Sometimes I never know how much (or what) I am going to write. Starting into this report I was sure that I had writer’s block, but per usual, once I started writing the words just flowed from my ever-verbose fingers. I guess I have to make up for all of the other times that I am quiet in the presence of others.
Well, I haven’t looked at the maps. I’m not really sure what the official mileage was (and I don’t believe I want to know). I think I glanced at it once or twice while on the trip. Daniel is a great navigator, so I just enjoyed the hike on autopilot while he did most of the heavy lifting.
The weekend started out in the most glorious fashion. After work I sped down Hwy 25 to Richmond where I connected with Hwy 421 to McKee. On my way I stopped for a brief photo shoot on the one-lane bridge slightly east (and below) Clays Ferry Bridge on I-75. In Richmond I stopped at Kroger to get TP, ice, bottled water, and a six-pack of Cougar Bait. After passing through Kingston, I headed down through Big Hill- probably the most awesome road cut into a knob- ever (if there is such a thing). After Big Hill I briefly descended into the tiny hamlet of Climax- home of Climax cave. In the past I have spent many days exploring its myriad of tunnels and water-cut passageways.
Friday night camp in the valley was awesome. The moon was visible 92% as a waxing gibbous. It was almost as bright as daylight. I decided to sleep without a rainfly so I could watch it move across the night sky.
Saturday, Daniel and I killed it. Starting out from Wildcat, we pretty much maintained a solid lead throughout the day. Sometime before noon we crossed the halfway point of the entire Sheltowee Trace. At that juncture we had walked approximately 160 miles on the Sheltowee year-to-date. We signed our names on the post and traveled down a two-lane highway. A large black pit-bull, tethered with a heavy gauge steel chain, bounced from his mooring, barring his teeth and growling. If given the chance, I’m sure he would have “eaten us up.”
After crossing a large steel bridge, we turned right to walk a small paved one-lane country road through tobacco fields in the lush valley bottoms. In a large circuitous curve, we could see nearly one-half mile behind us.
At the end of the road, we entered “ATV-Hell.” The paved surface turned to worn gravel road, with large fist-sized rocks, that twisted under our feet and tried to break our ankles. At a large creek crossing (nearly knee-deep) a dude in his UTV tried to climb an embankment. His tires spewed mud, almost showering Daniel on the far-bank. Almost every 300 feet we encountered ATV travelers. Of course they were curious. Each would stop to ask us where we were coming from, where we were going; sometimes they would ask us if we wanted a ride. For the most part they seemed like friendly folks.
We stopped at the creek for a while and bathed our sore feet in the muddy water.
Steve told us he would be expecting the earliest arrivals to camp at about 4:30pm. Daniel and I strolled into camp about 4:45. With much relief I stumbled over to the waiting cooler and pulled out my victory Ale-8. I collapsed for a few minutes, drank my soft drink, and ate the rest of the beef jerky I had been carrying. Daniel surprised me when he pulled out the map and announced that we had just hiked over 20 miles. I just laughed because I really had no idea up until that point.
Camp Saturday night was amazing. There were plenty of good sites to hang our hammocks. It became a tiny tent city in the woods. Nearby was Raccoon Falls; a large, exposed swath of granite with a trickling waterfall over the side. It felt like heaven. Everyone came down to eat their pre-packaged meals.
Mealtime is always fun at camp. Everyone always brings something different, and everyone has a unique perspective on “the right way to do it.”
Daniel, Tim, Kevin, and I watched Blake pull crawdads from the creek. Most of the others sat around the “hot tub” and joked and laughed for the remainder of the night. The hot tub was nothing more than a round depression sunk into the rock that contained muddy water. Everyone was enjoying putting their feet in the “hot tub.”
Saturday evening was even more luminous than the previous night; the waxing gibbous had almost reached 100%. Several times in the night I awoke to use the bathroom. I stumbled from my hammock without the need of a headlamp.
Greg met up with us on Saturday night. Daniel, Greg, and I finished out the remainder of the hike on Sunday. Getting an early start, we held the lead home. On the way we saw several box turtles, what appeared to be a dead rattlesnake splayed across the road, and lots of muddy ATV trails. Miraculously we did not see any ATVs on Sunday.
This was another amazing voyage of beauty, peril, toil, and suffering. I can’t wait to do it again!