Miles hiked: 370.4 (August) 1997.7 (total)
Average Daily Milage: 11.92
Zero Days: 3
States Hiked In: 3
Number of 4000' + Mountains Climbed: 28 (in August)
Gear Destroyed: all my gear is almost destroyed since entering Maine
Number of times Maine tried to kill me: too many to count
Times I thought of quitting the trail: 1
Times the trail took my breath away: to many to count

August 31: It rained quite hard overnight. We were set up on wooden tent platforms at the campsite, which in theory should make things a little less messy than if we were set up on the ground. Unfortunately, the opposite was true: the rain ended up bouncing up off the wooden planks, under the rainfly, and misting inside the tent. Plus, the water pooled on the wood and formed standing puddles under the tent. On the ground, the rain would simply seep into the ground. Sigh.
Additionally, the college kids were up talking all night. I grumbled to myself "Do they HAVE to talk constantly?" Then I thought about it: they are 17-19 years old, away from home for the first time, with a bunch of people they don't know but hope to get to know to build their base of friends in college, and at that age where EVERYTHING is cause for drama. Yes. They DO have to talk constantly! I need to just deal with it. 
 Of course, I would have preferred they didn't talk constantly when they got up at 2am. And got ready to go at 3am. And left a bunch of the faster hikers to take the tarps down and clean up the breakfast stuff and catch up with the rest of the group. A task that could probably have been done easily in 20 minutes or so. But not when you are talking constantly. They got the gear together and rolled out about 4:30am. Good lord!
We got up shortly afterward, since we had been up for hours, anyway. 
The walk into Stratton was damp, but the sun came out and dried things out. The climb wasn't the steepest or hardest, but one of the root-iest so far. Once again, the state of Maine was trying to kill me!
We got to the road and caught a ride from a fellow Mass-hole who also had a place in Maine. He dropped us off in town.
Now, for a town as small as Stratton, I was sure surprised at how busy it was (probably the holiday weekend) The White Wolf Inn was booked. The Stratton Motel was booked. The Plaza Hotel was booked. The Spillover Hotel was booked. Luckily, a local resident recommended the Diamond Corner B&B. Technically, it wasn't open. But L.E., the owner, said she'd open it for a couple of hikers if we didn't mind some dust. Hey, we are hikers! Dust doesn't bother us!
So, accommodations taken care of, we headed over to the Stratton Diner for the "hollow leg breakfast". Polished that off no problem! Then we spent the rest of the day doing laundry, drying out the tents, showering, relaxing, reading, and eating.
We spent some time hanging out with L.E., who was in the process of cooking 22 pies! She was really a cool person. She was the owner of a bed and breakfast, wrote columns for area newspapers, had a couple books out, had a pastry business, an official Maine tour guide, and a ski instructor! Talk about creating an eclectic life just filled with the things she loved. She immediately became one of my idols.
We had dinner at the White Wolf Inn, which was really good, but REALLY SLOW!! I was almost crazy with hunger by the time we ate. Good thing the food was delicious. 
To bed early...big day tomorrow!

DIAMOND CORNER B&B

ALL THE FURNITURE IN THE B&B WAS MADE BY L.E.'S GRANDFATHER -- HOW COOL IS THIS HEADBOARD??

