Thursday, August 17, 2017 (Day 106)
I woke to two hikers speaking. They were male voices, they spoke of a friend who was busted for marijuana possession. I looked about me and saw no one. It was 4 am. I fell back asleep. Again, I woke to the speaking, seemingly disembodied voices. It was now 5 am. I spoke meekly, “Hello? Where are you?” There was no response, and I drifted off once more.
Next, two female hikers crossed the grass behind me to collect water from the spigot on the side of the ivy building. I lifted my head and giggled dreamily, smiling at the hikers, and once again returned to sleep.
Finally, a distant gate of the hydroelectric plant lifted, and thus, so did I.
As I was gathering my things I noticed I had broken my glasses in my sleep. Oh, how unfortunate! I was relieved to discover that the arm of my spectacles had detached in the most fixable of ways. I used my small Swiss Army knife to cut tiny strips out of the sticky part of a band-aid, and used these strips to affix the arm back to the frame. There! That should suffice until I get my hands on some super glue.
I set on my way.
I crossed the Housatonic River on a bridge. The mist rose from the river toward the morning light. I watched the water cascade down rock edges, foamy and pursuant in the distance.
I reentered the woods and came across a piped spring, straight from the earth and ice-cold.
The day was full of challenging climbs, including Lion’s Head and Bear Mountain, the highest peak in Connecticut.
At only a quarter past 8 pm, I had to use my headlamp to guide my way. How rapidly the seasons are changing, the days growing shorter with each passing day.
I crossed the Massachusetts border.
I sat beside a brook with a strong flow. I had intended to continue. I stretched out my body on the earth beside the water. My feet ached and my legs were sore. I surrendered to stillness. I did not get up again that night.