Cairns, Carns, everywhere is Cairns
Peru Peak Shelter to Greenwall Shelter: 15 miles
Dawn came slowly, over a period of hours, or so it seemed from under the bundle of my sleeping bag where I had wrapped myself fitfully through the night to avoid the onslaught of mosquitoes that bit through sock and sleeve and attacked any exposed surface. bearded though it may be. The rainsong mingled with the sound of the pregnant stream and as I finally peered from my bag, roused by the packing of my temporary companions, I was greeted by the rain-jangling foliage that surrounded the shelter. The rain on the tin roof morphed from piiter-patter to frenzy and back again all morning and I assuaged my psyche by burrowing further into my bag. I had no desire to put that wet shirt on and sling a pack on my shoulder and navigate over wet, slime-covered rocks and slip-trip down steep winding staircases of roots and rubble with a cumbersome pack swaying from left to right like the smaller of the trees I passed in the stormswept forest. My dreams were of this and other horrible things unrelated like unrequited love and naked speeches as I waited for the day to brighten. All alone in the shelter now, I tried to get it going. I got up and relieved myself in the wet bushes, avoiding raindrops and trying not to brush against the soaking pine branches. I had some breakfast; pepperoni, sharp provologne and pita, only to return pitifully to the sleeping bag, half dressed and half packed and half- hoping for the sun to break through. I knew it wouldn’t. They said that the rain would last until Friday. I wondered briefly if I had enough food to last me here til Friday. I did; but, then I would still have to walk 50 Miles to Killington on M&Ms and whatever mushrooms I could find along the way. I entertained the idea during yet another roll-over on to yet another uncomfortable position and finally decided to get up and get the hell out of there while the rain was only pittering rather than pounding. I didn’t get out of the shelter until about 1230, maybe later. I knew I had to make some miles. I was also out of toilet paper and I had three days to go. I had some moist wipes but I knew it wouldn’t be enough. Maybe I could find some in a Privy or something. I got out of there and hustled. I did find some toilet paper at a really nice privy maintained by a caretaker. I took a little extra for the next two days just in case and then I tried to get some miles. I still feel that hernia thing happening but it seems familiar so maybe I’ve had it before. I’ll walk it off. The rain kept going on and off all day. I got wet, really wet. I changed my socks a couple of times but it would only last a couple of miles before I was swimming in my socks again. It was getting dark already and I had only done about 12 miles. I was trying to get to the Greenwood shelter and I came upon this ghostly site with rock cairns all over everything. It was really spooky in the rain. I took some pictures, there were probably a hundred little rock cairns all over the place, balanced on precarious ledges and even on logs which were balanced in turn on another cairn. It was very strange. I was hoping I was at the shelter when I ran up on another display of freaky cairns. The sign that was there said it went off to some vista instead of going to the shelter as I had hoped. According to the book, I still had a mile and a half to go. I couldn’t believe it; I was sure I was there! Another 30 or 40 minutes to go in the steadily increasing rain; I was losing it. I started telling myself to keep it together. The thing was, the Shelter was another .3 miles off trail and the water source was questionable and just because it was raining like mad didn’t mean that there would be a stream. Sooner than the book said, the shelter trail came up and I trudged through rain and mud to get there. Snickers and Pack Animal were there and a bunch of kids that I didn’t see under a tarp down the hill. This rain is getting worse and I’ll probably sit around till noon or worse tomorrow. I had to find the water source and it wasn’t all that exciting: just a dribble out of a rusty pipe. It took a while to fill up and by the time I got back it was fully dark. I cooked in the dark and cleaned up and was too damn lazy to hang a bear bag. It seems like no one hangs them here, they just hang them in the shelter from mouse hangs and go to sleep; well, I might as well do it too. I’ll try to blog in the morning instead of just sitting there and watching the rain. I’m never going to catch Croc Hunter like this.David AKA “Mister Gentle Spirit”
Website
http://www.wbafinc.org/
Photos:
http://www.photobucket.com/brotherproof
Videos:
