Day 3: No Dry Bones Here

Now, before this day we had been doing ok. This day would test our mettle and determination to the core. This would be hiking at its worst. We woke up, had some coffee/hot chocolate, suited up and headed on our way. I think we left at around 8:30 or 9:00 in the morning and by 11:00 we were starving. Today would be soups of various flavors, so we decided to stop just before hitting a marshy section of the trail where a boardwalk had been built to help protect the trail. While we were beginning to make our various soups this old man with a worn walking stick passed us again. He stopped to talk to us for awhile about our hike so far. Flash back: First day on the trail. Old man with worn walking stick passes us on trail and wishes us a good hike. He's old and has no pack, odd... So now we're thinking this guy is stalking us, or at least the crazed survivalist that had escaped earlier that month and was rumored to be near the part of the Trail that we were hiking. Just as we were getting all our gear back on and ready for the rest of the day's hike, it began to sprinkle. We had been anticipating some precipitation any time as it had begun to get cloudy and slightly windier all morning. So we helped each other get poncho's on, pack rain-fly's (if you had one, which I did), and any other wet weather gear we could find. I decided to brave it and wear only my pack (with rainfly on) and my usual T-shirt, BDU pants, and a tiger-stripe, camoflaged bandanna on my head. By the time we got moving again it was a pretty steady rain which seemed to be turning into a downpour. We walked for about 20 minutes before the rain let up and was lightly sprinkling. But we had another challenge to conquer, an approximate 30 degree uphill climb for an entire mile! God shone down his beauty at that moment by opening up the heavens just as we began our climb. As we began our ascent, the forest around us became misty from the continous downpour and the 90 degree temperature that afternoon. Our ascent took us up a straight path with drop-offs on either side of the narrow trail of about 45 degrees for most of the ascent. We were right on top of the ridge of the mountains, but due to the immense downpour, we could only see about 50 feet in any direction, and therefore were unable to see anything to the right or left of the trail looking down from the mountain. After about an hour of hiking since our lunch, the trail had become a convenient little mountain runoff stream. My boots and socks sloshed with each step from all of the water. My feet were actually sort of hot though because all of the water stuck in my boots was kept warm from my body heat in addition to wearing the most excellent pair of socks I have ever worn. I wore a pair of trekking SmartWool socks, which I must endorse whole heartedly as the sock of choice for hiking. Not only do they feel comfortable when dry, they feel comfortable (relatively speaking) when wet. I was one of the very few of our group that did not get blisters because of that one pair of socks (I wore the same pair every day). Also, my entire body, and every article of clothing on me was saturated with sweat and rain, making for a rather unpleasant hike. Nobody talked much as it was hard to hear each other over the rain. But in a curious way, I think the constant pounding of the rain made for a more steady hiking rhythm. By the time we reached the Nick Grandstaff Monument at the top of the ascent, we were all exhausted. Two hours of continous uphill can do that to you. We firmly decided then, that no matter what, we were making camp at the Iron Mountain Shelter about 1 1/2 miles further down the Trail. We needed somewhere to dry out and the shelter would offer the best solution to the problem. We pressed on, hoping each new hill we conquered would reveal the promised land of the shelter. Of course, hiking is sort of like watching a pot of water begin to boil; it never happens. Finally we reached the shelter, when who should we find, Spyder. He kindly offered for us to stay at the shelter with him as there was plenty of room for tents outside the shelter, as well as sleeping bags in the shelter. Spyder had made it to the shelter much earlier in the day, and had been spared much of the drenching rains that we had hiked through. We began to strip off the wet slop that we called clothes and changed into dryer clothing that had been kept bone dry inside our packs (YEAH RIGHT!). My clothes weren't wet, but a few people had some slightly moist changes of clothes. Matt and Aaron A. decided they would sleep in their tents, but the rest of us decided to take refuge in the shelter with Spyder. After hanging out EVERYTHING to dry in the 120% humidty of the still sweltering heat of the evening, we began to unpack our food to cook dinner. A few people hiked several hundred yards down to the closest water stream and retrieved our water supply for the night. We were all glad when they returned because now we could make some Tang. Now, our supply of Tang was an interesting thing. We had started with about 8 jars of the powdery substance and were now down to ONLY 6 zip lock bags of it, two of which were only half full. Upon pulling one bag of tang out of a backpack Spyder began laughing hysterically. What was so funny? He told us how crazy we were for carrying so much weight from that bag of Tang. Then we produced the other 5 bags from various backpacks. Spyder was nearly crying for laughing so hard at us. And not with us, AT us. Of course, by this point our unending stupidity didn't surprise us, so we all joined in the fun and cracked on each other, especially those who bought all that Tang in the first place. We did eventually get around to making ourselves some 'danger' Tang though. 'Danger' Tang is basically equal parts water and Tang, . . . it tastes like orange soup. And the added bonus was that it got rid of all that powdered sugar weight that we were carrying around. We began playing card games in the shelter with Spyder later that evening. Well, everyone except for Matt and Aaron. Matt was still trying to get his tent set up across from Aaron who was still involved with his struggle to construct his bivy. He was the boy in a bivy, BOY! After sharing many funny moments playing cards with Spyder we decided it was time to hit the proverbial hay. We said goodnight to one another, climbed in our sleeping bags, and proceeded to sweat the muggy night away. Not long after we quieted down, someone farted. This led to a series of silly jokes and more bodily noises. Eventually we were once again quite and trying to go to sleep. But now Matt and Aaron were debating the finer points of the book of James in the Bible. We didn't know what they were talking about exactly, but they wouldn't shut up. So one of us yelled at them to shutup. That didn't work after several attempts, so Spyder picked up a rock and hurled it at the bivy. He missed, but we all laughed as we began a new series of jokes and cruel comments at Aaron and Matt's expense. As we began to once again drift off to sleep, something moved in the rafters of the shelter. Spyder pulled out a flashlight and shone it overhead to reveal a mouse scurrying away from the light. Great, now we would be knawed to death in our sleep by dirty wild mice! But then a bat flew from one end of this 15 foot shelter to the other end, and we knew that we would just be bitten once in the neck, and then die. Actually, we enjoyed a pretty good nights sleep, considering the conditions, in that shelter.