Wednesday, September 20, 2017 (Day 141)
Exhausted from such a late night, I did not rise until the afternoon. I curled up in a blatant refusal to rise, using the hood of my sleeping bag to feign darkness.
I wiped the sleep from my eyes. At least I had reclaimed my things.
It was not until 5pm that I had reached the top of the climb. The point I had reached the night before.
I hiked on.
The water sources were all less than appealing. I collected from a brook. Its yellowish waters changed the color of my nalgene. And the foam…what was that foam? Maybe, as another hiker had suggested, the off-color is due to the fallen leaves that gather in its pools. Like a tea of sorts. Yes. I liked that thought.
The night was clear and beautiful.
I came to a campsite by an outlet of Dream Lake. I recalled my hopes of getting here the night before. I sighed.
I sat in the tentsite and did some math. I reviewed miles and days and time. I will still be alright. I said it aloud, in self reassurance “I will still be alright”.
…and hey, I’m nearly to Maine.