Miles: 4.8 (plus .9 to trail)
Left the hotel today, anxious, as always, about leaving the luxuries of town. It's off to another stint of bad food, aching bones and stinky body for me. But I'm having a wonderful time, right? :)
We got a hitch to the Flume Visitor Center from an interesting character - he had polio and lost most of the use of his legs. However, after a career in consulting, he's now a ski instructor. Super nice guy, and, hey, he gave us a ride, so that makes him very cool in my books.
It's been raining for the past couple of days and it's forecasted to keep raining for the next week. Yuck. So, I wasn't surprised that we started hiking in the rain.
Everything was going well until we reached a stream crossing. No bridge and it couldn't be rock-hopped across. Great. So, we slipped out of our boots and into camp shoes to wade across. The water was moving quickly, making it difficult; however, after a slow start, we made it to the other side. As we were changing into our boots again, we realized that that was the most difficult crossing we've had to do. I was surprised that there wasn't a bridge across it, but I suppose that the people going up to Lonesome Lake Hut take an easier route.
After another mile or so, we reached another crossing that was worse than the one we just finished. Shit! There was a way across marked with yellow tape on the trees on either bank. After several minutes of contemplating the best route, I chose that one. Big mistake. It was an easy enough start on a couple of boulders, but I had to step into the full force of the rain-swollen rapids for about 4 feet. The water only came up to my mid-thigh, but the crushing force splashed waves up to my waist and threatened to topple me over. At one point, with both poles sturdily planted between rocks and with my feet on solid ground in the middle of the stream, I was unsure that I could remain standing. The force of the water was just enormous. I tried to turn around, but couldn't because if my body was facing the oncoming water, I was sure to fall and bang my head several times down the rocky river. After several insanely slow steps, a prayer and an "I can do this" speech to myself, I got out of the rapids, into the slow flowing area and onto the shore. Phew!! Now it was Kevin's turn.
The way I had gone wasn't the best (so I found out). Kevin tried at different points, almost falling over several times, soaking his boots that were hanging over his neck and terrifying me. Several dayhikers came up and tried to cross where I had, but they didn't have poles. The guy that tried it got a quarter of the way across, was almost knocked down and retreated. They then, with Kevin, scouted further upstream and found a spot that was a bit easier to cross. The river was still going full force, but there were less eddies to get pulled into. Everybody safely arrived to the other side, but nobody came out dry. I was just happy that nobody fell, because it was a perfect recipe for drowning - swollen river, strong current, lots of boulders, numerous waterfalls, eddies to suck you in. Lovely.
After that jolt, we hiked up to the hut on a nonexistent Trail. It had been replaced by streams and mudholes the entire way. We finally made it and warmed up with some oh-so-welcome cocoa and coffee. One of the crew members asked which way we'd come in. After we told her about having to cross the river, she told us that they had been told of the conditions and were warning all hikers going down the Trail to take an alternate route. That would have been good advice for us :) After a long break, we continued walking in the white-blazed stream and climbing up slick boulders to the first shelter we were to pass that day. We were originally aiming for the next shelter, 4 miles down the Trail, to meet up with Sunshine and Medicine Man again, but had heard it was full. Also, the dry shelter we were at was an awfully appealing place to stay while it continued to rain. So, we stayed here and aired out our boots.
The caretaker came up and we chatted with him for a while. I could tell he had a good sense of humor - when he first came up and we asked if he was the caretaker, he said, "Nope... I gotta group of 15 boyscouts that'll be sharing this shelter with you." Our hearts sagged, only to realize a second later that he was joking. After a good conversation, he told us we could do work for stay (2 are allowed per night at the AMC shelters), but there were no chores to be done. Sweet. So, it's free for us. And I'm dry, which makes me even happier.
- Glad to be alive Bobo