Trail identity is a funny thing. Every year I come out and hike, I start the trail feeling like myself, and then become a hiker. This time, by the half-way point at Pine Furnace State park, I started thinking of my life pre-hiking like an actor who has memorized the life of someone else, but hasn’t actually lived it. I feel like when asked questions about who I am and where I am from, I can answer them, but that the life I describe is not mine. As much as I try to keep up with the news and learn things while I’m out here, my brain has gone to power my legs. I’ve become a pair of legs with a stomach on top.
It was hot today and buggy, but I got ice cream at Cloudland Farm. For those in the Vermont/NH area looking for fantastic ice cream, check out Rock Bottom farms organic wintermint ice cream—the best ice cream in the world (except maybe the maple or cinnamon flavored)! I’ve seriously spent 3 years looking forward to once again eating this ice cream at this beautiful farm. How satisfying it was to crack open that pint and have a go at it.
There was much walking through grass fields today…Bill Bryson clearly never hiked much north of Gatlinburg, otherwise he wouldn’t have called his book “Walk in the Woods,” but “Walk in the Fields of Grass Snorkel is Allergic To.”