August 30: As per usual, Subaru and I are the first ones up and out. No worries, the rest will surely catch us. We started the day with a decent, not my favorite way to start the day, since the knees aren't warmed up and climbs are much better for that kind of thing. It was a much better descent than yesterday, though. Some slow spots, but not steep and treacherous. At the bottom of the descent, our books warned of Orbeton Stream, which we'd have to ford. We were able to easily rock hop across, though. Late summer brings the water level down and the tops of the rock up over the surface. Nice to not have to get wet. Then, we began to climb (as we always do after a descent, ha-ha!).
The terrain leveled off and we had a few miles of flat, fast, easy terrain. "We must have taken a wrong turn," I said to Subaru, "I don't think we're in Maine anymore. This must be Virginia."
We stopped for lunch at Spaulding Mountain Lean-To and were soon joined by Forrest Gump, Winterflower, Little Engine, Timber, and Ambassador. See? I knew they'd catch up. No worries, I'm at Spaulding Mountain Lean To; I've found my strength.
After lunch, we continued out climb up Spaulding Mountain, but sadly no view at the top. The clouds have started to roll in, we are hoping that rain holds off. We passed the bronze plaque, commemorating the completion of the last section of the AT. Stopped to take pictures, and then moved on to the descent.
Thus far, the day had been fairly easy; some slow sections, but nothing too hard. This descent made up for the rest of the day. Slow, hard, crazy descent making me wonder aloud many times: "How can this even be considered a trail? This is just a bunch of jumbled rocks on a steep slope." Hard to have that at the end of the day. 
We passed another college orientation group along the way. I wonder how I would have felt about going out in the wilderness for a week my freshman year in college? I know I'd love it NOW, but that may have just shocked me too much at that age.
At the bottom of the descent, we crossed Carrabasset River (another "ford" that we were able to carefully rock hop) and a nice flat tenting area on the other side. It was only 3:00; we decided that we should push on to the next campsite. Along the way, we passed a couple south bounders, and we inquired about the possibility of stealth camping further on from Crocker Cirque Campsite. No dice. It sounded like the terrain was steeply pitched and covered with brush-- no possible way to set up a tent.
And so we came to Crocker Cirque Campsite around 4pm. Subaru and I had the place to ourselves. We got water, set up tents, washed up and changed into camp clothes, and then took our time cooking dinner, leisurely eating, and hanging our food. (We were in REAL bear country now. No chances!)
And then, just as we were getting ready to turn in for the night, the college group arrived. There were about 20 kids and two leaders. The leaders very apologetically came over and explained that they would be leaving camp at 3:00am to get over Crocker Mountain (and its two peaks) in time to catch the bus the next morning. So what started out as a secluded, quiet campsite turned into, well, a college party (sans beer). 
That's okay. If I had wanted to be alone, I would have hiked the PCT.

August 29: Sometimes when you play "outwit the weather", you win. More often, you don't. We had been feeling pretty smug during the downpours yesterday, thinking that the rain would pass us by on our zero day and we'd be hiking out under clear skies. It did not work out that way. 

We were up early, ate leftovers from our restaurant visits for breakfast, and then headed to the outfitters for the shuttle. We waited. And waited. And waited. And finally when somebody showed up, they had no inkling that we had scheduled a shuttle the day before. We ended up catching a ride back to the trailhead with another hiker whose wife was out for a visit. And as we drove there, it started raining. 

We put on our rain gear and pack covers in the car and then started out over a wet, slippery, muddy trail. Lots of bog bridges, lots of wet roots. The climb was pretty gradual, which was nice, but very wet. We reached Piazza Rock Lean To for a snack break and there we found Little Engine, Timber, and Ambassador, who were getting a late start. They were playing a little game of outwit the weather themselves, waiting for the rain to stop. They were losing this round. The privy at this shelter had two toilet seats with a cribbage board in between. You know, just in case you want to use the bathroom with your good friend and play a little game at the same time. Outside, there was a sign that said "Your Move". 

After the shelter, the terrain continued in the gentle climb with lots of wetness, and then got sharply steep. We were suddenly on angled rock face, precariously picking our way up Saddleback Mountain. The rain increased, as well. We got passed on the climb by the other three hikers who were moving like they had somebody chasing them. I tried to increase my pace, but ended up slipping and falling a few times so I resolved to my slow, careful pace that has worked so well for me thus far.

At the summit, we hunkered down behind a rock wall to eat, but it was just too cold and rainy at the top, so we pushed on. It got a little more comfortable after a brief descent, so we got some food and then moved on. Today we would pass over three distinct summits: Saddleback, the Horn, and Saddleback Junior. Each was as steep and slippery as the last, each summit was surrounded by clouds and fog. 

When we reached Poplar RIdge Lean to, we were happy to see that there were two more spots left in the shelter so we moved right in, next to Forrest Gump and Winterflower (and Eddie the dog), Occupy, and a section hiker. Little Engine, Timber, and Ambassador had opted to tent. About 20 minutes later, Wilson, Mother Teresa, and Peaches showed up and camped further up the hill. It was a nice, cozy spot and we fell asleep to the sound of a babbling brook.

August 28: While we had taken a conscious effort since Ft. Montgomery, New York to decrease our number of zero days, every once in a while, your body just needs to rest. We figured that since Maine had been killing us with significantly fewer miles per day than any other state, it would be a good idea to zero before the 100 mile wilderness. Rangeley seemed like the perfect place to do so.

