widely spaced greenish eyes of the cows, the narrow white eyes of deer, and the creepily dim red eyes of bunnies hiding in the bushes, and even the cold ice blue eyes of the spiders on trail that sparkle like small flecks in the sand. Fortunately, that was all I saw. But regardless I was ready to abort all initial plans of crazy. Finally I found a nice little flat spot in an fairly open area but still protected from the wind, and I looked at my maps and saw I was 16.7 miles away from town. Not bad.

But wait… if I only did 3 more miles, I would have a 30 mile day! Prove myself I am a thru hiker and do it. Do it! What’s another hour at night?

So I push on. I get another mile and then say nu-uh. I’m hungry and have been carrying 4 liters of water for the last 5 miles since there’s been no reliable water. So time to call it. I then smell that familiar camp fire smell drifting around the hills I’m traversing, and think maybe there’s some folks at the next dirt road crossing. Maybe I’ll get a soda. Soda, btw, is thru-hikers crack. And most are particularly partial to Dr. Pepper. When drinking 3-6 liters of water and only water every day, the sugary, cold, carbonated, delicious heavenly experience of a soda is always appreciated.

Alas, I get to the road crossing and no one’s there. I can hear faint talking if they elevate their voices a hair, but at normal conversation I can’t hear them. So they’re probably not terribly far, but not within eye sight. I thought about continuing on to hit my 30, but I decided there was actually no need other than my own ridiculousness, and I’ll just get packed up an hour earlier tomorrow to get in at a reasonable time.

I survived the night hike! Only two or three times I’ve done that. Ironically, there’s definitely some small creature bumbling around near me. So even though I attempted to find a save animal free zone, just goes to show, I’m in nature, duhhh.