I am really struggling to get my legs under me right now. I think I over did it with the past few days and the twenty a couple days ago. Today I did seven and yesterday I did three. I love these shelters though. This one sleeps about twenty people with a loft and six bunks. The one yesterday had a wood stove that I let burn the entire night.
The Vermont mud seems to be getting worse and is driving me insane. That could possibly be the problem with getting my legs moving. I can’t achieve any sort of rythm with the mud. And to extend the extra effort of pulling my feet and poles from the suction of the mud may be draining me.
The constant rain kills any sort of inspiration I have to hike. I guess it is the reason I and this beautiful world are here so maybe I should appreciate it more. I just wish it could sprout from the ground like plumbing rather than falling onto me. Maybe in heaven, right?
Something is not right. I am struggling every mile of hiking. Despite some amazing waterfalls on my hike today and making good progress I feel sick and sluggish. I am taking vitamins but something must be missing from my diet or maybe I am coming down with something I got while in Hanover. I think it also might be my second round of weight loss. I lost a few pounds in the 100 mile wilderness back in Maine and managed to gain some of it back. Now it must be dissipating from my increased metabolism to cope with the cold.
I could not make it to the shelter so I am tented out off the trail in a massive mud pit.
I took a day off in the woods today, staring up at the ceiling of my tent. The tube supplied me with little entertainment basically consisting of a large bug entrapped between the mesh walls of my tent and the rain fly trying to discover a path of escape.
I ate the entire day so hopefully some of my energy will be renewed in the morning. The rain has been contributing to the depth of mud beneath me and while the sleeping is comfy on a bed of mud, the thought of taking down my tent tomorrow makes me cringe.