Day 92, Monday, May 14. Cow Camp Gap Shelter—15.1 miles

We got on the trail by 6. You read that right—on the trail by 6. Not up by 6. We were hiking just before 6. We planned to get up early, but we had no idea Stickers and Lady Bug set the alarm for 4 f&$@ing 30. I had a hard time getting Bunny to get up, especially when she checked her phone for the time. The one thing this morning showed us, (hell, every day has shown us) is that it doesn’t matter if we set up a tent or sleep in a shelter, cook breakfast or eat a cold breakfast, whatever combination we choose doesn’t matter—it takes us an hour and a half to get ready.

Patches also got up, but she didn’t head out with us. Her morning routine is closer to two hours at a minimum. We crossed our first road in 1/2 mile and good things were already waiting—there was a trash can. Any reduction in pack weight is a good thing. There was a camper parked there and I jokingly said they should be up giving us magic and accidentally slammed the trash can lid. I swear it was an accident. Just then a woman pops out of the trailer and asks if we are thru-hikers. She said to wait. I thought she was off for a gun. I innocently stepped behind Gnome. He’s the oldest and has lived a full life. Moon Beam returned with Snickers for all of us. We talked with her and Big Cypress about their thru-hike a few years ago. They also have a son close to Bunny’s son in age so we talked about the struggles of 20 year olds.

We talked for about 20 minutes before heading on. It was already boiling out. So much for beating the heat. It didn’t take 10 minutes of walking before we were covered in sweat, and, swarms of annoying bugs. As I often do while hiking, I decided to have a talk with god. I asked him what in the hell he was thinking when he created all these irritating pests. God did something I didn’t expect him to stoop to; he threw Noah under the bus.

God claimed in addition to punishing the human race with the great flood, he had expected Noah to clean up a few of his messes from early days. It was Noah who collected: 2 fleas, 2 gnats, 2 no see-ums, 2 sand fleas, 2 house flies, 2 black flies, 2 mosquitoes, 2 wasps, 2 yellow jackets, 2 deer flies, 2 ticks, 2 deer ticks, 2 midges, 2 sweat bees, 2 of every annoying flying pest that I was complaining about. He never thought Noah would be so thorough. I pointed out that he was supposed to be all knowing and all seeing just like Oz but he shrugged his shoulder and claimed that even he makes mistakes—take the duckbilled platypus for instance, or Donald Trump. Shit happens.

I got to thinking and He was right. OF COURSE I AM RIGHT. Stay out of this now, this is my blog and I’ve got a point to make here. SORRY, CARRY ON. Noah deserves a special place in hell. We didn’t excuse the Nazis that claimed to only be following orders as Noah will claim. And that’s why Catholics invented purgatory.

While all this discussion and debate was going on, Bunny and I quietly passed the 800 mile point of the trail. Just 1290 miles left. I started doing a little math in my head and started to worry about completing the trail before Baxter closes. We are supposed to meet our friend Rich in PA to hike together for a few weeks. We have a “met cute” story with Rich and his wife, Laura, that few living can claim—we met in Dachau Concentration Camp. No, really, we were touring the camp last year and started talking about hiking.

We also wanted to make it to the southern end of the 100 mile wilderness in Maine by late August to hike with our friends, Peter and Marcia, who we met in Scotland several years ago. Before we started hiking, they were the only people we knew who actually thru-hiked the trail. They did it back in the late 70s before trail names were even in use and before all this light weight gear was around. Warren Doyle even went to their wedding (trust me, to trail geeks this is big stuff). They were known by the names “Peter” and “Marcia” when they hiked. Weren’t you listening? I said they hiked before trail names were in use.

The plan (always subject to change) was to meet at Brown Mountain Shelter for lunch, a nap, and a possible creek soaking before climbing the 2,300’ up Bald Knob. We passed the remnants of an old freed slave community along the creek banks. The community disbanded when the former slaves decided to “sell out” to the forest service. I’m almost certain their terms of sharecropping were more than fair and didn’t play into their decision to head further north.

Today, the plan held. We five of us met for lunch at Brown Mountain Shelter. Savage, Po, and Spartacus were also there. After they took off, we all spread out in the shelter to nap. It was a tease. We only slept for an hour before the alarm went off. Bunny and I were still 3 hours shy from our normal night. I don’t think we will try this early rise thing again any time soon.

As we were leaving, Patches came dragging in. She does worse in the heat than we do. We talked with her for a bit before going to catch up with Gnome. The climb was brutal. Not because it was steep, but because it was so hot, buggy, and we were tired. My brain kept polling the rest of the body to see if anyone else wanted to stop. The lungs said yes. The heart said yes. The feet said yes, but they made the mistake of asking the ass what it thought. The ass spoke and the everyone said let’s move on a little further to get away from the smell. This just goes to show it doesn’t take a leader to keep things moving up, just an asshole.

It took us nearly 4 hours to climb to the top of the mountain. At the top, a storm came rolling in with very dark skies, indeed. With the threat of lightening, Bunny voted to shorten the day and head down a side trail to the nearest shelter. Gnome agreed. Honestly, I didn’t want to set up a tent in the rain so I was on board. Since Cow Camp Gap Shelter was over a half mile off the trail, there was a very good chance it would be empty since thru-hikers rarely hike that much extra since they’ve already got almost 2200 miles on their plate.

There was only one person at the shelter, Rocket Man. He’s an 18 year old solo hiker and he was glad to see us. He didn’t like staying in shelters alone if possible. He is going somewhat light—he sent home his stove, sleeping bag, rain gear, and boots to save weight. He sleeps in a trench coat he picked up from a Good Will. From what I could see of his bear canister, he lives predominantly on candy since he’s gone no cook.

A bit later, Po, Spenders, his dog Murdock, Tang, and a British guy showed up to use the table to cook supper. These guys carry two skillets and lots of fresh foods to cook. Their packs weigh over 50# each. Their reasoning is that since they are going to be on the trail for over 6 months, they might as well enjoy the food. Tonight they had steak and cheese curry. I offered them some of our mashed potatoes since they seemed to be deprived of high density carbs. They politely refused, but I could hear their stomachs growling in envy.

EFG