Day 41: An Existential Crisis

Summary
June 5th

Clarence Fahnestock State Park to NY RT 52 (to Countryside Motel in Cold Springs)

NOBO mile# 1434.1

Tolmann’s daily mileage 12.1

Tolmann’s total mileage 419.4

Damn!! Damn, damn, damn!!!

Woke up today to that feeling I am most afraid of: I didn’t want to get up and walk! They were forecasting rain again today, and I knew that Tilly and Hops would be up early and off. I didn’t want to get into my wet clothes, I didn’t want to pack up, and, most especially, I didn’t want to have to cope with sore feet and shoulders. 

I went up to the bath house to change a little after 6am, and found Hops there. I asked about their plans, saying that I myself was going to try for the Morgan Stewart shelter, another 14 mile day. Hops suggested that Tilly was considering a short day to the RPH shelter, around 5 miles. When I compared how I felt about walking 5 vs. 14 miles, I could feel some motivation awaken. Still, I thought the 14 mile day was probably doable. It didn’t hurt that there was a short road walk to a deli at 12 miles. 

So I got ready, had breakfast, packed up my wet things, and walked the mile+ back past the concession stand to the trail. I tried for the second day in a row to just wear the one layer of socks, having bandaged the problem toes and put moleskin on the blisters on the left heel. I also tried lubing up my feet again. 

The pain was immediate this morning, feet and shoulders. I had mis-loaded my pack so it was leaning to the right, and so putting pressure on my left shoulder. Yesterday I had the opposite problem, but that at least relieved some of the pressure on the left side. 

There wasn’t anything I could do; even cinching down the hip belt wasn’t working. 

And today I was feeling pain in my long toe on the right foot, as well as the left. 

There is little space for joy when each step reminds you there is something wrong. I get this is one of the things people are talking about when they say hiking the AT is mostly mental; but there is hiking through/despite the pain, and then there is figuring out why it hurts and correcting it. I’ve been bulling through my problems for too long. If I want to save my hike, something has to change.

I got to RPH shelter around 11:15. T&H were there. The first thing I said was, “so what’s the verdict?” Meaning, are you staying here or going on? Tilly said, “We want to go to the deli.” Meaning, going on. <sigh> I had convinced myself the short day would be good for me. 

They had had a good rest, eaten a warm meal, and were preparing to leave. Hops noticed a pack scale, and weighed his pack: 31lbs. I nervously did the same: 39lbs. That couldn’t be right; I was sure it was closer to 50lbs. Mulga had shown up and validated the accuracy of the scale; he had moved my pack the day before, and thought 39lbs. sounded about right. So I am asking myself, why does it feel like 50lbs. to me? More on that later…

Then everyone started leaving the shelter, and I made a bad decision (a trend for me, no?): I saddled up and left, taking no significant break, and having no lunch, and not taking shoes and socks off to air my toes. I stepped right back into the misery of the morning, ratcheted up a few levels.

Eventually I caught up with everybody (suggesting I was pushing myself pretty hard), crossed a road, then started back up again, a relentless climb with little to break it up. 

I’ve been lonely on the trail; I miss my best friend and life partner with ferocious, frightening intensity. I’ve been exhausted to the point of tears. I’ve fallen more times than I can count. There have been times I’ve felt like the trail itself is holding me back, bushes and rocks and roots grabbing the tips of my trekking poles, or catching the toes of my shoes, or slapping me in the face with branches and wet leaves…

Today it all came crashing down. 

Damn!

I caught up with folks again just as they reached the road and we walked to the deli together. I just told them I was having a hard time, and went through the motions of picking up some light resupply. I ordered a chicken parm sub, a Mountain Dew, an ice coffee, and some chips. Then I realized they had gone to the pizza place next door to order food. I felt odd about bringing food from another store into the pizza joint, so sat outside, by myself. I couldn’t finish the sub, which is not good sign. I started to shiver, and began to think about getting off trail for the night. There were supposed to be evening showers leading into rain tomorrow. 

Tilly and Hops went on to do the 4 miles to the next shelter. 

With a little back and forth I got a cab to pick me up and take me to a motel.

So I have to figure out what to do next. First objective, rest and inspect and care for my feet. Second objective, make plans to change out some of my gear; just swapping hammock to tent saves me 6-ish lbs. Regardless of what the scale says (and whether it’s true), my pack is too heavy. When I hit any significant ascent, it’s pulling me back down, it’s unbalanced, and it amplifies the pressure on my feet.

And it’s very possible tomorrow will be a zero day.

They say, “Don’t quit on a bad day.” I’m not quitting.