Kevin's AT Thru Hike

Day 57, Thursday, 5/12 – When my folks were driving down to visit, my mom knitted a baby hat on the way. She gave it to me, to give to a hiker, who knew someone expecting a child. Today was the day I gifted the apple hat!

I packed up this morning and hiked out around 8am. I stopped at the first water source to fill up, and met 2 Canes. We ended up hiking the entire morning together and had a great conversation. One of the topics discussed was family. It turns out that his son, Jordan, was expecting his 1st child. This will be 2 Cane’s 4th grandchild. When he told me about the baby, I stopped, took off my pack, and gifted him the hat. Understandably, he was surprised, and also very gracious. I could tell it meant a lot to him. Later into our conversation I learned that he is Christian. He was happy to learn that Mom prays for the baby as she knits the hat. It went to the right person.

Around noon, I stopped for some food at Kelly Knob, then hiked on alone. I descended from the ridge and hiked through beautiful pastures for about 5 miles.

I then hiked back up, and walked along a rocky ridge for a few miles. There was a gorgeous view of the valley from the ridge. The shades of green in the hills were especially noteworthy. I also got to watch a rain cloud move in through the valley. Naturally, I ended up hiking into the rain, which ended up being pretty light.

Just before the final descent to the shelter, I saw a sign for the Eastern Continental Divide. Waters on the West side of Sinking Creek Mountain flow into the Mississippi River and the Gulf of Mexico, while the East side flows into the James River and Atlantic Ocean. I didn’t know that there was an Eastern Continental Divide until today.

I was very tired and hungry towards the end of the hike. I rolled my ankles a few times today. I think its a combination of fatigue and carelessness.

I hiked 21 miles total to Niday Shelter (mile 688). I found Karen and Jeff at the shelter, and also met KJ and Hays. It’s always nice seeing familiar faces.

I was in an irritable mood when I got into camp. It doesn’t help that I dumped my macaroni noodles on the ground. I was straining the water after they had cooked, and the lid wasn’t secure. I sat there for a good 15 minutes picking up every last noodle. I picked out as much dirt and debris as I could, and proceeded to eat them. It actually tasted fine. I mixed in Fritos so when I bit into something crunchy, I would think it was food. I felt bad after cooking dinner, I shouldn’t have dumped the starch water as it doesn’t follow Leave No Trace principles. I was just tired and needed to go to bed.

I found myself playing with numbers during the hike. I determined how many miles per day I’ve hiked, and calculated when I’d be complete if I hiked at certain paces. Even though I was doing this, I really don’t find it helpful. I don’t have a deadline, and I shouldn’t plan around an arbitrary date.

Since hiking alone, I’ve had more time to type, so here are a few insights!

When Martin was visiting, we were sleeping at the alpaca farm with the window open. I was awoken just before dawn, repeatedly, by a loud, “Cock-A-Doodle-Doo” from a rooster. Now I’m an ardent believer in evolution, but I can’t for the life of me conceive how this behavior is evolutionarily stable. You have a large, tasty bird, that cannot fly well, and starts its morning by announcing it’s whereabouts. If I was a hungry wolf, just starting my day, I would find my way over to the screaming rooster. If every wolf adopted the strategy of eating the loud, tasty roosters, then there would soon be no more roosters. Or only the roosters that don’t announce their whereabouts would remain. Yet here we are…

This might be TMI for some, but people talk about their digestive system more out here, so I’ll share anyway. I have a theory. If everyone had to dig a cat-hole every time they needed to poop, diet would improve immediately. For example, I wish I could pack out vegetables to get more dietary fiber in my diet. Unfortunately, vegetables weigh too much, are not calorically dense, and spoil. To get my point across without getting too graphic, I’ll offer up an analogy. When walking a dog, you have to pick up after it. If the dog’s droppings aren’t solid, you ask yourself what you fed the dog that lead to that condition. Remembering the food you gave the dog, you come to the conclusion that you had better not feed the dog such-and-such again. Bottom line, there is a feedback loop that influences diet decisions that has been severed by the conveniences of modern plumbing.

When I hike in the rain, my prescription eyeglass fog up. They fog up so bad, that I see better without glasses on. Anytime I take my glasses off for an extended period of time, I can’t help thinking about all the humans that lived with bad eyesight before prescription glasses were invented. Prescription eyeglasses have really only been around for a few hundred years, whereas humans have existed for a few hundred thousand years. Anyway, the reason I bring this up is because I understand how people thought they saw Sasquatch. They couldn’t see…