#170 Camp Mohican Road to Gren Anderson Shelter - DAY 95: MM1306.9 - MM1327.6
Life is full of small and wonderful surprises.
4-21-2023
Last night was the most restful night sleep on trail so far this year thanks to the soft ground, soothing sounds of a stream, and an increasingly restful mind.
A school bus drops a load of college-aged kids near my camp oasis in the pre-dawn hours, thus ending my restful sleep. I never see them but hear every word the group utters. An energetic bunch, they seem excited to be here. Their voices fade as they head up the trail on the other side of the gravel road.
The coast is clear. Alone again.
Climbing out of the tent, I pause for a moment to absorb the magnificent day.
My camp stove sits on a boulder warming water for breakfast while I filter water for today’s hike.
I climb up onto the boulder with my seating pad, feet resting on a smaller boulder, and take my time, enjoying breakfast.
Sleeping pads are the perfect place to lay out ready-to-pack gear while breaking down the tent, which goes on bottom of the pack. Packing is all about proper weight distribution. If it’s off balance, it can make the pack uncomfortable, and also make you off-balance, which could lead to accidents.
Despite the NO TRASPASSING warning I’m tempted to climb up Catfish Fire Tower. Noticing the tower door is locked I think, “What’s the point if I can’t go all the way?” and keep my feet on the ground and my butt on a picnic table, enjoying the morning sun.
The sun is high. The heat is rising. My clothes are soaked. My gear is spread out on a massive boulder airing out in the sun while I sit barefoot and shirtless, snacking from my food bag and jotting down a few thoughts in my notebook.
A hiker walks out of the woods onto the boulder and sits down. Sharing my cookies, I ask his name.
“Storm.”
“That’s a cool trail name,” I tell him.
“Storm is my real name. My trail name is Johnny, but with an “i” (Johnni)”.
“How about yours?” he asks.
“Sprawl,” I respond, pointing at my gear spilled out behind us., “This is how you get a name like mine.”
Johnni routinely hikes twenty-eight to thirty-four miles daily - an elite level hiker.
I ask if he’d met Woobie, the elite hiker that shared the 501 Shelter with Faze and I a couple of weeks ago.
“Yea, I met him briefly,” he says. “Woobie gave me the name Johnni. He said with a real name like Storm, a regular name is called for on the trail.”
Sprocket hikes past the two of us. Johnni and I leave the boulder together catching up with Sprocket on the next overlook. We three stand and talk a while. Johnni soon moves on, never to be seen by either of us again. Sprocket and I will run into one another for the next several days, engaging in deep but effortless conversation, forming a friendship.