Day 4: 9.1K (900′⬇️ 1968’⬆️)

Rieveley Pond – Little Sliammon Lake

Today was intended to be “short” miles, or in this case kilometers. I feel like a smuck for putting in such low mileage, when I know I’m capable and have hiked waaay more, day after day, for months. However, it was clear that this trail was much harder than expected, and my foot was NOT fully healed. Shit! In a quandary of what to do, we decided that we’d do a “short” day and lay up before the big descent to Shingle Mill Pub and our next resupply. The “flat” and the climbs weren’t so bad, but the descents were painful.

The first part of the day included pleasant forest tread, in a green tunnel of sorts. We stopped for a liter of fresh water from a pooling waterfall (Applewood Falls). A freshly built bridge, built with the surrounding available lumber stretched across the flowing water. I think if it had been later in the day, we would have been motivated to take a dip in the crisp cool water. We had however, a lake swim “scheduled” for midday (Sliammon Lake), and at our final destination for the day, Little Sliammon. We wandered through old-growth Maples and differing terrain that did its best to grow atop underlying granite. Narrow creeks and rivers with waterfalls devoid of their grandeur so late in the season flanked us on our right as we descended (and then climbed and descended again) to Sliammon Lake. We had intended to have lunch and to swim there, but I was itching to be done and off my feet.

With essentially 2 more miles to go, Jody and I took a break at the water’s edge past the campground at Sliammon Lake.  It was hot. I was grumpy and my feet were on fire. I took my shoes and socks off to soak my feet in what I had hoped was cold water. I slipped on what my mind immediately recognized as slick rock, but forgot to tell my legs and feet. I recovered enough to not go for a full swim, but not enough to keep from scraping the back of my calf and ankle on the sharp rocks. The tepid water and slimy rocks doused any thought of an intentional swim. Lunch here would be sufficient.

After a bite to eat, I decided to continue while Stacey and Jody lingered lakeside. As I walked by myself, I asked myself if I was having fun. If it was worth the possibility of becoming immobile again.

While I enjoy the freedom, peace, and challenges of a thru-hike, I wasn’t confident of my current ability for the next section with its 6-day food carry. Sure I could gut it out. But at what price? I pondered this as I walked and stumbled over roots and rocks. Damn! This trail reminds me of the Appalachian Trail.  Same stupid rocks, roots, green tunnel, and now heat. At least there are rewards at regular intervals on this trail. But still. Is it enough? What alternatives do I have?

I passed a massive pile of bear poop and thought, shit. (Pun intended) My foot feels like shit. I am NOT having fun. The thought of continuing and possibly worsening my condition weighed on my mind. If I got off trail, this would also probably mean that we wouldn’t be finishing the last of the now-open miles of the AT that we missed last season from Hurricane Helene.  Paul is going to be highly disappointed. I still have time. It’s a short day. Maybe that’ll be enough to give it a rest. On I march.

Just before the last and simply annoying PUD, the trail crested a wide granite slab with an overview of Little Sliammon Lake. The view was comforting. The breeze was refreshing. I sat there pondering my predicament and options. Eventually, Jody and Stacey joined me, but not before a snake slithered through the edge of the bushes. I hate snakes. It was black with a green stripe, so not poisonous as far as I could figure (in this part of North America). But they do swim, so this evening’s swim might be a bit edgy.

Jody and I continued, while Stacey decided to take in the view and have a snack. As we walked, she could see how my foot was affected. She asked me how I was doing. I told her I was considering getting off trail at the Shingle Mill Pub, and giving her my air mattress so she and Stacey could continue.  I told her I was concerned about the possibility of long-term damage. She agreed and told me that she was going to talk to me anyway about getting off the trail. Not because she wanted to use my air mattress,  but because she saw how much discomfort I was in, and didn’t think this trail was worth a further sustained injury. I agreed it was probably best, but I didn’t want to let them down, as the hike was ironically my idea. I still said that I would think about it.

When we arrived at the campground for Little Sliammon Lake, the campsite selection was slim pickings. We knew that the group of 4 was behind us and they would need space for two tents. I dropped my pack and limped around the area looking for and at all the available real estate. Oof. Not much to choose from. The group arrived and we went about trying to parcel out space that would be agreeable to all. Jody and I stuffed our tents into one space and Stacey grabbed a small clearing for her Dursten tent. This left two spaces for the two couples. Everyone was “happy”, including the snakes that kept rustling the bushes from time to time. A group of gals who were ahead of us had arrived an hour before us. Lucky for us they said there was a horde of snakes “everywhere”, (to include having been accompanied by them on their swim from the dock), so they decided to continue hiking the remaining 6K to Shingle Mill Pub and get an Airbnb.

While we were somewhat wary of the snakes, we didn’t see one at any point in or near the water. A big jump off the dock for a swim before dinner was successfully absent of any snakes.

At dinner, I informed Jody and Stacey of my decision. I was going to get off trail, and I was going to figure out how to “trail angel” them to make their hike as successful as possible. Somehow, I would figure out how to lessen their 6-day food carry from the Shingle Mill Pub, and/or meet them on trail with my truck/camper where the trail intersects the road(s).

While they were bummed for me, they understood and agreed it would be the best thing for me. We figured once we got to the Shingle Mill Pub at the 50K point, we’d be able to figure out how to proceed from there.

To be continued…