"We've been through every kind of rain there is. Little bitty stingin' rain. And big ol' fat rain. Rain that flew in sideways. And sometimes rain even seem to come straight up from underneath."
-Forest Gump
Start: West Cornwall Road
Finish: Falls Village, CT
Today: 9.6 mi
Total: 301.6 mi
We were on the trail and into the rain at 9:30 AM. As always, we started the day with a steep climb. All around me the forest was full of vivid colors. I climbed up through the mist on soft dirt, over wet rocks and through lush, green vegetation.
The threat of severe thunderstorms with the chance of hail and tornadoes had us moving at a quick pace. We planed on doing just 10 miles today before the worst of the storms and staying in a hotel tonight. Along the climb I made my way through the "Boulder squeeze" and continued upwards. While waiting for Flicka and No Whistle to catch up I stood perched on a ledge like a stone skyscraper gargoyle, looking out at the horizon. The clouds hung low under the peaks of the mountaintops like seas surrounding smooth green islands. A couple hours later the warmth of the early afternoon burned off the clouds, revealing blue skies above.
I hiked alone for the majority of the day while No Whistle did my duty of walking and talking with Flicka. I owe her one! =) While waiting for them at a road crossing, the mosquitoes were out in full force. As I sat there a pile of unfortunate mosquitoes accumulated on my shirt and splattered on my limbs. I guess the bugs of Mosquito-chusetts know no political borders because we're still in Connecticut!
We arrived at Falls Village for lunch and I ran to the post office to get a package. A nice lady working there gave me a cold soda because she knew I was hiking the trail. The package contained toe socks, hopefully the answer to Flicka's blister problems! After an awesome lunch on a quiet restaurant patio, I tried to call a taxi. Our waitress, just ending her shift, offered to drive us the 15 minutes to our hotel to save us money. Incredible! The people we've met in Connecticut have been the nicest, most generous people on the trail so far.
As I sit here writing this the skies are turning shades of dark gray. Deep rumbles of thunder can be heard in the distance. Big storms are coming!
-Daddy Long Legs
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