“Closer”

AT Day 126

Miles Today: 17.61

AT Mile: 1985.9

(Redington Stream Campsite)

I don’t know what it is, but I’ve been feeling especially tired at the end of the day when I lay down to write my journals. That feeling of general exhaustion and lower energy has been going on probably throughout all of New Hampshire too, but only now has it reached a point where I almost feel like I have some kind of ailment. The cynical side of me says that it’s a sign of Lyme Disease, and I’ve met two hikers in the last week who have caught it on trail. But the more logical side says that I’ve been surprisingly and pleasantly tick-free for most of this trail, and the symptoms of exhaustion could also be from six to eight thousand foot elevation gain days. It’s more likely the latter.

With the complaining out of the way however, I should note that the trail seems to have mellowed out quite a bit in the last day or two! I still didn’t break even 20 miles today, but I got to 17.5 *with* a town resupply, so that’s basically equal to a 20+ day.

The hitch into town and back to trail were both pretty easy and quick. I hitched both ways with a chap from England named Ninja. I met him first at the Om Dome and we came back to trail from there yesterday morning with another hiker named Tom.

Tom had been there for the trail magic that Hemlock’s wife, Rachael, brought at the top of Mount Greylock. It took me awhile to recognize who he was, but when we met at the Om Dome again I immediately recognized him as someone I’d met earlier on in the trail.

—

It was supposed to have rained last night, but it barely sprinkled for ten minutes. The vegetation was barely wet this morning.

But that was enough to spike the humidity this morning, which was concerning, as today was supposed to be the first cooler day after that goddamn heatwave. It left the morning heat feeling pretty bad, but by the evening it’s become cool enough to almost feel chilly up here in the mountains. I’m significantly higher elevation than this morning though, so there’s that to add to it as well.

—

It’s wild thinking that Amacalola Falls, Georgia was more than four months ago now. I remember the first day so well. It was in incredibly powerful day. So much has happened since then. Thru hikers are intense like that. They’re basically a guarantee that life changing shit is going to happen, but you don’t get to know what that shit is unless you get to it and get in it.

This trail’s life changing shit has been good for me I think. It’s still not over–neither the trail or the shit. But I have a sense for how the bigger picture looks now that I’m almost into the last two hundred miles.

—

This morning I woke up near a lake and considered swimming but decided against it because the waters were too shallow and I wanted to get to trail. But just before five miles in there was another small lake, and I wandered off trail to go to the shoreline. To my surprise I found three canoes there, two that appeared unusable or unlikely to float, and one that looked totally functional. I sat there and ate the second part of my breakfast before ultimately deciding that it was too good an opportunity to pass up. So I took the last bit of my breakfast with me, rowed out into the middle of the lake, and drifted around there for a while before coming to shore.

I don’t want to regret missing opportunities like this in the end.

It’s close now. The end.

—

Tonight I’m camped in this little tiny spot that’s right beside a significantly more suitable spot. But the more suitable spot has a Widow Maker hanging right over the top of it, and I just don’t trust a dead tree not to fall.

So I’m tucked into this tiny space, but it’s okay. It works. I’m just glad that I’ve had practice with setting this tent over the last few months, because it was like threading a needle to get it in here properly.

Like I said in the beginning, I’m extremely tired. Like I was last night. So tired that I fell asleep with the tent door open and out of my sleeping quilt. Fortunate that this time no mice came in with the zipper open like last time I did that.

—

There aren’t a lot of miles left to the end.

It’s growing closer.

Wormwood.