Night 45: It’s A Small Trail After All
Friday, December 30th, 2011
Monday July 19, 2010
21 Miles, 1760.7 Miles to Springer, 418.4 Miles Hiked
I got up early to hike the one mile distance from the shelter where Bishop and I slept to the post office in Glencliff, NH. I wanted to make sure I was there right when the post office opened . The plan was I’d be waiting at the front door, walk in at opening, grab my package, take what I needed, throw out what I didn’t and be on my way.
I was a little slow going in the morning and didn’t get my things together quite when I had hoped. I ended up arriving at the post office about thirty minutes after it opened. It was the oddest post office I’d ever seen. The building was obviously at some point someones house. It may still have been someones house as the post office only occupied half of the building. I walked inside and asked if there were any packages for “Thru Hiker Justin Anderson,” the woman reached behind the counter and pulled out my package, asked for my ID and handed it over with a smile. I grabbed my package and thanked the post office woman and sat on the bench outside the post office enjoying the seat, and the warming of the early morning sun. My sister Caity had organized all the mail drops and the address on the box was from her house and there was a nice card on the inside letting me know everyone back home was thinking about me and rooting for me.
I sorted through the different snacks and gatorade packets Caity had sent, along with the spare pairs of underwear and socks, which I wouldn’t carry long term, but decided new underwear would be a nice treat until I got to Hanover and on the bus back home for my friends weddings and for a nice break from the trail and return to reality.
As I sat going through my care package another hiker walked up. He was a little taller than me, had black hair and a short black beard, and looked as though he’d been on the trail quite a while.
“Hey, are you thru-hiking?” He asked.
“Yeah, SOBO.” I said.
“Where are you from?” He asked.
“Virginia.” I said.
“Are you Caitlin Anderson’s little brother?” He asked.
“Yeah?” I said, momentarily taken a back before realizing who I was talking to.
“Are you Craig Torbett? I asked.
“Yeah, I’m Craig or Riverdog.” He said. Craig was one of my sister Caitlin’s friends from high school, he was a year younger than her. He was actually a senior at my high school when I was a freshmen, but I had no idea who he was back then, but my sister had told me when I started that she knew someone who was hiking the trail NOBO.
“Did you stay at the hostel down the street last night?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m actually walking back over there if you want to come hang out a little, there’s coffee, and soda, and pop tarts for 50 and 75 cents.
Craig led the way into the dilapidated looking hostel, The Hiker’s Welcome. The room we entered had a large freezer, a top bottom freezer fridge, a computer with dial up internet, and an entire wall of the room was covered in old VHS’s.
“This is Sonic,” Riverdog said, as he introduced me to a 6’7″ by my guess, shaggy haired blond man, wearing a Seattle Sonics jersey. “This kid went to high school with me, I played little league with his brother-in-law, and I was good friends with his sister.”
“Cool,” Sonic said.
“Yeah it’s crazy. If I hadn’t stopped here when I did we wouldn’t have run into each other.” I said.
“I know, crazy man. We should call your sister, I bet she’d get a kick out of this.” He said.
I tried calling Caity from the hostel’s land line because I didn’t have service, but she wasn’t answering. I called my mom to tell her to call Caity to tell her to answer the phone calls she was getting from this random number.
Caity finally answered. “No way, that’s crazy.” She said.
I gave the phone to Craig and let them talk. They talked for a while, mostly just laughing about what a coincidence this all was and then Craig handed the phone back to me and I said goodbye to Caity and kept talking with Craig and the other hikers.
“When you get to Vermont you need to stop in Milfchester.” Sonic said.
“What is Milfchester?” I asked.
“You want to tell him Riverdog, or should I?” Sonic asked.
“You can.” Riverdog said.
