Bear Warning
Me and Rolex shared a bed. Cyclone slept in the other one. He and I had a little spat last night about cutting down weight and I was having none of it. I’m not happy about their attitudes about dropping gear. I know we can live without some of this stuff but for some reason I’m willing to suffer to carry what I have. I know it’s going to slow us down but I feel like a Caspar Milquetoast when we talk about cutting down weight. People hiked this trail with much heavier packs than we have now and they didn’t cry about it. They just did it. I’m not into the ultra-light hiker thing. I want my body to adjust to the weight I have. We have some extra gear to be sure but I want to shoulder the burden and keep moving. I want to get stronger. We definitely overestimated the amount of fuel we would need, and we probably only need one stove. Cyclone and I got to arguing about mailing stuff home. I was getting really perturbed that he kept asking me to do another shakedown of my gear. He was going to carry my fuel bottle until I told him he should trim his straps to cut down weight and so he threw the fuel bottle back at me. I know what I’m carrying, if I thought I wouldn’t need something I wouldn’t have brought it! If I had to guess, I’d have to say this is probably going to be a problem area in the future.
Sam in the lobby was a real firecracker. I got some footage of him in his pyjamas. He treated us to a spectacular breakfast in the lobby/kitchen/living room of pastries and orange juice and toast and coffee and then we brought out the Reece's Peanut Butter Cups. Sally came back with Fliver and we got a ride up to Dick's Creek Gap to start out a glorious day of climbing to Standing Indian campground. Lil Cubit showed up with Mad Mt Mike just before we took off and the BSA crew (some Boy Scouts we met the night before) was there too; so we all loaded up and took off together. There was joyous singing and talking and fast hiking of an ordinary nature until we got to Plum Orchard Gap. Cubit hung back and we took off to the next shelter. There were some other guys, kind of secretive, out hiking too but we flew them all. We took a breather and dry Ramen at Muscrat Creek and then as we were filling up our water, the secretive guys showed up then Lil Cubit and an Eagle Scout or two. We were trying to make some miles so we didn’t stick around. Doc took off and we were shortly to follow.
We got in to Standing Indian Shelter pretty early and had done about 18 miles; but there were no Bear Bag lines up so we would have to string our own. The stream was nice and I decided to try to wash up a little bit. Everyone stayed in the shelter except me. My hammock is way more comfortable than the shelter but I set it up a few feet away. We cooked up some food and I couldn’t eat the Lipton Sides thing I made. It was disgusting. I was trying to choke it down but I just couldn’t finish it. I was retching while trying to swallow it. We were having trouble finding a good place to hang the bear bags. Cyclone hung the bags up kind of half-assed and too close to the tree for my taste; but, I was exhausted and didn’t care enough to go through the trouble to move it. We lit a big fire, broke out the guitar and sang a few. Doc was damn adept at starting a fire and although there wasn't much wood around, we figured it out and had a blaze roaring before long.
Earlier, I had gone down to the privy and there were these mice hanging around. One of them was shakin’ like a leaf and he didn’t show any concern for the fact that I was right there. I shooed them out of the privy ‘cause I didn’t want no crazy mice starin’ at me while I took care of business. I guess that’s what they mean when they say, “Crazier than a Shithouse Rat.” It must be the fumes that gets them all jacked up. When I finished and went to throw some dun on the pile, they were already down there, eating the fecal matter I had just deposited. It was more than a little disturbing.
Eventually, the fire died and we retired. I got into my hammock and tried to sleep but there were a lot of ominous, shuffling-leaf noises in the night. There had been a lot of signs warning about bears so I slept with one eye open. Bear thoughts are freakin' me out.
David AKA "Jukebox"
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