Last Milestone of the Year

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Annapolis Rock, MD October 24, 2020 — Each year has a melody and closing down the caretaker site at Annapolis Rock is its final note. It’s a whisper, not a crescendo.  We quietly strike the tent, fold up the tarps and secure the tool box.  Then we walk the packboards stage right, down the mountain into winter storage at Washington Monument State Park.  The concert has ended.

What comes next, the budget planning, equipment ordering and hiring process, doesn’t count because they are muffled in winter snow and darkness.

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The first thing we do is inspect the equipment looking for what can be repaired and what needs replacing.

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We string a tarp over the tent to reduce sun damage.  Somehow the rays manage to bleach, breakdown and fade tents and tarps.

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This tent is on its last legs.  We might get another year out of it – maybe.  In the past REI has been gracious enough to donate tents.  Here’s hoping their generosity continues.

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The tool box is secured.  We leave nothing worth stealing but you never know.

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Everything is packed out.   The tarps are worn out and get recycled.  The sun-damaged polyester rope goes into the dumpster.

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It’s a sad ritual that closes out April’s hopes and aspirations.  We shake hands, the ridgerunner submits their final report and the switch flips.  Just as the leaves turn in the forest, it’s time for our ridgerunner to turn the page to a new chapter.  Their brake lights flash at the last stop sign and they are gone.

The tent platform and picnic table stand sentinal through the lonely winter until the new ridgerunner brings them new hopes and aspirations on April 1.

Sisu

Gilligan’s Island Hike. What could go wrong?

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Appalachian Trail south of Harpers Ferry, WV, Friday, October 2, 2020 — We rendezvoused at the church parking lot next to the Appalachian Trail Conservancy in Harpers Ferry.  Hot Starbucks and blueberry muffins fortified the blue sky, dry air and perfectly cool autumn morning.

Bellies comfortably full, the Gang of Four plus one piled into my Subaru, masks on and windows down for the shuttle to our starting point at the Keys Gap trailhead.  From there we planned a three hour tour to Harpers Ferry with a detour to the Loudon Heights scenic overlook.

Our plus one was Nancy who was dubbed the Iron Ranger for her roots in Northern Minnesota’s Iron Range.

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The start was uneventful.  We marched six to eight feet apart. 

The AT is infamous for its rocky tread.  It wasn’t long before the Iron Ranger got bucked off her horse in a classic face plant that dealt her a bruised cheek and a small skinned area on the palm of her hand.  She’s made of Viking stock, so patched up, she soldiered on.  Little did we know that by day’s end we would each do some serious soldiering.

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Taking a break.

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Badass removes a branch blocking the trail, her first experience as a trail sawyer.

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Along the way we photographed natures interesting handiwork.

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Not far from the orange trail that goes to the overlook on Loudon Heights.  This where the “What could go wrong” part comes in.

I’ve hiked through here dozens of times but had never diverted to see the overlook after seeing photos taken there.  It’s excellent, but Maryland Heights was much better, so I never bothered.  Besides I was always in some kind of hurry.

We rallied at the turn off behind the trail sign.  My assumption for a number of reasons was that the viewpoint was less than a mile out of the way.  When we returned, the sign said it was two miles. 

Round trip that’s at least two extra hours.  So instead of finishing at 3 p.m. we finished at 5:30 when the walk all the way back to the church parking log was factored in.  Probably would not have done that if I’d looked at the sign.

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This view of the confluence of the Shenandoah and Potomac Rivers was the holy grail. 

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Trophy pic.

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By the time everyone reached the overlook many of us were spent.  We took plenty of rest breaks on the way to Harpers Ferry.

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Full circle.  Lunch turned into dinner at Keys Gap. Our weary bodies smacked the log benches with the sound of a waitress wet-ragging a plastic table cloth.

There we were with quads made of jelly, sore feet and empty fuel tanks.

Seemingly to pick us up, AWOL bragged her gluts were in fine form.  That was a rare opening.  She has wanted a new trail name, so we started riffing – Hardass, and Buns of Steel emerged as candidates.  Being who we are, Iron Butt won the day.  Iron Butt it is.

At some point I think I was charged attempted murder if not formally that’s what everyone was thinking.  I thank them for the acquittal.

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Saturday night was Badass’s birthday.

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Happy Birthday!

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Celebrating six feet apart at Bulldog’s house. 

Guess what? We had as much fun as they did on Gilligan’s Island and we’re already planning our next outing.

Sisu