http://www.youtube.com/WBAF1
Dawn came slowly, over a period of hours, or so it seemed from under the bundle of my sleeping bag where I had wrapped myself fitfully through the night to avoid the onslaught of mosquitoes that bit through sock and sleeve and attacked any exposed surface. bearded though it may be. The rainsong mingled with the sound of the pregnant stream and as I finally peered from my bag, roused by the packing of my temporary companions, I was greeted by the rain-jangling foliage that surrounded the shelter. The rain on the tin roof morphed from piiter-patter to frenzy and back again all morning and I assuaged my psyche by burrowing further into my bag. I had no desire to put that wet shirt on and sling a pack on my shoulder and navigate over wet, slime-covered rocks and slip-trip down steep winding staircases of roots and rubble with a cumbersome pack swaying from left to right like the smaller of the trees I passed in the stormswept forest. My dreams were of this and other horrible things unrelated like unrequited love and naked speeches as I waited for the day to brighten. All alone in the shelter now, I tried to get it going. I got up and relieved myself in the wet bushes, avoiding raindrops and trying not to brush against the soaking pine branches. I had some breakfast; pepperoni, sharp provologne and pita, only to return pitifully to the sleeping bag, half dressed and half packed and half- hoping for the sun to break through. I knew it wouldn’t. They said that the rain would last until Friday. I wondered briefly if I had enough food to last me here til Friday. I did; but, then I would still have to walk 50 Miles to Killington on M&Ms and whatever mushrooms I could find along the way. I entertained the idea during yet another roll-over on to yet another uncomfortable position and finally decided to get up and get the hell out of there while the rain was only pittering rather than pounding. I didn’t get out of the shelter until about 1230, maybe later. I knew I had to make some miles. I was also out of toilet paper and I had three days to go. I had some moist wipes but I knew it wouldn’t be enough. Maybe I could find some in a Privy or something. I got out of there and hustled. I did find some toilet paper at a really nice privy maintained by a caretaker. I took a little extra for the next two days just in case and then I tried to get some miles. I still feel that hernia thing happening but it seems familiar so maybe I’ve had it before. I’ll walk it off. The rain kept going on and off all day. I got wet, really wet. I changed my socks a couple of times but it would only last a couple of miles before I was swimming in my socks again. It was getting dark already and I had only done about 12 miles. I was trying to get to the Greenwood shelter and I came upon this ghostly site with rock cairns all over everything. It was really spooky in the rain. I took some pictures, there were probably a hundred little rock cairns all over the place, balanced on precarious ledges and even on logs which were balanced in turn on another cairn. It was very strange. I was hoping I was at the shelter when I ran up on another display of freaky cairns. The sign that was there said it went off to some vista instead of going to the shelter as I had hoped. According to the book, I still had a mile and a half to go. I couldn’t believe it; I was sure I was there! Another 30 or 40 minutes to go in the steadily increasing rain; I was losing it. I started telling myself to keep it together. The thing was, the Shelter was another .3 miles off trail and the water source was questionable and just because it was raining like mad didn’t mean that there would be a stream. Sooner than the book said, the shelter trail came up and I trudged through rain and mud to get there. Snickers and Pack Animal were there and a bunch of kids that I didn’t see under a tarp down the hill. This rain is getting worse and I’ll probably sit around till noon or worse tomorrow. I had to find the water source and it wasn’t all that exciting: just a dribble out of a rusty pipe. It took a while to fill up and by the time I got back it was fully dark. I cooked in the dark and cleaned up and was too damn lazy to hang a bear bag. It seems like no one hangs them here, they just hang them in the shelter from mouse hangs and go to sleep; well, I might as well do it too. I’ll try to blog in the morning instead of just sitting there and watching the rain. I’m never going to catch Croc Hunter like this.David AKA “Mister Gentle Spirit”
Website
http://www.wbafinc.org/
Photos:
http://www.photobucket.com/brotherproof
Videos:
http://www.youtube.com/WBAF1
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