Sunday was my first solo hitch. After leaving Chris and Arla's, I walked up Bennington's main street. Once I stuck my thumb out, the fourth car - a lightweight pickup - pulled over. A guy in his 30's was driving and gestured for me to get in, so I heaved my pack into the truck bed, got in and we were off. He started talking immediately. He was on his way to visit his mom when he saw me. In fact, he said, he had given five hikers rides in 10 days.
At the trail head, he gave me a beer and a Coke for the road.
Sweet way to start the day, man.
On the trail I got to Glastenbury Mountain, elevation 3,748 feet, my tallest yet. It had a fire tower from which one can view the next day's challenge, Stratton Mountain, elev. 3,936 feet.
But there was a crowd of people who were obviously not hikers gathered around the tower. I entered reporter mode and got to the bottom of it: They were scattering the ashes of a friend who loved cross-country skiing and hiking on the mountain. It was his backyard, someone said. The man had died at age 48 of cancer.
[group of people climbing the Glastenbury Mtn. fire tower to scatter the ashes of the recently deceased, July 26, 2009]
The man's brother poured some Kentucky bourbon for me and another hiker when he poured some for himself and one of the deceased's friends. All in all, the mood was festive rather than somber. People were laughing and getting into conversations.
Then I went up the tower. It was windy at the top. I looked around at the green rolling hills.
It was another 10 miles to the shelter were I stayed after a 19 mile day.
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