We slept in until 7, took a decadent morning shower, and then headed into town for breakfast. We ate at The Inner Eye, which looked kind of funky and cool, but turned out to be very expensive. The food was good, but we may have been better off going to the place with the cartoon moose out front. 

Though the Town and Lake Inn had a fantastic lake, it did NOT have laundry facilities. So after breakfast, we walked down to the laundromat. Inside, we saw Dip and Sip and Newton, who were heading out in the afternoon. They had heard rumors that many of the water sources had dried up and were going to start carrying 3 1/2 liters of water. I was unconvinced. "It's Maine!" I said. "Water is everywhere!" But hey, you have to hike your own hike.

While our clothes were in the drier, we went to the grocery store to resupply. Like the Inner Eye, we found the IGA to be quite pricey. Probably spent twice as much as usual. But hey, you gotta do what you gotta do.

After all the chores were completed, we spent the afternoon in the library, at the post office, lounging in the room watching TV, going back for another ice cream. It rained off and on all afternoon, going from full-fledged downpour to nothing. I was happy to not be hiking! We went to the outfitter to arrange for a shuttle back to the trail the next morning, opted for barbecue again for dinner, and watched Iron Man before bed. Excellent zero day! 

August 27: The thing about getting into camp early,you can get back on the trail early. We were hiking by 6:30. The weather had dried out a bit; the only dampness on the tents was from condensation on the inside of the rainfly. So that was good, since I never like carrying a wet tent.

The terrain started out flat but rocky. We had a number of streams to cross that the guidebook reported we'd have to ford. By this late in the summer, we were rock hopping across or, in a couple instances, walking over dry stream beds. We had a steep climb, and reached a road with some spectacular views!

There was another climb on the other side of the road- some terrain, some rock steps. We once again passed an Outward Bound group who had stopped and were eating in the middle of the trail! Seriously? You guys can't find a rock or a log or something to sit on and eat your reconstituted hummus? It's weird. I did an Outward Bound years ago and the guide had crazy outdoor skills! We'd have never sat down in the middle of a trail to eat. I love Outward Bound. But they seem to be lacking in some trail etiquitte in Maine.

Then we had a steep descent down some stone steps and what I can only describe as a root maze before things flattened out. I mean really flattened out. Flat pine needle carpeted forest path walking. It was wonderful!

We arrived at a sandy beach close to the shelter that Carbon had been shooting for. There was even a picnic table! So we sat down for a snack. It was still a little chilly- we opted to just look at the lake -- but wow! What a picturesque spot. It would be wonderful on a warm day. 

After the sandy beach, the terrain alternated between flat dirt wonderfulness, and root mazes. Those roots are always looking to trip you up. The temperature steadily climbed through the day; by the time we stopped for lunch, I was feeling a bit hot and sticky. I wished that sandy beach had followed us down the trail! Luckily, we reached the road to Rangeley at 2:30- plenty of time to get into town and get settled. 

We caught a ride in from Dan, who owned a bare bones hiker hostel near the trail, but we opted to go to the Town and Lake Inn. They had a descent hiker discount and a lovely spot. Subaru took the first shower while I ran out and jumped in the lake!

Not too shabby a spot!

After we got cleaned up and settled, we went across the street to a barbecue place for lunch and then walked around town. It was a nice little town, pretty touristy with lots of restaurants and stores for dropping large sums of money on things you don't need. We located the library and utilized it for its free wi-fi and then went back to lounge in the room. Since we had already decided that we were going to take a zero day in Rangely, there was no need to run around doing laundry and resupplying today. We just chilled. We ate an ice cream and looked at the ducks and later had a late dinner. We ran into So Way who came up with some strange story about how he was going to do a 60 mile hike tomorrow to meet somebody and drive their car down to Virginia. I think his plan was half baked. Good luck with that. I'm zeroing tomorrow!

August 26: Just like in the White Mountain Hostel, we had grown used to having a home base for slack packing at Pine Ellis. After three nights at the hostel, it was time to move on. (I used Subaru's pad over the trundle bed and prevented springs from poking my ribs this night. Worked well.) We had packed up and were ready to head out with full packs. We ate the leftovers from our chicken-dinner-for-two meal the night before for breakfast and caught the 7 am shuttle to the trail head.

