Great, I lost twenty five pounds...and my pack gets fatter.

Bears Den, Blueridge Mountain Road, Bluemont, VA

Although I do not frequent the Appalachian Trail because it is not the nature of this journey, so many people mentioned this castle in the woods, I had to check it out. Plus I have been seriously sick in my tent for a couple days. Did I mention I smell slightly...alright, bad will cover it.
Always I am eating. It is the nature of the walk. Still I managed to misplace twenty five valuable pounds. Somewhere I ate some bad sliced meat(it's the only food that when thought of I have to run for the forest). For two days into nights,then back again, I shook like a madman. My head filled with sick dreams that took me nowhere--over and over, and over. Water ran out after a day. I lost that much water after one jog to dig in the leaves. Dehydration quickly found camp, then sat on my chest. By day three I could add mindlessly dizzy to my list of tricks. Everything I owned was crammed into the sleeping bag rated for thirty below. I still froze. Guess the rating is good only if you have a pulse. I prayed. I think I prayed. It seemed like a prayer. After a couple of days inhaling sick man in a small tent smells I figured I'd rather die wobbling in front of a truck then rot away, fermenting in a delux dowm filled zip-lock bag.
Not eating saves alot of money. Down side is I stop on hills that I never would have noticed a couple of days ago. I walk six miles, smile, declaring in a very serious question, "I think that's enough...How's that...That's a great place for a tent...Look, water!" I roll my eyes at myself. Six miles?
Bears Den? Showers? Warmth without an intro of shivering melodies? The mountain up to here is steep. If your just joining the two-legged(and the living), it is hell. Crazy me even thought of hobbling past on route 7 west to grab route 11 south. That would have been worse. Outside the wind is polishing stone with stone. I would have walked a few more miles, forgiving my ailed ways, then begged a tree to hold all its branches till morning. Trees really don't remember long like people say they do. I know. Then again, by three in the morning I am sure that they get kind of bored. Remembering the little man they have tucked in down below, they get ...creative. "Surely, one little old branch wouldn't hurt. " I won't be alone anyhow......crack!