Due to lack of service days 65 and 66 will come out today

I could not have slept harder last night. Just separating my head from the pillow took a Herculean amount of will power that took almost half an hour to do. My body was no longer exhausted, but my mind was. 

Once I found myself upright, I left cash on the hostel counter (there was no one around who worked there) and headed across the street to the coffee shop for breakfast. I ate an incredible (and massive) bacon egg and cheese on sourdough, drank a large coffee, got a sandwich to pack out and politely declined the coffee shops gracious offer to gift me a metal water bottle to “keep my water cold.” They were incredulous when I said it was just too heavy. 

I walked through Harper’s ferry, past John Browns fort and crossed a bridge over the Potomac River taking me to Maryland. Unlike West Virginia which had 3 welcome signs, Maryland had none. But what it did have was 3 miles along the c&o tow path – a rail to trail recreation path next to the Potomac which is flat, flat, flat. 

West Virginia and Maryland are known for being flat. It’s still hiking. There are still hills. But compared to what we’ve been doing, hiking across these states is supposed to be a walk in the park. Which is good. Because it was 90 degrees again. Even on the slight uphill leaving the C&o, I found myself absolutely drenched in sweat. 

I guzzled water and electrolytes but, once again, could not get enough. I was constantly thirsty and constantly dehydrated. I saw there was a water spigot in a park the trail passed through and stopped for lunch so I could chug as much water as I could. The sandwich I had packed out got devoured in record time and two liters of water disappeared quickly into my stomach as well. 

As I left lunch, some of my prayers were answered. Suddenly the sky darkened and the sun went away. It cooled down dramatically and there were time when I thought about turning on my headlamp it was so dark. 

But then the inevitable happened. It started to rain. It started to pour. I was instantly soaked. At first it felt great – a shower to rinse off the sweat that had collected all over. But, to answer the question that no one has asked, the answer is yes. Rain can cause chafing. 

And boy did it cause chafing today. I had already been struggling with it due to my recent high mileage. My skin not ready for the amount of repetitive rubbing I was subjecting it to. But the rain added a new layer. I slathered Vaseline where I could and then, to my horror, realized I was almost out of the lubricating jelly. I was going to need a channukah type miracle if I was going to keep going. One days of Vaseline was going to have to last a lot longer than it was supposed to. 

As the rain slowed, I saw a structure pop up to my left and realized it was a campground with a real restroom. I stopped by to try and dry off a bit. There were a few other hikers there doing the same so I started chatting with them. We talked about nothing while my mind thought only of chafing. “Weird question,” I said with no real pre thought, “but do any of you have Vaseline.”

“Actually. I have a spare jar if you want it?” Said this one British man who I had previously not been a huge fan of. “I’ve never seen someone so happy to be given lotion,” he added when he saw my face light up. He didn’t understand. This was the best trail magic I had received so far. I almost hugged the annoying twit. 

Fully lubed up, the walk to camp wasn’t bad. It was as flat as promised with just the occasional rolling hill to add a slight challenge.

At around the 27 mile marker my legs let me know they had had enough. But it was another 4 miles to camp. So, like the dutiful soldiers they are, they pushed on the last bit. We moved slowly but got there in time to set up camp before dark. 

I ate my dinner in silence as the sun set and climbed into my hammock. There’s an animal somewhere outside screaming bloody murder in the distance but I’m too tired to care. 

Key stats:

Miles: 31

Elevation gained: 5,100 ft

Mile marker: 1056

Energy left: not a ton