Fried telephone and leeches: long journey of the first day

Day one, Saturday August 16

Williamstown, Mass to the start of the long road to Congdon Shelter.

Distance: 13.3 miles (13.3 miles total).

Bad night’s sleep

Despite the excellent filet mignon dinner and good phone calls with my wife Lee and my 97-year-old mother, I didn’t sleep well.

Some nervousness was to be expected when starting this trip, I understand that. However, it was disturbing to have quite a few night sweats and also, for the third day in a row, slight leg cramps. I know how to abort cramps by immediately lifting my toes, but why do they happen?

In the dark, my mind wandered everywhere. A nagging worry about the cancer coming back, instigated by the strange sensation of random nerve firing in my legs, pushed me toward a half-hypothesis. The leukemia was removing a lot of electrolytes from my blood to grow, the night sweats were a response to expel water to maintain electrolyte balance, and that imbalance also caused leg cramps. It all might have made (a little) sense except that I was definitely in remission. Still I pondered these possibilities until a strange sound caught my attention.

Listening carefully, I finally identified it as the coffee maker spontaneously starting up. Well then it must be morning, time to get up!

Back on the road

Ben and his family were going to take me from Essex Junction to the south end of the Long Trail. It was a trip of approximately three hours. To start walking before 10:00 am and still have time for a great breakfast in North Adams, Massachusetts, we had to leave well before 6 am

As we drove, the girls slept a little further back. Ben and I chatted and the three hours seemed to go by quickly. I kept looking at the mountains to my right and thinking, «Soon I’ll be there somewhere, walking.»

Ben had chosen Renee’s Diner as the best breakfast stop very close to the trailhead. We arrived and placed our orders. To fuel my engine I ordered country hash and homemade corned beef. After breakfast I went to the bathroom and when I came out I was told that the restaurant was closing, effective immediately. It seemed so strange! Apparently a key member of the kitchen had suddenly become ill and they were closing.

A family walk and a farewell

We met at the parking lot and then headed to the Williamstown trailhead. There are two options for getting to the Vermont-Massachusetts border. One involves following the Appalachian Trail (AT) from the highway junction. The other, which we selected, takes the Pine Cobble Trail for 2.1 miles before meeting the AT and continuing 1.2 miles more to the state line.

It was a beautiful sunny day, but with each passing moment and each step uphill, it got hotter and hotter. Damn, it was hot! With all four members of Ben’s family accompanying me, I made light of the heat and elevation. However, we were climbing steeply over rocks and I was worried about the girls coming down. There was no doubt that I was sweating a lot!

At the Pine Cobble overlook we had ascended about a thousand feet and there were beautiful views of the valley. We rested and debated whether Ben and Melody should finish off the girls or if we should all continue to the state line. I tried not to express any preference, but I admit I was glad when they decided to continue.

Family at Pine Cobble Lookout – all smiles!

It was difficult. Probably only another 500 feet of elevation gain, but we were already hot, sweaty, and tired, so it wasn’t easy. I felt bad for my granddaughters and kept wishing we would get to the damn south terminal so they could turn around and go back to the car. Finally, finally, I saw the signs in a wooded clearing ahead. We had done it!

Sign marking the southern terminus of the Long Trail: Goodbye Massachusetts!

There was some celebration, lots of pictures taken, hugs and goodbyes. Part of me worried about them, about having to make it back the 3.3 miles to the parking lot. I told everyone that be carefulstressing that going down those rocky slopes would be more dangerous than going up. The silent part of me worried about me. If I was so tired after only 3.3 miles, how the hell was I going to drive the next 273 miles?

Just starting out and already hot and sweaty

Very soon, we parted ways. The four of them returned to the car and I headed north, alone, finally into Vermont, on the “real” Long Trail.

The closest shelter was Seth Warner, just 5.6 miles ahead, but I had decided to make it to Congdon Shelter, ten miles away. Since it was already noon, I knew I had to try to make good time. I had started at about 600 feet in elevation and had already climbed much of the day, but there was still a 3,025-foot peak to cross on the way to the shelter.

I was often sweating a lot and the sun was on me and I wasn’t in the best shape. So not only was I drenched in sweat, I was soaked! I tried to “embrace the suck” and the many lovely toads hopping along the trail helped me achieve this. Some were big, others tiny. I periodically pulled my phone out of my wet pocket and took pictures along the way.

