#185 Upper Goose Pond Shelter to October Mtn Shelter - Day 110: MM1551.5 - MM1560.3
A mirror that lies, a mirror that lies, that couldn't be me in that gorilla disguise - Jimmy Buffett, This Hotel Room, 1976
5-6-2023
After breaking camp, I explore the lake side and the cabin. It was nearly dark when I got to camp last night so I wasn’t able to appreciate them then.
The mom offered last night to give me a ride this morning into the town of Lee, Massichusits, about five miles down the mountain. She and her son are going that way and are also planning to stop at a grocery store.
They leave camp before I do but I catch up to them before reaching the trailhead. We cross over the I-90 footbridge together towards the parking area, then drive into Lee on the two-lane MA-20.
In the parking lot of The Big Y World Class (lä dēˈdä) Market, I grab my gear from the rear of the small SUV, then thank my chauffeur and her sidekick for the ride, bidding them adieu as we part ways in the parking lot.
I ask at the counter if I can charge my electronics while I shop. This little tactic I began using a few weeks ago when entering stores for resupply. It’s very efficient - by multitasking I get the most charge in for what little time I have to spare in towns.
Unlike my last resupply stop where I sat on the cooler I borrowed from a display pile and snagged a discarded egg box to use for a table, this store has a whole dining area with several tables.
I spread my new food and supplies out on a real table, where I can sit like a person and not the hobo that I’m becoming - furniture is a luxury in the backpacker’s world.
I devour the feast I bought for lunch before organizing and packing my trail food into my trail food bag.
A mirror that lies. A mirror that lies.
That couldn't be me in that gorilla disguise
- Jimmy Buffett - This Hotel Room, 1976
While washing my hands in the restroom I look up to see an unfamiliar creature…and the creature is me.
I pause. This is the first time I’ve really looked at myself in a while. My face is covered with a thick gray beard and my body has thinned significantly.
Today is day thirty-six on the trail, and day thirty-seven on the beard.
The mirror suggests I’ve lost about twenty-five pounds within that time. (I will lose ten more before this hike is through)
Though I’m losing a lot of upper-body muscle mass, my body continues growing stronger.
I’m finding my trail legs. Those muscles are recovering more fully each night from each day’s pounding, and they are operating at maximum strength.
I feel strong from head to toe, moving through the forest faster, lighter, with animal-like agility.
One vehicle after another buzzes by as I stand on the busy corner across the road of the Grocery store and the road that leads back to the trailhead.
After wasting enough time standing still, I hedge my bet that walking up the road will produce results.
About two miles up the long road I still haven’t secured a hitch. One car after other zips by at forty-five miles per hour.
Pedestrian rules: For safety’s sake, walkers are to walk against the traffic. The problem with this is that drivers on my side of the road are going in the opposite direction of where I’m trying to go.
My gut tells me to cross the road and walk with traffic, against the safety rules.
Within a minute of doing so I pass a man working in his yard. I recognize him from The Big Y World Class (lä dēˈdä) Markets café. He was eating with friends, most likely meeting for an early lunch. They all were wearing worn jeans and flannel shirts, probably farmers, definitely hard-working men.
He looks up at me between tosses of metal rods into the bed of his truck.
He waves and says, “Hi.”
I open with, “I think I saw you earlier at the Big Y.”
“Yes, some friends and I met for lunch,” he replies
We begin talking and he offers a ride to the trail, three miles farther up the mountain. He’s going to drive past the trailhead on his way to his farm in Becket as soon as he’s finished loading the truck.
I offer to help him load the rest of the metal into the bed of his truck, but he’s nearly finished. He says I can sit on the log in the shade and relax.
He drops me off at the trailhead and wishes me a happy hike. I’m not the first hiker he’s helped. He pulls back onto the road towards his farm on the other side of the mountain.
