I get up and start packing, readying myself for the day ahead, and 7 AM I am deposited back on the trail where I got off yesterday.
Rain came through this morning and it is starting to taper off, but there's enough falling that I pull out my umbrella. The temperature Is mild and the forecast Is for a moderate level of humidity, lower than the last several days.
For the first few miles the trail is muddy but delightfully easy with gentle undulations through a hemlock forest. I reach the next road crossing only an hour after starting out, thinking I easily could have done this yesterday, even with my twisted guts and inadequate nutrition, but I'm still glad I got off when I did.
The miles peel off with ease, and by 10 AM I've done over seven miles. I cross a road and then cross Barton Brook. The brook looks like it could be a raging torrent in heavy rains, but right now it's just a beautiful babbling stream.
The trail so far has been well a maintained and easy dirt track. But I am starting to notice a trend that the rocks that have been a constant pain in the neck from Pennsylvania through Connecticut are now being replaced with roots. I have to keep my eye on the trail because the roots are everywhere.
I descend into the town of Dalton, where I cross railroad tracks and follow the white blazes straight onto town. I'm walking down the street lost and thought when I hear someone saying "hey hiker!" I look up and see Persuasion and K2 sitting on the porch of a house. I did not look very carefully at the map, but I realize I'm in front of a hostel.
Persuasion tells me this is the home of a famous Trail angel named Tom Lombardi. I climb onto the porch and take an available seat without taking off my pack to talk to them. I mentioned that I felt awful yesterday and had to jump off the trail early, and Persuasion states that she's bailing on her through hike temporarily. She's waiting on a ride to go home to Maine so she can get some lab work and tests done. She doesn't know if it's Lyme disease, but she said she just can't continue feeling like this.
I say goodbye and head up the street. The trail walks through town for a couple of miles and takes me past a gas station where I go in and buy a cold drink.
The sun is shining when I leave town and a light breeze is blowing, with a temperatureof about 80°F. This is how a summer day in New England is supposed to be, not the sweltering humidity of the previous four weeks. Upon leaving town I re-enter the shade of trees towering overhead with dappled shining down onto the trail, picture perfect.
The climb up Crystal Mountain doesn't afford many views, except for a very picturesque pond dotted with water lilies and bordered by cattails. This is duch a serene and beautiful place. I would love to sit here for some time, but I only take time for a few pictures.
I cross the mountain and start down on the other side. I've gone 15 miles and still have a few to go, and I feel really energized, like I could hike much farther. I cross a stream and see a gentleman gathering water into a Gatorade bottle and drink it straight from the source. He introduces himself as Deer Stalker from Britain. He just jumped ahead from the Washington Monument at Gathland State Park in Maryland and today is his first day in New England. He looks like he is positively melting in the afternoon heat.
He tells me about how he got off the trail and attended the 4th of July festivities in Gettysburg. He seemed quite impressed with the parades and fireworks, and says "I love America!" in a such a genuine way.
I come down from the mountain and onto Furnace Hill Road heading into Cheshire, Massachusetts. It is 3:15 and I've done 18 miles in 8 hours, with three thousand feet of vertical gain. I'm meeting dad at an ice cream shop right on the trail in the middle of town.
When I walk up to the ice cream shop, I see my dad has the liftgate open and he is talking to two hikers, doling out trail magic of Powerades and snacks. Zen is one of the hikers, and the other is named Marsupial (because he wears a front pack in addition to his backpack).
Dad says he is really dragging today and one look tells me he isn't feeling well. Zen tells me that dad's leg gave out while he was trying to use the facilities at the nearby hiker campground. Thankfully Zen was there to help him get up and get back to the truck. I see Dad shuffling around the vehicle holding on for support and I suggest he has a seat at the picnic table while I get him a milkshake, worried his blood sugar may be low.
He sips on the milkshake but says he's worried something's going on with his head neurologically. I walk him back to the car and ask him if he knows the date.
He responds "I just looked this up, it's June."
Nope, it's July. Now I'm worried. He doesn't typically get mixed up like this. I see that the nearest hospital is only 8 minutes away, and on the way there his condition slowly deteriorates. He starts slurring his words and he is speaking very slowly and deliberately like he's trying to come up with the right things to say.
We arrived at the emergency room and I grab a wheelchair. I wheel him inside and I am telling the registrar about his weakness, slurred speech, and inability to recall the date, explaining that this came on suddenly and is very unlike him. A nurse hears our conversation and immediately comes over and wheels him back to the triage area. He is unable to give his name and date of birth at this point, and I am so worried. These are all hallmark signs of a stroke.
The staff is amazing. They jump in and insert an IV and grab his labs while he's getting registered which only takes a couple of minutes, then the nurse wheels him back to the trauma area.
A bevy of nurses, techs, and doctors cram into the small room, and within minutes he has an EKG and a chest x-ray.
Another doctor comes in and talks with him, and he has difficulty with recall but he is able to enunciate now without slurring. About 10 minutes later he is yucking it up with the staff and joking around with the doctors and nurses; just like that he is back to normal.
All the tests so far come back negative and they are going to keep him overnight for observation just to be in the safe side. I go back to the hotel to collect some of his belongings and return to the ER, where he is waiting to be admitted.
More doctors come into the room to admit him, and he insists I go back to the hotel knowing that he is out of the woods (pun not intended!). Right now the doctors think it could be related ro a viral infection, which would explain the weakness and confusion. He has reported some sinus congestion and a scratchy throat the last two days, but he thinks it attributable to allergies.
I return to my hotel room, and I am dead tired. By the time I shower it's after nine o'clock, and I feel like I've been up for days. The adrenaline rush of thinking that he was an imminent danger is replaced by an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion.
I'm climbing into bed and getting ready to give him a call to say good night when a text comes through on our group chat with our family. Dad lets everyone know that his covid test was positive. I am actually more relieved now knowing that there is a reason for his behavior. I give him a call and he says he is comfortable and will keep me posted.
I'm so glad he is okay! The trail can wait!
**update** So not only does he have Covid, but he did have a stroke. Thankfully he has no residual problems, and he was discharged from the hospital the next day, when we left directly to go home.
I developed symptoms en route, so I'm happy to convalesce at home as well.
Today's Stats: 18 miles, 2,650 feet gain
Trail Stats: 1,585 miles, 307K feet gain
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