Melville Nauheim Shelter [mile 1595; SOBO 576.6]
This has been a tough couple of weeks, mostly because of the cold. One day earlier in the week I was walking and cold and thought, ‘If I could pitch my tent and get inside and get in my sleeping bag and just be warm, I’d do it in a heartbeat.’ But it was a sad thought because I didn’t have that option. My quilt isn’t warm enough, my mat especially isn’t warm at all, and there’s nowhere to go to get warm. It’s just suck-it-up time until North Adams, probably Friday night. Tonight when I got the tent set up I actually felt a little twinge of dread; I used to love crawling under my quilt. Now I hate it because it means another cold, miserable night.
Hey, but last night I had a whole new issue! I woke up this morning and there was a freakish amount of condensation on the inside of my fly. There was so much condensation that it was dripping down from the tent poles. And it was like I had a single-walled tent, because my watermelon-seed mat had spat me against the inner walls, so they touched the outer walls, and the whole tent was like I’d had a rainstorm. Inside.
What caused that? It hasn’t happened with this tent ever, but I know some other people have been having Big Agnes (that’s the tent) condensation issues. But there was another guy tenting with me last night—he had a tarp, not a tent—and I asked him about it. He had exactly the same issue (minus the problem with the inner walls). So it wasn’t the tent. It was something about the freak arctic weather or where we were pitched.
I may have contributed, too, by wearing too many clothes last night. I was trying to be warm, and I went overboard and probably sweated, which made me feel cold. But does sweat make condensation? I don’t think so. But if I got hot, then the temperature inside would have been that much higher than the temp outside, right?
Anyway, despite all that, last night I froze my butt off again. Tonight should be a bit warmer. I’ll probably end up taking a precious zero in North Adams just to get good and warm and knock out any bug I may be harboring with all this cold stuff. Plus I want to make sure my winter mat hasn’t sprung a leak or anything. If it has, I’ll be stuck with whatever I can drum up at an outfitter, if there is one.
Anyhoo… the day! I was on the trail at 6:45 (cold!), and I walked all day (cold!), and I got to this shelter (cold!), and here I am (cold!). LOL.
The sunrise this morning was another fabulous crimson one, and this time I had a view. I tried to grab a picture but couldn’t get a good one; the best shot’s below, and it doesn’t nearly do justice to the thing itself.
There was a mountain: Glastenbury Mountain. I kept calling it Glastonbury Tor all day, lol. There was a firetower up top, but no fog and ice today. I don’t do firetowers because of my fear of heights, but hey, I was on Glastonbury Tor and it was a cold, beautiful morning, so I decided to give it a shot. Aaannnddd… no way. I got three flights up and the panic started to kick in, so I came back down. But hey, I made it up three! Two’s usually the breaking point. I’m not worried about it, to tell you the truth. It doesn’t affect my day-to-day life even a little bit. And if the blazes had gone over that firetower, well, I would have managed to climb it. Just ask Katahdin.
I’d heard yesterday that there was a moose hanging out on the south side of Glastenbury, a big male. I kept my eyes peeled and my ears open, but he never put in an appearance. He was probably too cold.
The trail was Vermont all over again, carpeted in brown crunchy leaves. The leaves are outpacing me, with this turning and falling.
And that’s about it. Tomorrow: last night in Vermont, I think!