TRAIL DAY 92
Sun, May 22, 2016 I don’t remember if I was still up or just woke up from the rain pelting the tent. Whichever it was, I loved it!
Nothing was cozier on the trail than being comfortable under a thin piece of fabric as the world outside became anything but cozy. A home in a pocket of your backpack now doing its job with that backpack inside it along with all your other worldly possessions and all you needed for nourishment, clean-up and relief.
Cozy! And soon off to sleep again for sure. At least I didn’t have to worry about that mouse or even bears. A good pelting rain must keep all but frogs inside, wherever that is.
When it was time to wake I made my way into the woods at the far side of a huge boulder in front of our tent to pay my respects to Mother Nature.
On my return, Theo was taken aback by his own perception of the eeriness of our campsite. Something on top of the boulder was animal like and threatening to him. In time, perhaps because the thing did not move or respond to his growling, he allowed himself to be satisfied that nothing amiss would happen.
Leaving our real and imaginary animal-infested campsite, Theo and I continued into yet another overcast and wet day as I noted more burgeoning nature in a wet spring along a dirt path through the woods, coming in time to a fallen chipmunk, alive but barely moving. Had he been attacked or had old age taken hold?
I remember well stopping at a rectangle of log seats for lunch even as a drizzle threatened to dampen our mood. We managed regardless and ate mostly undisturbed although passed by another hiker or two as we dined.
Until now, the trail undulated for several miles soon leading to The Priest. We were not there for confession – just 800′ of penance taking us to an elevation of 4063′. Why this mountain was called The Priest is unclear except I wondered if it had anything to do with a rock near the top that resembled a miter.
The descent from The Priest was a tad (Pennsylvania Dutch for “a little”) over 3000′ and it was fairly steep. We were in what in Vermont is known as “the long green tunnel” until there was a break in the forest opening up to a spectacular view. I lingered for a while to take it in, impressed with what looked like a formless prism in haze collected in a distant valley. The occasional circling vulture added to the singular beauty of the scene.
Soon the trail led over a suspension bridge to a camp across the Tye River. It was around 6:30 p.m.
As I was setting up my tent, another hiker came by and considered staying but trekked on, perhaps to Harpers Creek Shelter 2.8 miles up and down a foothill to Three Ridges Mountain that awaited me in the morning.
There was a fire pit at this campsite and I set up for supper against nearby rocks where former campers had stared into the mystery of radiant gasses, transported to regions beyond the conscious mind. Glorious it is to have such moments in the woods, alone with your dog and the sounds of the rushing river.
When I got water from the Tye River, I had to be careful that none of my gear was swept away by the current. There were times on the trail that you’d be scooping water out of a very shallow hole or using a leaf positioned atop a small rock to elevate the tiniest stream even slightly above the ground so you could get the mouth of your container under it. I also used a sturdy plastic bag with handles that apples were sold in and would hold the edge in a very thin flow to capture what I could. This bag came in handy at other times as you’ll see. It was also Theo’s water bowl on occasion. So was half a jerky bag.
Tonight there was no problem collecting water and no great distance to trek to get it. It was right there, rushing by us in a swift audible torrent I would mute with earplugs for sleep.
Oooh – bring earplugs and J&J Powder for sure. For me, J&J is better than medicated Gold Bond found at most resupply spots.
Nighty-night.
Day #92 Piney River north fork > Tye River 13.3 miles