Close-up video of the toad: sorry for the shaky hand…

Not the wildlife I expected!

He was especially worried about water, because word got out that there was a drought in Vermont. Many of the usual water filling places were now dry. No matter how much I was sweating, I didn’t want to get dehydrated.

As a result, when I was low on water, I wasn’t picky about where to fill it. Mid-afternoon I passed a beaver pond and decided to refuel there. This is usually not a good idea, since beaver ponds are full of beaver droppings, and «beaver fever» is what hikers call Giardia, a nasty parasitic disease that causes gastric upset. However, my squeeze bottle was advertised as being effective at filtering them out, so I was willing to give it a try.

Giardia (from Wikipedia)

Finding a spot where I could perch on a rock or log to draw water took a little work. The first place I grabbed some water seemed fine, but I could barely get my soft bag deep enough to fill it with much water. Therefore, for the second filling I went to another place. When I submerged the bag I was instantly attacked – by leeches! In less than a second I had three of them in my hand and one was already attached! He was even drawing blood. Disgusting!

Panoramic pond, just watch out for the monsters lurking below!

Needless to say, that was the last time I tried to fill my water from a beaver pond! I wonder, however, what amazing sense they must have to detect the imminent approach of a warm-blooded animal and be ready to attack so quickly. After I got over my disgust, a little admiration came over me…

Camping in the deep twilight

I continued. I kept thinking that the shelter was close and I kept being wrong. Drenched in sweat, with the onset of twilight, I finally approached Congden Shelter. There were many people camping around, but I continued until I reached the shelter itself. It was 7:00 pm and I had been walking for nine hours. Nine hours for just 13.4 miles? That seemed pathetic to me. Find out, it’s less than 1.5 miles per hour. That number really made me realize how far I was from having my trail legs.

There were a lot of people at the shelter, so I decided to spend the first night in my tent. There was an open space not far from the shelter and I began to settle into the gloom. I began to soak my dinner, knowing it would take an hour to be ready. You see, I’m that rare bird: a «cold soaker.» Instead of carrying a stove and fuel, I simply soak my freeze-dried food in unheated water. It works (pretty well) but requires a much longer soak to be ready.

It had been a year since I last set up my tent, so I was nervous about doing it for the first time in the dark. It took a couple of minor bugs to remind me how it was supposed to work, but overall I was satisfied.

Simply hang your food – it’s easy!

Once I had set up my tent, the twilight was even deeper and I decided it would be best to hang my Ursack with the food I had left to keep it away from any bears in the surrounding area. The problems were the lack of available branches and my Ursack, which was extremely heavy as it was on the first day with a full load of food. Finally I chose a branch that seemed suitable. Again and again (and again!) I tried to throw a rock with my tied rope over the branch. I felt pretty unlucky, but I finally made it. Hurrah!

Then I climbed my Ursack up the tree. Mission accomplished.

Until… Crack! The branch broke under the weight and everything collapsed.

It was already too dark to continue without light, so I put on the flashlight and went to look for another tree. I found one that was big and sturdy. Maybe it wasn’t as high off the ground or as far from the trunk as I would have liked, but in the dark…damn! – would have to be enough.

It was very dark now. I went into my tent and ate my dinner. Ideally, the dirty plate would have also ended up in the hanging Ursack, but he simply didn’t have the strength. Instead, I decided to text my family and go to sleep.

I am a human ocean: who knew?

Send messages to my family? To my great surprise, my phone’s battery, which was full that morning, was now completely dead. It seemed too fast. No problem though, I had bought a new portable power bank especially for this trip. I would just plug my phone in and… No. The moment I plugged the charger in, it showed a «charging» message, but a second later it showed an error and wouldn’t charge. My phone was fried.

I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t fallen into the beaver pond. I hadn’t slipped while crossing a river. It hadn’t poured rain on me. No, I had done it to myself. My phone had fried in my pocket because my own sweat got into the charging port!

I decided to try again in the morning. Maybe it would have dried out. Otherwise, not having raw rice to dip in, I would put it in an empty sealed bag containing freeze-dried food. They all contained desiccants and I would put one next to the phone. I had no idea if any of this would work. But I would try.

For now, I just needed… desperately… to go to sleep.