Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Day 18: Ringle, Connecting Route
After that nice start, I was faced with a roughly 30-mile connecting route. I planned to do about 25 miles of it. Connecting routes are so hard on your feet. I was lucky in that I was able to walk on relatively soft, gravel shoulders for much of the way, which is not always possible. Highway I was newly paved, so both the shoulder and the road felt cushy. Got a lot of running in in both Ringle and the connecting route. Unfortunately, the last 6 or so miles on County A were awful. It was one of those roads where they spread blacktop or tar and dump stones on top. Those last few miles beat up my feet terribly. :( Oh well, that's part of doing a thru-hike.
Since I was on relatively main roads all day, no dog issues; people keep their dogs constrained so they don't get hit by cars, I imagine. At the end of the day, though, the one dog that didn't like me passing his property was, of all breeds, a Bassett hound. He waddled as quickly as he could on his stubby little legs right into the busy road and kept baying at me. I wasn't worried, though. Even after a 30-mile day, I figured I could outrun him.
The story of my lost sunglasses
So I have a favorite pair of running sunglasses that I brought along. I was wearing them this morning, then couldn't find them after a few hours. I frantically searched my Camelbak, pockets, etc., to no avail. I figured they must have slipped off the top of my head, where I prop them sometimes, when I was checking out this sign in Hatley and futzing around with my pack, my vest, etc. That makes the third thing I've lost so far: a pack of my energy jellies, a map and now my sunglasses.
A few hours later, I was trying to read an interesting sign across the road, but it was a bit blurry. So I ... took my sunglasses off my face to see it better. And that, folks, is how I amuse myself on the trail. (That is not old age, by the way, it's trail fatigue.)
If that wasn't funny enough, near the end of the day I tried to call Patricia to arrange my pick-up. No cell service. Horrors! Would I have to walk all night? I took off my sunglasses (it was cloudy now anyway) and hooked them on my Camelbak strap, even though I know that's not wise. I wanted to try and find someone and ask to use their cell phone, and I wanted people to see the sweet face of a middle-aged lady. Lucky me, another older woman was out walking (on that horrible road), and had a cell phone on her. She let me call Patricia and we arranged the pick-up.
So Patricia opens the car door. I'm pooped, so I quickly whip off my Camelbak and climb in. We've driven a few miles when I remember my sunglasses were on my Camelbak strap. If I just take off my pack without grabbing the glasses, they slide off. I start pawing through everything in the van to see if I'd thought to place them inside, but no luck. So we turn around and go back to where I ended. But there are no sunglasses on the ground. I check the car once again, and they'd slid under my car seat. Oops. Those naughty sunglasses!