Mud Bug stumbled into camp after dark just like the ghost of Patches. We saw her flashlight as she was setting up her tent. I got up to pee the third time (yes, there was a loud, flowing stream next to our tent, but that no longer has any effect on me) and there was a guy standing at the picnic table packing up to leave. We got up at 6:30 and were the last ones to leave other than Patches, er, Mud Bug still asleep in her tent.
Vermont (notice, no snarky name calling) is finally morphing into the state we were hoping for. It was a perfect morning, in my opinion—low humidity, mid 60s, and cloudy. We even had dry trail without any mud for a few miles. We came to Griffith Lake and there was a cloudy mist swirling on the lake’s surface. Like the Grinch before him, Bear’s heart grew 10 times in size today. He said he was really starting to like Vermont.
On the down side with such a rapid growth of the heart comes multiple complications. He now has pain in his chest from an over-enlarged heart, cardiomyopathy (improper heart beat), and kidney issues from all the extra blood flow. This could be the final straw for him. Sassy was ready to put him down (he apparently made the rookie mistake of heading into the backcountry with his wife AND keeping an active life insurance policy). We stepped in and saved him—this time. Only one intervention on the house.
By the time we reached Baker Peak, we were enveloped in fog. This looks like what we can expect from here on out now that we’ve hitched our wagon to the Bear, Ass, and Sassy train. From listening to their stories, every Peak is fogged in and every major descent will be in rain. We did catch up with Ambassador hoping for a glance below which appeared hopeful until we showed up. She said she was going to get out of our hiking rhythm and drop behind us with this kind of crap happening everywhere we go. She didn’t fly all the way from England to hike in the fog. If she wanted fog, she could have saved the price of the flight.
It is quite amazing how a fog panoramic creates an appetite. I’m not sure if it was the climb or adrenaline after rush from the fog. In either case, we were ready for a snack at Lost Pond Shelter. This was where we were hoping to make it last night, but decided our feet were too tired to make it to. Now that we had walked the five miles to get here, we were glad we had not pushed on yesterday.
We passed some sobos that told us there was great water holes ahead that were beckoning for us to jump in. By the time we got to Big Branch Shelter, we were ready to at least soak our feet. Bear stripped down and was ready to jump in, but decided against it at the last minute. After cooling off for a while everyone decided they were ready to move on. It was at that time Bunny used one of her most diabolical stunts to date. She said to me “be careful, the rocks are slick.” In other words, she practically pushed me into the water. She needs to watch out because karma can be a bee-otch.
I usually check to see if there are any road crossings in our path for the day, hoping for magic. The best food a hiker can eat is free food (and we do well thanks to Alice, but we carry that). We could see a parking lot with several cars and people standing around. We lingered in the hopes of an invitation. It took us an incredibly long time of fiddling with our phones and loitering before we got a bite. A woman came over and asked us if we knew Mud Bug. Do we know Mud Bug? This led to powdered donuts, orange juice, and fresh fruit. She couldn’t afford to spare any beer on us because she was keeping that for the Bug. Even out here, it’s not what you know, but who you know.
Today was shelter hopping day. We decided to have lunch at the next shelter, but changed our minds when we found some nice sitting rocks at Little Rock Pond. We ate lunch on a beautiful pond (some in the Midwest might call a lake—being in New England apparently includes the English propensity to understate things). We tried to get pictures of some rather elusive loons who kept diving underwater as soon as we got our cameras ready. I gave up but Bunny finally got a shot as we were leaving. I always think of Katherine Hepburn imitating loon calls when I see one (which leads me to thinking about Jane Fonda acting like a little kid which in turn makes me want to vomit—on second thought, I don’t like loons).
We gathered up our energy for the final 5 mile push to the next, and last, shelter for the day. We came upon a series rock gardens on top of. Bear was leading for a pleasant climb. We decided to give Bunny another chance to lead—she promised to not get lost. It was total chaos—she couldn’t decide if she wanted to go up or down, have a rocky or a muddy trail. Impeachment of Bunny as leader was inevitable when we finally made it to the turn for the shelter. We decided to continue the rest of the way to the shelter. Another mistake. She claimed she had no control of the trail, but we didn’t have these issues when Bear was leading.
We arrived at an empty shelter with only one tent. Ambassador was already set up in the best tent site. We looked around a bit to try to give her some privacy but decided to camp right next to her. Controversy began almost immediately. Bear set his Big Agnes tent up right next to ours with the logo showing. I threatened to pee on the logo in the middle of the night (I’m still pissed at BA for lying to me). Instead, our tent ended up in the fire pit.
As promised, karma reared it’s ugly head, only it struck Bear (but he did laugh after Bunny pushed me in the water at lunch). It was difficult to find suitable trees to hang bear bags in and then his aim was less than stellar. Even I didn’t know mechanical engineers threw like women, but I do now. It was the closest I came to seeing Bear get upset. His body was shutting down one piece at a time and the control system needed a reboot. Sounds like he’s about to admit to needing EEs in his life.
EFG