Day 71, Monday, April 23. Woods Hole Hostel—13.3 miles

I didn’t want to get up, but I heard everyone else moving around. I stuck my head out of the tent just in time to see that Blue and Gnome already had their hammocks down. PC was all packed up and ready to go. It was only 7:30 and no one in this group has ever shown signs of early starts before. I looked up at the sky and saw nothing but dark clouds. The shits are all afraid of a little rain.

My wife has taught me one thing for certain when hiking—the mornings are not to be rushed (unless you are illegally sleeping in a farmers field and you hear a tractor starting). I took my time making breakfast and packing up. Even so, I was not the last one out of camp at 9. Blue took that honor.

Gnome was only about 10 minutes ahead of me so I thought I’d catch up with him fairly soon. I saw an older guy with long white hair ahead of me and thought “that was quick” only it wasn’t Gnome—it was Vagabond Jack whom I haven’t seen since Damascus. That also means Curb is not far ahead. We walked together for a bit as I confirmed how much more I like him than Little Blue when out of nowhere, a blue blur passes us. Have I hurt the little guys feelings? After all the effort I’ve put into showing him pony pictures and telling him how great the chili dogs were yesterday, I’d hate to alienate him.

Little Blue was driving the day since he had to stop in Woods Hole Hostel to pick up a package. When I initially saw the sky, I was thinking a hostel might be a good thing for the night and I had decided to stay there. RTK had told us this was a “must” on the AT. Vagabond Jack told me he and Curb were spending the night and I said at least I would join them, but I thought the weather might help recruit the other three.

We all caught up with each other for lunch at Wapiti Shelter. Since it was already drizzling and cold, it didn’t take much effort to change minds. Little Blue was the last hold out (and it was because of him we were even thinking about going there). PC and I started telling of the home grown organic food reputation of the place and the fact that this is THE oldest hostel on the trail. Everyone was in. The only problem was lack of phone signal to get reservations. We all agreed that Blue would make the phone call when we got signal so we were good to go.

The only things between us and the hostel were a couple of 2,000’ climbs, 7 miles, and a steady, cold rain. We couldn’t see our breaths, but it was close; my thermometer was reading 40. Curb was the first to head out from the shelter followed by me and Gnome. We assumed Jack would play cleanup since he claims to be the slowest hiker on the trail, but he now has competition from PC. PC is not afraid to take his time, sit down and contemplate life, or even take a wrong turn here and there. He has no pressure at all, he’s already summited Katahdin.

Curb, Gnome, Blue, and I all walked into the hostel together. As soon as we stepped on the porch, the rain got real. This turned out to be the best call we had made to date. Curb and Vagabond had a private room in the main house (a potential love nest, but Curb is a one woman man) while the rest of us got beds in the bunkhouse. There were wood burning stoves in the house and bunkhouse so all was good.

We climbed the ladder to the upper level and found Sunshine wrapped up in her sleeping bag. She was up there trying to hide from the home made chewy bars downstairs—she’d already had two and couldn’t trust herself to be on the same level with them. I went down to warm up by the stove and try one as well. She made the right call.

There were 19 of us for supper in the big house. Neville is a spiritual person and is very aware of her reputation on the trail as being a famous hostel that her grandparents started. Before dinner, we all held hands and were silent for a bit before we shared our trail names, where we were from, and something we are thankful for. I was standing next to Blue. It’s hard for a guy to stay mad at you when you are holding hands. I’ve been forgiven.

EFG