A readjustment now and then

What a crazy time of reajustment! The change is incredible from 2 months ago. In June, the weather was barely warm and the bugs nearly inexistent. The past week has made me endure the weather and all it's surprises like I never could have expected. The sun and humidity brought by the hurricane Bill drenched me in sweat as though the rain cloud was over my head. My shoes were flooded and I had to be careful with heat exhaustion, dehydration and my water intake. The humidity wrung every bit of moisture from my body, I was boderline cramping, stiffening up and buckling at the knees. I am not built for the hot weather...did you know I was born in a snow storm on a blustery January day in Montreal?

Worst are the Mosquitos I have encountered since entering Massachusetts; nothing more than Massquitos so far. They riddle me with their bumps and turn my arms, legs and back into the Braille writings of their fiendish hunger and violent itch. South bound (SoBo) hikers read upon my bumpy flesh the toils of stopping to get water or tying a shoes while pricks pierce my t-shirt and relentless attacks break me. I run through sections in the hopes of warding off some of the pesky insects, douce myself with repellent or wish for the oncoming thunderstorm to pour down more rain drops than they can avoid. None work when the breeding grounds of marsh land and flooded corn fields are straddled between the AT and me. Massquitos still bite in the pouring rain. 

But not all is lost in the constant scratch and sniff of the wilderness. I have found the stories of past friends in the registers at the shelters. Most are coming very close to finishing their adventure hike, some have climbed Katahdin already but all have left a piece of their story for me to find. I learned more about a good man named Moses from an entry he wrote on June 14 about the death of his father, his atheist outlook, the solitude he searched and many subtile things he did not share during our many days of hiking. Among the serious is also the playful daily writings and glimpses of my fellow companions' journey which I imagine from the few lines they scribble on the page before stomping off.

I am now in Dalton Massachusetts where a man named Tom Levardi has opened his home to hikers and all their smelly needs. His house is packed, we sleep on the floors where the couches have been filled and yet he does not ask nor accept anything for his graciousness. Tomorrow he will bring a few of us 30 miles north where we can slack pack south back to his house (leave the packs at the house in order to hike faster and further). It should be a great day to hike, especially 35lbs lighter. Also, Mosquitos are behaving and the cool nights craddle me to sleep.