Churchill Scott Shelter 1703.4 to Inn At Long Trail 1707.3 (3.9 miles, 681.9 total miles)
Lady Pants, Moped, and I all turned in around 10, and it began to pour buckets by 10:30, the rain echoing on the metal roof making for a very cozy feel inside the shelter.
I didn’t sleep great, I never really do in shelters, but I stayed dry and that made it worth it. My alarm went off at 8am, and I’d gotten a nice sleep in. The other two got up about an hour later.
We chatted and exchanged contact info while they made tea and ate breakfast. I started to eat my way through my food bag, wanting to both empty it and replenish my body. My body wanted food, and I kept having to empty my bladder repeatedly, as if I was trying to flush something out of my system.
Lady Pants and Moped wanted to get to the Inn At Long Trail to check in and have lunch there, so they headed out around 11. By then, the fog had cleared and the sun had just come out for the first time as they hiked away.
I wanted to have lunch at the shelter, to use up the food I had and avoid buying two meals at the inn. I’d head out mid afternoon, since it was only about 4 miles or so.
I lazed around, spreading out my stuff in the shelter after the other two left. I did some yoga, and saw two section hikers walk up while I was in downward dog. I recognized one from the other day at Clarendon Shelter.
We talked for half an hour while they took a little break, about to end their section with lunch at the inn. They gave me a couple pieces of Japanese candy, and I told them all about my thru hike.
After they moved on, I did some reading of the Appalachian Trials ebook on my Kindle app, texted with my friends, and listened to music. I swept out the shelter and found a porcupine quill sitting on the floor.
I saw a day hiker walk up to the shelter for a snack around 12:30. His name was Will, and he lived in Texas and was visiting for a wedding. He’d actually be flying out of Bradley, the small airport that I had flown to the trail from, which was 20 minutes from my house.
Will was cool to talk to, and had many questions about the trail as well. He gave me half a granny smith apple and a package of Biscoff cookies from American Airlines. I had eaten all morning, and felt my body loving the calories.
At 1:00 I decided to eat lunch and hit the trail around 2. It had been a truly wonderful and relaxing morning, and my spirits were in much better shape than they had been before.
Now that I had removed the pressure on myself to catch up, I felt like I could breathe and enjoy my hike again. I was still exhausted, but psyched for a little vacation to rest and recover. I wanted to savor these often considered best parts of the trail ahead.
I packed up as a made a lunch of couscous mixed with a chicken packet and a tuna packet, that I ate on tortillas. I hiked out just before 2:00, and finished listening to the Prisoner of Azkaban audiobook as I hiked.
I had dreamt of Frankie the night before, and when I got to a certain part in the book I had to stop hiking and wipe tears from my eyes.
“You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don’t recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him.”
It was a beautiful and breezy day, with blue skies and low 70s for temp. The sun had absorbed all the rain from the night before, so the trail and foliage was dry, and the humidity was nonexistent. I couldn’t have asked for better weather.
I saw two weekend hikers with a poodle and chatted with them for a minute, then crossed the busy road 2 miles in. It was the same road the inn is on, and I briefly considered hitching or taking the bus there, but wanted to hike instead.
I put on some tunes and made my way up the ridge. I saw Maine Junction, where the Long Trail and the Appalachian Trails split from each other. I passed a day hiker from the inn and showed her the Far Out app and where the trail back to the inn was.
I found the side trail and did the .5 blue blaze to the inn, which looked hopping for the holiday weekend. I hung up my pack on the convenient hooks outside and headed in. I saw the inn was full, which was fine, and I also saw the grassy tent area across the road where I’d set up.
The Irish pub only had a couple other people sitting at the bar when I arrived. I ordered an 802 cider and chatted with a guy who arrived at the same time as me, Joel, about the AT and travel.
Moped and Lady Pants arrived in the pub, and I realized I was sitting near the ridge runner, Shaun, that I had seen at Clarendon Shelter the other day.
He said he had done a thru hike attempt of the AT in 2015, and had succeeded in 2016, so we must have been around each other at least in 2016 when I was traveling the trail by car. He had hiked the PCT in 2018 and was attempting the CDT this year when the fires had gotten him off trail and he accepted the ridge running job.
I ordered and had some spuds with corned beef and cheddar, and contemplated setting up my tent while I finished my cider. I sat and talked with Shaun and his friend about the trail for quite a while. Once his friend left, Lady Pants and Moped joined Shaun and I, and we hung out at the bar till 8:00.
Shaun decided to tent over by me, and we crossed the road to the grassy area. Baked Potato was going to stay in his car in the parking area right there, so he hung out with us while we set up our tents.
We all turned in around 10pm, and I put on some music to drown out the sound of the road, and my hat over my eyes because of the light coming from the inn. I was in full vacation mode, and very excited to go to Amherst and have a few days off from hiking for my body to recover and have fun with my friends. It had been a very quality day.