Frogs

4/6/2013

Frogs

I have placed my bet on frogs!  Hundreds of thousands of frogs, raining down on us from above.  The majority of my fellow Thru Hikers in this shelter are going with locusts....... millions and millions of swarming, buzzing locusts....... locusts so thick that they darken the sky.......and blot out the trail ahead of us.
We are all contemplating the weather.  Trying to anticipate the next pestilence that will surely come tomorrow, or the next day for sure.  There are 8 of us.  We have found shelter from the ice storm, that is pouring down outside.  It is a six person shelter..... a tiny low one with large cracks.  Okay.  There are gaping holes between the log scraps used to throw it together, decades ago.
I was the first here....... hours ago now.  Hell..... I have been here since around 11AM this morning.  I decided that I was simply too wet....... soaked under my raincoat from sweat and moisture seeping through.... wet even on my thighs and butt through my rain pants...... and through my Smartwool.  And too cold to make it ten more miles to the next shelter.
I have only traveled 5 miles today..... five miles after packing up my wet tent in the rain, and moving North.  I knew that I needed to stay here, in spite of the wind blasting directly into the open Southern side...... and the sleet too.   I tried to knock the ice off the handle and bristles of the broom, that some day hiker, or weekender, had carried up here and left.
I sweep as much ice, as I can, off the sleeping platform.  Wow.  There are 3 inch gaps in parts of this platform..... perfect places to drop and lose valuables.
As I lay out my air mattress, my bag, and my quilt, in the least windblown corner, a mouse skitters across the top log of the wall...... drops down to the next log...... and so on until we are looking eye to eye.  Mice in the middle of the day!  Mice..... not even waiting for darkness.  Not good.  I try to send him to heaven with a closed fist..... but he is too fast.  I hang my pack and rain gear on a cord hanging from the entrance beam.  That cord, and all of the others hanging from the beam, run through plastic.... from cut off plastic bottle ends..... or metal from fuel canisters with holes punched in them for the cord to run through.  They are small versions of the cones used to stop squirrels from getting to bird seed,  or the cones on the poles of Wood Duck Houses to protect the eggs from raccoons.  These, found hanging in many shelters, are an attempt to keep the mice from rappelling down the string and getting to the pack.
Then I take off my wet Smartwool top.   Put on both of my dry jackets.  Then put my wet top back on over the jackets.... and climb into, the sleeping bag like, quilt.... which I worked into my bag with my feet.  
Two thirds of the way into the bag, I pour water and slush into my pot..... use a dry match to fire up my stove.... and block the wind as best I can with my heavy duty kitchen trash bag, my water bottle...... and my cold hands. It takes forever, but in time,  the water finally produces a boil....well close enough....and I dump the contents of a Mountain House into the pot.  Eat a hot meal and warm up .
"Wolfgang" joins me at the shelter.  We introduce ourselves and gab for hours.  Then "Maverick" arrives.  And finally "Hot Dog","Whistle", "Clever Girl".....(three women).....and "Dumptruck", and "Apollo,".... all five of whom travel together.... come aboard.  I know all of them.  Four of them were part of the mob of us who weathered the Smoky Mountains blizzard together, back at Mollies Ridge Shelter.
"Apollo" puts his tarp across the opening to cut the wind.  "Hot Dog" hangs her hammock at the front, just inside the tarp,  and the other seven of us squeeze into the six spaces on the wooden sleeping platform.  A few other hikers stop into our nest looking for space....finding only the chance to warm up and rest for a while.
The freezing rain is heavy and the weight of the ice on the trees causes many to crash down.  Some are really big ones.  After one really loud crash, close by outside.... our discussion of frogs and locusts is temporarily set aside, while we debate whether we will all die if one of those trees comes down on the shelter, or only the person directly beneath.
The back wall is leaking by my head....but only a little water is running down the board under my air mattress......the rest of it is freezing before it can get my bag wet.  All I have to do is keep my mattress and bag away from the sharp edges of the wire fencing that is stapled to the lowest log in the wall.  Maybe the fencing keeps the mice from eating the log?  It is dark now, and I can hear a mouse munching his way through someone's food bag. ( Mine, it turned out)
A big limb crashes onto the tin roof, and we all sit up in our bags.
"Whistle" will get sick later, and spend the night heaving her guts out, while "Hot Dog" and "Clever Girl" comfort her.  Most of us have our earplugs in..... so I do not know that Whistle is ill.  I just spend the night wondering what the hell three crazy women are chatting about, intermittently.....all night long.  
But before that,  we all place our bets on what would come next.  And I am sure..... absolutely certain.......that it will be frogs......thousands and thousands of frogs!