Caught on a private path in the length

TAndpically, during the first nights outside, I don’t sleep well. Last night, however, I slept quickly and deeply, waking up only occasionally to the feeling of a mouse that runs through my sleeping bag (how disgust!).

In the morning, I am awake for a few minutes before leaving the warmth of my cocoon, and the look while the sun begins to slowly shine from the red leaves in the upper part of the forest.

Finally, once I can no longer deny the lack of need for my lighthouse, I begin to move. Yesterday, I was diligent about stopping and recording as soon as I felt something rubbing on my feet, and today my feet thank me for it. Apart from my bee bites (they still hurt!), My legs and feet feel great.

City noises

The morning goes incredibly without problems and before realizing, I am 5 miles inside and in my next water source. I climb the little shore along the way, picked up water, filter and prepared to ascend the thousand feet back to the crest.

It is strange to hear so many noises of civilization while here on an excursion, even only a few days later. Somehow it is comforting. I know that I am never far from a hot meal, a shower bed and medical help if I need it, but I wonder if I feel so pressed against the cities all the time will make it more difficult to feel settled in the rhythm and routine of through that I love it.

Divided rock

In the uphill after the water source, I passed through a division in a rock called divided rock called due to the division in the rock from where the rock separated.

Fudge walks through the division in the divided rock.

Just a day and a half on the road, I still have the energy and motivation to throw down the side and stop at the top.

The path is still quite cruise, and I stop for lunch at Little Pond Lookout. Lunch is cold ramen and some french fries before stretching my hips and continuing.

I do not remember any other path where I felt so good from the beginning and this is absolutely the path that I have put in shape and the least prepared.

There is no good humor good, very bad

In the afternoon, just when the shadows start lengthening, I hit my wall in the afternoon and the day is downhill from there. Develop two new blisters on where my Achilles rubs against my shoe and tape does not help. The path becomes more rocky and steep, and the sudden descent does twingas on my back with each step.

At least bees bites have become less inflamed.

The last mile of the shelter passes at a rhythm of snails and, once I arrived at the shelter, I burn my dinner so comfortably that I cannot eat it and try with a limited success to scrape the blackened pieces of the bottom of my pot.

To top it off, I block me in privilege and I have to shout for help.

Sunset in a shelter

Once the sun begins to wear (we stopped early in this shelter specifically to see the sunset!), I climb in my bag and see the clouds taking a pink dye. No one else is shown in the shelter, and I look forward to a silent night without mouse.

Today I heard «Piece of My Heart» by Janis Joplin and sounded like burned dinners and bloody heels.

This website contains affiliate links, which means that the walk can receive a percentage of any product or service that you buy using the links in the items or ads. The buyer pays the same price that would do it differently, and his purchase helps to support the continuous objective of the walk to address his quality backpack advice and information. Thanks for your support!

For more information, visit the page about this site.