“Well when we were in Manchester, VT Riverdog saw this lady walking into the street and a car was coming and was going to hit her so he grabbed her, and dashingly pulled her out of harms way. She thanked him and we parted ways. Did I mention she had some big ol’ titties? Anyways, she had some big old titties. We were eating lunch later that day and saw the lady again. Riverdog remembered her name and said ‘hi’ to her. She was so excited that he remembered her name that she told us she wanted us to come out with her and her friend that night. Big old tithes on her friend too. They took us back to the Equinox, the ritzy hotel they were staying at, it had to cost like $600 a night. They took us to a club and we went dancing and they paid our tabs of like $150 dollars, and then they asked us to come bak to their hotel and get in the hot tub with them.” Sonic said.
“And then what?” I asked.
“It didn’t get any more exciting than that, we didn;t hook up with them or anything, just headed back to the hostel, but it was still an awesome night.” Riverdog said.
“Sounds like it. I was planning on stopping their anyway and staying at the Green Mountain House.” I said.
“Yeah, definitely stay there, you get a free tub of Ben & Jerry’s of your choice from his freezer and it’s stocked.” Riverdog said.
We exchanged phone number and I bought some sodas and pop tarts for the road.
My first climb was Mount Mist which should not have even been called a mountain after coming from the Whites. Mount Cube didn’t phase me either.
It was a relatively easy day until I got to South Jacob’s Brook and the storm clouds started gathering over head. Right as I finished filling up my water I heard the first rumble of thunder. I kept pushing on and picked up my pace. The clouds became so thick and dark that it was like the sun was setting and night was coming as I walked through the thick woods, and it was only about four in the afternoon.
The wind pick up and the trees around me began swaying and the branches were blowing side to side violently. Gusts started blowing through at what I would guess was 30 to 40 miles per hour.
I was scared as hell as the storms in the whites had made me terrified of any sort of weather. I knew I had to be within a mile based on the last land mark I had passed. I went to my go to move when scared and afraid with a storm looming overhead. I ran. I was running up hill almost the whole way toward the Fire Warden’s tower and cabin. As I ran it began to hail, chunks the size of my thumbnail, first lightly and then heavily and the wind began blowing them into my face.
My clothing was soaked and cold. Fear had overtaken everyone of my senses, I was having flashbacks to the storm I experienced on Franconia Ridge.
I had been running for so long and so fast that I missed the sign for the Fire Warden’s Cabin and Tower. I just saw it out of the corner of my eye and ran down the side trail towards it. I got inside to see Bishop, a guy named Scruggs, an overweight couple from Texas, and some German Guy who fit my imagined profile of the doctor in “Human Centipede.”
As I waited inside the cabin with the others I took off my wet clothing and began to hang it on the line on the porch of the cabin. The storm passed as I waited and I took a Philly’s hat that some previous hiker had abandoned, and I made my way to the Fire Warden’s Tower. I journaled and watched the sunset as I sipped on the Doctor Thunder I had purchased at the hostel where Riverdog was staying. After spending some time up there I decided I was going to spend the night in this six by six wooden box raised close to sixty feet in the air.
I called Sarah, but reception was in and out as it has been almost everywhere on the trail, so I conversation was cut short and was frustrating for both of us. As the final bit of the sun moved below the mountains I was struck by how beautiful a sunset can be, and how lucky I was to be where I was at this very moment. With the sun gone the moon shown bright outside and was slowly blocked as clouds rolled in. The further passed sunset it got the colder and windier it got in the fire tower which had sever broken windows allowing the wind to roar inside. I put my mat down and moved my pack on top of the latch door in the floor so that I would be sure to notice if someone was climbing up to murder me in my sleep. I slept on and off but not well as the roaring wind woke up throughout the night, but the experience was well worth the lack of sleep.
Rose – Running into Riverdog
Bud – Getting to Hanover tomorrow and eating at Quizno’s and being closer to getting home to see Sarah, my family, and have a break from the trail.
Thorn-Thunder and Hail storm
Category : Appalachian Trail
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You amaze me!!! Glad to see staying alive is on your wish list. mum
Ok, bud. i’m waiting on this story to end so i know if you make it home in one piece. of course, i could start posting my own version, huh?