I'm not entirely alone however. My dad has been wanting a little adventure, so he is returning to the trail with me so he can support me along my hike for the next two weeks. We've had some amazing hiking adventures together in places like Peru Nepal, not to mention a few times hut-to-hut hiking in the White Mountains. Although dad can't do the strenuous hikes with me anymore, we can share some of this experience together.
A new partner in crime isn't the only thing new; on this trip I am bringing three new pieces of gear. The most notable is a new backpack. I love my Osprey Eja, and it has served me well since I picked it up at Neel's Gap in Georgia four years ago when I was only 30 miles into my Appalachian Trail journey. The old girl still has some life in her, but Osprey has come out with a pro version that has some of the features that I love about the Eja, but with upgrades that I think are far superior. One is the lighter DWR fabric. It's also 8 ounces lighter and with a much improved hip belt and better adjustability.
I also bought some new shoes, trading it the Topos for Altras. I used to wear Altras all the time but disappointed by how quickly they lost their cushioning and wore down, so I switched to Topo's for the last couple of years. Unfortunately those haven't served me very well on the rocks, so I decided to go back to the Altras so I could have the benefit of a full rock plate in addition to a couple more millimeters of cushioning. I think I'm going to be okay with buying shoes more frequently if my feet feel better at the end of every day.
The last piece of gear that I am starting out with is a bear can. I swore I would never break down and buy one, but the lack of bear cables or bear boxes in some states, along with all my bear sightings, have changed my mind. Plus, I absolutely hate doing a bear hang so much, in fact, that I am willing to carry the extra two pounds from here on out.
We make the six and a half hour drive without incident, other than a little bit of traffic, and at 2:30 I say goodbye and set out north from Guilder Pond, now officially in Massachusetts. Ten states down and only four to go!
The days of easy ridge walks, where I can hike 17 or 18 miles and only gain 2,500 feet are long behind me. The FarOut app shows that the elevation gain and loss has increased steadily since leaving the Mid-Atlantic, where the average elevation change is 274 feet per mile. The section comprised of New Jersey, New York, and Connecticut is 361 feet per mile. This new section of Massachusetts and Vermont is 428 feet per mile. I don't even want to look ahead to the New Hampshire/ Maine section!
The day is beautiful, with the temperature in the mid 80's, and a lovely breeze is blowing on the mountain.
I'm not on the trail for five minutes before I take a blue blaze side trail to the edge of the pond. It's beautiful, and much bigger than it looked when I was here a few days ago, where I could only see 50 feet or so Due to the poor visibility. A large group of people are on a rock, splashing in the water with kayaks floating nearby.
I head north generally downhill, to Mount Bushnell, two miles from the pond. The views are less than stellar due to the haze from the heat.
Leaving Bushnell, for the next two miles the descent is tricky with the steep rocks. I prepared myself mentally beforehand, as the FarOut comments talk about how horrific the descent is. I don't think it's the worst that I've had, but I can see how it would be pretty awful In bad weather.
At the bottom of Mt. Bushnell, the trail opens up to on Jug End Road; a narrow country dirt road. I am thrilled to see a water cache; containers of water that a Trail Angel has left next to the trail. Most of the water sources are reported to be dry for the next nine or ten miles, and I am certainly concerned about the scarcity of water, especially given how hot it is. A phone number on the side of the jug, asking for a text if the water gets low, and I text my thanks to the person who provided it. I drink a half later and pour another one for later.
Soon after leaving jug End Road The trail emerges onto a pasture where the trail becomes a long series of plank bridges over the marshy ground. The ground beneath is not very wet right now, but I can see very deep footprints In the mud, like someone actually post holed up to mid-calf recently.
I grab some blackberries while cruising by some bushes on the edge of the field. The pasture is a riot of common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca), wild carrot (Daucus carota), and wild grape vines, with some black-eyed Susan mixed in. Butterflies and dragonflies are flitting about, making for am idyllic scene.
The trail Crosses another road and re-enters a beautiful mature hemlock woods. The breeze is lovely and I'm reveling in the coolness of the shade when I realize that my hiking pole feels really weird. I look down and see that the tip section of my one of my poles is completely missing. The clamp worked its way open and it must have completely slipped out at some point In the last mile. I know I had it when I came down Mount Bushnell. I start to backtrack but realize how futile it is.
I continue through the hemlocks enjoying the sound of a woodpecker tapping on a tree nearby. I'm making good time and right now I can pull off a few 20-minute miles and hopefully make it to the shelter tonight.
The trail is quite flat for the next four miles, however I'm in the sun and I'm feeling really hot although I make some really good time, stopping only for the amazing and plentiful trail magic at every road crossing. There are no water sources for another five miles and 1,200 foot climb. I realize I might be cutting it close with getting a camp set up before full dark. The gift of the water is allowing me the flexibility of setting up camp a little earlier than hiking into the shelter at ten o'clock tonight.
I pass a monument commemorating the site of Shay's Rebellion of 1787, an armed urprising between the townsfolk and government in protest of high taxes, before walking through corn fields.
The best trail magic is a cooler freshly filled to the brim with Gatorade and soda. I grab a Gatorade And hold the ice cold bottle against my neck. I've decided that Massachusetts hands down has the best trail magic per mile so far of any state!
For the next mile the trail meanders along the Housatonic, which is more like a sizable stream this far north than the river we hiked next to foot so long in Connecticut. I am bummed i can't get through the thick brush to get water. However my disappointment turns to relief when the trail comes to a bridge to cross the river, because a sign states that the water is contaminated with pcb's and fish from the river are unsafe to eat. Guess I will rely on trail magic for my water.
The trail leaves the flat of the road and river and I start to climb up. It's now 7:00 p.m., and I need to start thinking about where I'm going to camp. I want to follow the rules and camp at the shelter areas, but there is no way that I'm going to make it to the next shelter before full dark, and some of the comments about rock scrambles without visible blazes to mark the way make me a little nervous.
The only problem is the water. I've been staying hydrated, but I'm not carrying much more than a half liter at a time. So far I am glad accepting the generosity of the strangers who provide the water, but I don't want to take advantage of that generosity and not have enough water for other people who come by behind me who may need it. I make a decision to get just enough water at the next road crossing if there's a cache, and then set up camp somewhere up the ridge when the light wanes to the point that I have 10 or 15 minutes to set up my camp.
I am struggling up the hill, having to stop several times because of the heat. Plus I'm just tired; I've been up since 4:00 a.m., drove for half the day, and hiked without stopping for the last 9 hours. When I reach the last road crossing, I am thrilled to find a water cache. I drink a half liter and then grab an extra half liter for the night.
By 8:00 p.m., I've hiked another two miles and gained another 600 feet when I reach a stream that was reported to have water a few days ago, but it is dry as a bone. The woods are burned out from a recent fire, so I have to continue hiking for a stretch before I find a suitable spot to set up.
I am on top of the ridge and thankfully this is the coolest spot in the area due to the breeze. While I set up, I get absolutely attacked by mosquitoes. I call home to let everyone know I'm okay. I skip a real dinner for some snacks because I'm tired, and the idea of hot food in this heat is very unappetizing.
I am laying in my hammock at 9:00 p.m. listening to the whine of the mosquitoes trying to find a way through the bug net.
Good night.
Today's Stats: 12.6 miles, 1,942 feet gain
Trail Stats: 1,532 miles, 297K feet gain
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