8-13-12

Well I’ve taken quite a hiatus on the blog. I was getting tired of writing every evening, and decided to spend my time reading instead. So it’s been a good break. I’ve gone a good distance since I last wrote, through Connecticut and over half of Massachusetts. My time in New York was good, nice scenery, but bad water sources. Connecticut was pretty. My first New England state, and it didn’t fail to impress. My first view included your stereotypical New England sites, church steeples rising above the trees, old colonial houses, and clean, brightly painted barns. I moved through Connecticut pretty fast, except for the first day in which I caught up on town things in Kent, Connecticut. Laundry, blog, mail, resupply, new footbeds for my shoes. I got on the trail at 6:30 that evening, but still made 10 miles of it by night hiking a very flat stretch along the Housatonic River. It was very pleasant albeit some lurking shadows created by my headlamp. I found a starry field and cowboy camped in it then. A nice night. Another highlight in CT was getting a good, 3 minute video of a decent sized black bear. He was panting heavy, probably hot, and just moping around. I let him get about 30 feet from me then decided it was close enough and said, “It’s hot for me too buddy.” He looked confused, surprised, and then took off running from where he came. Quite exciting for me.

So Connecticut was good, except it was buggy. Black gnats all the time. My buddy, Dirty D, cleverly dubbed it Co-gnat-icut, which I was thought was pretty good.

Then soon into Massachusetts I got back with The Hair, Sherbert and Octo. So they've been good company. One night, soon into Mass, I shared this small shelter with an older guy named Late Start. He was busy looking for a favorite pocket knife of his that he lost, one with sentimental value. As we talked I learned he was a retired electrician from Chicago, heard all about his mother’s walking stick he had, his dad’s Leatherman multi-tool, and about his attempts of completing the AT. Two years ago I guess he started in the south, but drought conditions forced him to quit for lack of water. So he tried the next year from the north and got pounded with rain from tropical storm Irene, "one extreme to another" we both said at the same time. He also slipped one time and messed his leg up good and dislodged something in his back. So he was forced off the trail again. He’s now out here trying to finish, after he finds his knife. As he poked around, I noted how the wind was picking up and remembered rumors of possible nighttime storms. Then this big old fallen tree which was hung up in another one got to squeaking right beside us. I looked around and now fully appreciated the mass and height of the monarch hemlock and white pines that surrounded us; well over 100, some over 120-140 feet tall, with 3 foot diameters. These things would smash our measly shelter into tiny bits. Given Late Start’s streak of misfortune, I put a lot of thought into the wisdom of sharing a shelter with him. I didn't want to test providence. I even expressed my concerns to him, and he didn’t give a compelling argument that we’d be fine. Alas though, I was tired and decided to take my chances, and made it of course. Rough night of sleep though, skeeters were bad, and Late Start snored impressively.

Next 3 nights, mattresses! First at a little retreat center, got a shower too. Didn’t even have to hitch a ride, this guy Sam, a hiker himself figured I was heading there and picked me up, saving me a 1.5 mile off-trail road walk. The next night, got the last bunk at Upper Goose Cabin. A cool little place in the Massachusetts woods. The caretakers made delicious blueberry pancakes every morning. Then in Dalton, I stayed at a guy’s place, Tom Levardi, who’s been taking hikers in for 30 years. Shower, laundry, bed, town, food, all great. Then he took us into town the next day to Dick’s Sporting Goods and I got a great deal on a down sleeping bag, a much needed item.