It was not raining today, but it was foggy and it had rained the night before, so everything was wet and slippery. Once again,the day called for slow, careful hiking. We stopped at a bench by an overlook (from which we saw only clouds and fog) and were passed by Carbon. He was set on doing 16 miles today, which was going to be a push on the wet rocks and roots. After the bench, we saw a sign that said 2.7 miles to the next shelter, our lunchtime destination. It was a ridiculously long 2.7 miles, taking us almost two and a half hours! As we were picking our way down the sloped, exposed rock faces, my boots slipped out from underneath me and I ended up sitting down, hard, hyperflexing my knee. I thought I had done some ligament damage, since I felt a pop, but miraculously, when I pulled myself up, the pain disappeared and I could push on without a problem. Thank goodness. 

We reached the shelter to find Carbon there, wrapped in every article of clothing in his pack, lying on his back and looking at the ceiling. "Do the miles seem really long to you?" he asked. Yes. Yes they do. This marked the first shelter where we started seeing graffiti on the wall: Brooks was here (from Shawshank Redemption). Somebody else had sharpied: So was Red. We continued to see this through Maine.

After lunch, we felt rested and much more apt to tackle the day. Well, maybe tackle isn't the optimal word; tiptoe over the wet, slippery rocks was more like it. I fell once again in the afternoon, slipping on a root and pitching forward. Usually, I can catch myself with my trekking poles, but this happened so fast, I found myself sprawled out, pinned underneath my heavy, resupplied pack. I was just about to roll on my side and take my pack off to get up when Subaru grabbed my pack from above and hauled me up. Much easier. We continued on at our slow pace. 

After a long, slow descent, we reached a campsite, our destination for the night. It was still fairly early; we debated pushing on but our books had cautioned that there wasn't great camping terrain. And the campsite was a really nice, flat spot. With a good water source. And we had the whole place to ourselves. So we set up camp, ate, hung our food, and retired early. Good sleep tonight.  

August 25: Up for our second day of slack packing in Maine. I was moderately rested; even though the main house was warmer than the bunk house, I was sleeping on the trundle bed and had spent the night with springs poking into my ribs and back all night. Oh well. We ate breakfast (a cinnamon roll and jerky this morning) and took the 8 am shuttle to East B Street. It was another cold morning, though not as cold as yesterday. I still started the day in tights and a thermal, though. 

We started with a big climb (1400 feet) but it was slow and gradual, spread out over 6 miles. It wasn't overly difficult and not technical, just a climb. We had some nice views along the way- trees and lakes - not as spectacular as yesterday, but nice nonetheless. Man, is Maine isolated! We were hard pressed to find signs of civilization from our viewpoints. And to think, we weren't even in the 100 mile wilderness, yet!

Around 11:00, we ran into a couple guys hiking with their dog. "Don't let my dog push you over the edge of that viewpoint!" one of them said to me. No, YOU don't let your dog push me off the edge, buddy! (The dog was very well behaved. No worries.) They told us about a couple nice viewpoints that our guidebook did not mention. We thanked them and continued on our way. 

About .5 miles from Hall Mountain Lean-to (our lunchtime destination) the trail started meandering along the side of a hill. Not going to the top, not going to the bottom, just going in a zig zag pattern on the side of the hill- up, down,up, down, up, down. Really annoying. And pointless. You'd think I would have gotten used to pointless changes in the trail by now, but somehow, I still found them annoying. 

When we reached the shelter for lunch, we began to wonder aloud if Wilson, Peaches, and Mother Teresa had zeroed today, as we had not yet seen them. And just then, they showed up with Lentil. We talked and ate together and then Carbon appeared. 

Before long, a young (19 years old) solo hiker arrived at the shelter. He was named Glacial Freeze, for his affinity for the Gatorade of that flavor. He was light, skinny, and carrying an ultralight pack. He has started the trail on May 28 and planned to finish on Sept 5! One hundred days- very impressive. He was averaging 25 to 30 miles per day, except for the day before, when he did 15 miles through Mahoosuc Notch and Arm and stopped at Speck Pond Shelter for the night, practically shell shocked from the terrain (like the rest of us). He was feeling a bit hungry after he had finished his lunch, so we offered up some Cliff bars, cheese, and apple, a whoopie pie. We'd need it pulling the big miles he was doing. 

I'm always in awe of people like Glacial Freeze, who can consistently push out big miles and recover to push big miles again the next day. I had struggled with our progress in Pennsylvania and New Jersey, arguing with my hiking partners that we were zeroing too much and that we needed to hike more. Now, I was faced with the fact that I couldn't do big miles because of the extreme Maine terrain. I was a bit envious of Glacial Freeze.

