Day 57

RPH Shelter to Ten Mile River Shelter – 29.6 miles – Missed Opportunity

I am out at 5:30 AM. I am bummed how today turns out. The terrain is great for a huge day: 38 miles (to Mt. Algo Shelter just before town of Kent, CT). The rain holds off, but it must have rained a ton overnight. The trail is really muddy and in some spots it nearly sucks my shoes off.  

I feel good to start, but that’s about it. I stop about 9 AM to eat the salmon packet on a tortilla. I don’t know if the problem is the fish or something else, but I do not feel well afterward. My stomach hurts and it’s in a knot for several hours. I stop a while later because I think I have some Pepto-Bismol, but I don’t. 

I am anxious and thinking a lot about my mail drop in Kent tomorrow, as well as my resupply Tuesday or Wednesday. I’m wondering if and hoping that they will get delivered in time and if not, do I wait for them or just buy food at the store and move on. This is really “stressing” me out and consumes my thoughts, which is fine because I have all day to toss around scenarios and solutions! I talk to Linds several times this morning and we get it squared away. She is awesome. She has a million things to do and tend to, while I’m obsessing over one.

My stomach finally starts feeling better about 2 PM, then even better at 4. But it’s too late to save the day and try to get the remaining miles to the shelter outside Kent that I was shooting for. 

I enter Connecticut this afternoon! I really wanted to get more miles, but I stop at this shelter. Only Roger, a middle-aged hiker from Brazil is here. He’s section hiking, what I call Bill Bryson-style, driving a rental car from shelter to shelter. What little English he does say to me, I hardly understand, so we don’t talk much.

As I normally do, I set my shoes and socks at the foot of my sleeping bag at the opening of the shelter in an attempt to dry them (a little) overnight. In broken English and hand gestures he communicates to me that they stink and to move them. Ah, sure. So I move them a few feet. 

A ridge runner shows up about 8 PM, but I’m already in my bag sleeping, basically asleep. I’m walking into Kent tomorrow to resupply, either via mail drop (hopefully) or grocery store.

Huge tree, but not the biggest. 


The Dover Oak, largest oak tree along the trail. The giant is 300 years and over 20 feet around. 

The hills are alive with the sound of music. 

New York boardwalk through wetlands. 
Georgia chair. No time for sitting. 

Maine chair. Still no time for resting. 

Wooden water tower
Drive like that…

It’s beautiful out here. 

Tempting, but no. 
53.7 miles in CT

Connecticut! Moving right along; nine down, five to go. 

About 400 miles on these Brooks Cascadia treads. The couple days of sharp PA rocks did the most damage. I have about 250 miles to go before a new pair. 

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