Appalachian Trail Mile 1884.5

Monday, September 18, 2017 (Day 139)

I rose early, without motivation to ambulate. At all. Whatsoever.

Then I consider the sunrise. I go in search of its presentation to the world.

I return to my bag.

I look at my water. It is less than appealing. Off color with many sediments and floating particles of unknown origin. Without the recently misplaced rubber o-ring, my Sawyer Mini water filter was, well, useless. I transfer the water from one bottle to the other. I am unsure what I think that will accomplish.

Suddenly, a loud crisp chime and the sound of industrial locomotion. Men working on the gondola. I smile. They smile back. I pack up to go.

I came across a leaf on trail that was directing a small flow from a tiny spring. I emptied my bottles and fill them with the cold, clear liquid.  Already feeling dehydrated, I drank a liter before I moved on.

The day grew gray as the sun moved through the sky behind a cover of clouds. When night came, the forest grew heavy, thick, and damp. The giant slanted slabs of smooth stone that comprised the trail became slick as tiny droplets of rain fell from the sky.

I fell. Twice.

The second tumble scared me. It was sudden and out of control. I landed contorted, legs splayed. Items fell from within my pack. I wanted to cry.

I stood and continued.

It was very foggy, but I could still see. I continued passed the shelter, determined to find an alternate place to camp. Spurts of rain continued to come and go. There was no where to camp in sight. The trail continued to climb. Soon I would be atop another mountain, cold and exposed to the elements.

Finally I came to a proper tentsite. I cowboy camped just beyond it, to facilitate quick set up of my tent, should it decide to rain with fervor.

I had moved so slowly. Only 11 miles. My body aches.

Not good enough.

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