But as he continued talking, I realized that for him, this trip had been all about making the miles. He skipped some really great trail towns (Damascus, Great Barrington, Gatlinberg, Palmerton) simply because he needed to get the miles in. He often reached shelters and campgrounds after dark and left before first light the next day. It didn't sound fun at all.

Sometimes finding the right balance between too much and not enough is difficult. We certainly didn't always find that right balance during our thru-hike, but overall, I was pretty happy with our progress and our hike. I hadn't realized that until I met Glacial Freeze. It was an enlightening lunch.

After lunch, we walked up the hill behind the shelter to look at a viewpoint. Meh. I could have saved my legs. The viewpoints that the guys with the dog had suggested were much better. 

Our afternoon hiking was pleasant; mostly forest walking. Nothing really difficult. When we reached the summit of Mt. Moody ("I think this mountain was named after you," Subaru said to me. And then I pushed him off a cliff. Just kidding! I stuck my tongue out at him.) we called David, the hostel owner, as he had requested. "Ok, you'll finish up around 2:30." he said.

We went down the relatively easy descent from the mountain, crossed a brook, and climbed a hill on the other side of the brook. We popped out onto the road at 2:28, just as David was pulling up in the shuttle. This guy was good!

Again, we'd have a long afternoon to rest and recover. After showering and changing, we walked to the downtown for ice cream. Then we repacked our backpacks, since this would be our last slack pack. The Red Hen diner was closed for dinner, so we went to the other restaurant where they were apparently not as used to hikers and the diner. Everyone there was giving us weird looks as we each ordered a dinner for two and ate it ourselves. Plus a side salad. And dessert. Went to bed early for a longer day tomorrow. 

August 24: We awoke in the bunk house of Pine Ellis Lodging in a cold state. So cold, I emerged from the bunk and immediately put on my warmest jacket. The bunk house had no heat and it had gotten down into the low 40's overnight. My head hurt from cold. 

The hostels in Andover offered slack packing services, and after 9.7 miles almost killing me the day before, I was ready to take them up on those services. The proprietors of the hostel had assured me that I had completed the hardest part of Maine. They also went on to explain how half their jobs was convincing hikers not to quit the AT right there and then after conquering Mahoosuc Notch and Arm. I hadn't considered quitting, I merely entertained the idea that I may just die of sheer exhaustion if the terrain didn't abate somewhat. I was glad to know that I wasn't going to die just yet.

Since we were only going to go 10 miles (without full packs) we had slept in a little and took our time eating breakfast. (Canned raviolis for breakfast. The breakfast of champions!) Then we loaded into the shuttle back to Crawford Notch to begin the hike over Baldplate Mountain. 

It was a clear, sunny day, though still pretty cold. I began hiking in tights and a thermal for the first time since Galehead Hut (at 4000 feet) We started with a steady, gradual 1000 foot climb, then it leveled off, followed by another 1000 foot climb. It wasn't long before the tights and thermal were in the pack and I was traipsing along in shorts and a t-shirt.

As we neared the summit of Baldplate, the terrain changed from forrest, to those 3 foot tall trees at treeline, to exposed  slabs of rock at precarious angles. The last part of the climb was all on exposed rock, making our own switchbacks to find the most reasonable way to the top. Careful hiking. But, oh, the views!

Baldplate summit was marked by a giant cairn and had gorgeous views of Mahoosuc Arm from the day before (It's rather rewarding to look back on yesterday's climb and say "Damn! That's really steep! I'm a rock star!") and of a series of lakes to the west. We descended slightly and came to a flat, table top area of the mountain where we ran into several people eating, napping, lying in the sun. And were treated to 360 degree views of the landscape below! I immediately fell back in love with Maine, mesmerized by her beauty. (Maine would later prove to be like Naomi Campbell, achingly beautiful, but apt to throw a cell phone at your head when you least expected it)

The descent from Baldplate was much like the climb: steep pitched rock slabs that necessitated slow going. Well, maybe necessitated is the wrong word, because we were passed by a couple hikers who were practically running down the rock slabs, letting gravity just pull them along. Of course, I witnessed each of them take at least four face plants using this method to descend. I continued to go slow, my goal revolving around avoiding injuries, not speed. I'd save the face plants for after I got home.

