A bluet-strewn grassy hillside meets a pond sparkling in sunshine. Springtime at Herron Pond, White Memorial Foundation, Morris, Connecticut. May 17, 2024, 12:05 PM.
🧵 1/5
May 8, 1983, 41 years ago today: There is nothing like trying to pack up everything you own in a downpour. My sleeping bag was soaked, my tent was hopeless; everything was drenched. Adding insult to injury, the rain came to a dead stop about five minutes after I had finished packing.
2/5
I am writing this entry at Addis Gap Shelter, seven-and-a-half miles further up the Appalachian Trail, where I have stopped for lunch. My backpack must be ten pounds heavier than yesterday just from all the water which has soaked into my belongings. My backpack must be ten pounds heavier than yesterday just from all the water which has soaked into my belongings. I feel a desperate need to keep driving myself now. My boots feel like sandpaper against that deep wound.
🧵 1/3
May 3, 1983, 41 years ago today: At a spot called Three Forks, four miles from Springer Mountain, the Appalachian Trail crossed a fire road beside the convergence of three streams which had become raging torrents. A blinding mass of rain was creating a surreal, semi-aquatic woodland.