Eventually, we dropped below treeline and the terrain leveled out somewhat. We reached Frye Notch Lean-to, where we stopped for lunch. Before long, we were joined by Wilson, Mother Teresa, Peaches, CodeWalker, Violet, and Carbon. They had whipped out the cell phones before we had and snagged the last spots in the Cabin. Or thought they had. Half of them were tenting out in the yard at the Cabin. It sounded like the food there was really good (although I have a hard time believing that ANYTHING could top canned ravioli for breakfast!) but they were further from town than we were. (a 5 minute walk from the downtown area of Andover. And by downtown, I mean two restaurants and one general store)

The remainder of the day from the shelter to East B Road was relatively mellow. Some rocks and roots were thrown in for good measure, a nice waterfall, and Outward Bound group who, for some reason had chosen to eat lunch sitting right in the middle of the trail - you know, the usual stuff. We finished up and got back to the hostel by 2:30. We showered up and the rest of the afternoon to play with. We did laundry, cleaned our gear, made phone calls, and tried to use the computer but were disappointed (though not surprised) by the slow internet connection in this part of Maine. Subaru bought some local beer and enjoyed it on the front porch, I had a hard blueberry lemonade or two and read. We fought for control over the porch swing's arc and speed.

Then, at 5, we wandered over to the Red Hen Diner. Two other hikers at the hostel, Pacemaker and Runner Up, had told us there was an all-you-can-eat pizza buffet. That sounded great! So at precisely 5:00, six thru-hikers arrived at the diner. We started in on the salad, pacing ourselves. A wave of locals came in, ate their fill, and left. While 6 thru-hikers continued to eat. A second wave of locals came in, ate their fill, and left. While 6 thru-hikers continued to eat. A third wave of locals came in, ate their fill, and left. As 6 thru-hikers were finishing up and preparing to leave. Luckily, the staff of the diner were used to hikers and thought it was funny watching how much we could all put away. 

Back at the hostel, we got ready for bed. We had moved from the bunk house into the main house (which was a bit warmer) and were happy to see that Long Skirt was our roommate! Grizzly, the Professor, and Sparky were in the bunkhouse. And Lentil had arrived, picked up a package, and moved on. 

Great day! And another slack pack was in store for tomorrow.

August 22: Today was the day we entered our 14th state: Maine! Maine, that we had been talking about from day one. Maine, the ultimate destination. Maine, the home of Mount Katahdin. Maine, the end point! We had walked so far to get here!

I'm no stranger to Maine. I've been to Maine several times before; I've gone camping here, swam in the lakes, skied on Maine's mountains. I've come to Maine and had wonderful times. I thought Maine and I were old friends.

 Which is why I was so bewildered when Maine tried to kill me.

Maine tried to kill me repeatedly every single day from the moment I entered the state. I just don't understand it. 

We awoke on August 22, still in New Hampshire, and has been the norm, Subaru and I were the first ones out on the trail. As the day went on, we leap-frogged back and forth with Carbon, So-Way, Lentil, Long Skirt, Code Walker and Violet. 

Beautiful views from the top of Mt Success where we had a snack with Carbon, and then a descent to the state line. The whole gang was there when we arrived, and we took turns taking pictures with the sign. (Others figured out what we could actually pick the sign right up out of the ground and sling it over the shoulder. I contented myself by making moose antlers at the sign for a picture)

Once in Maine, the terrain grew inexplicably harder. It should have been exactly the same as it was before the sign. But no, things got wicked hard. Suddenly, we were struck by rebar in bedrock, wooden steps in the rocks, ladders, roots and rocks, rocks, rocks. The last 2 miles for the descent to Full Goose Shelter seemed ridiculously long. I was positive we had missed a sign, a trail, a turnoff. Because the last sign we saw said 2 miles and once again, it was looking like 1 mile per hour. That HAD to be wrong!  But then, no, it wasn't wrong. Because we were climbing up a rocky path to the shelter. Oh no. This was rough.

Luckily, Carbon had saved us space in the shelter. We got our stuff set up and to ourselves cleaned up. Then a crowd arrived. Thru-hikers Wilson and Mother Teresa arrived with Peaches. The Professor, Dip and Sip, and Newton came next. Forrest Gump and Winterflower arrived with their dog Eddie. And then, two college orientation groups and an Outward Bound group. By the time night fell, there were a good 50 people at the shelter and campsites. Plus, a couple more arrived after dark. 

Overnight, it rained pretty hard; I was so happy we had a spot in the shelter!