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Outdoors: Knobstone Trail Knobstone Trail - Day 4 April 4, 2006 This morning, I awaken to the sound of cows lowing somewhere off in the distance. It is cold, and everything outside the tent is wet with rain and condensation. The light grows steadily stronger but the sun has yet to show itself from behind the hills. My fingers refuse to do what is asked of them, prefering to seek the warmth of pockets or protected skin. Eventually I'm ready and leave, with tent fly strapped to the back of my pack in hopes that it will dry out. It's a strategy that's failed before. The trail is relatively easy, with a series of gentle ascents and descents. The sky is cloudless and the sun is out. It's cool, but looks to be a nice day. I pass the Oxley Memorial Trailhead and an abandoned homestead; daffodils are here in profusion. The trail continues in an easy mode until MM 38, when there are a couple of stiff climbs. The second takes me up the side of a hill, nearly to the top, around a tree, and then back down in virtually the same direction from which I approached. A trailbuilder's joke, perhaps? I cross a gravel road and pass a sign marking the border of the Jackson-Washington State Forest and pause for a mid-morning snack. A steep descent leads to a rich stream valley; I hope for a chance to walk along it for a while but the trail tears me away and over an adjacent ridge. I pass by a tent near MM 40. I don't see anyone, but hear sounds of folks stirring. It's about 10 AM, or 11 AM daylight time; it's been a long time since I've been able to sleep in that late. The path leading up to the tent is strewn with various bits of gear and I gather them as I go, then drop them near the tent and move on. I'm soon negotiating a series of switchbacks as I start a longish climb towards the junction with the Spurgeon Hollow Loop. The next couple of miles are quite flat as the trail runs over an old roadbed along a stream valley, and I make pretty decent time. Just past MM 43 I pause at the junction with the Spurgeon Hollow trailhead. I sit at the base of the last major climb, at a spot overlooking a lake. I eat the last of my cashews and down the bottle of Propel I've hauled over the previous 43 miles, watching someone fish in the lake. It remains a gorgeous day, not a cloud in the sky, and as I look across the lake at the hills opposite, I can see that the trees have begun to leaf out. I hoist the pack for the last time and head uphill, gradually at first, then at a steeper pitch. In the distance I see a dayhiker, who soon outpaces me and disappears. The descent is steep and badly eroded, but the surrounding hillside is festooned with wildflowers. I see my first adder's tongue of the trip, and a mourning cloak butterfly. The sound of frogs accompanies my final approach to the lake at Delaney Park. As I walk into Delaney Park towards the car, there are two older people with what I assume are their grandkids. One of the kids says "what are those?" and grandpa says "hiking sticks", whereupon the kid replies "why haven't you bought any for me yet"? It was fun, but I'm glad to be heading home to a shower and a change of clothes. I learned a few things that should help me attempt the Georgia segment of the AT next year: make sure I take enough tent stakes; get some lighter gear; find some socks that will stay up; leave the chicken jerky products at home. Maybe next spring I can attempt the Tecumseh Trail, the northern segment of the still incomplete greater Knobstone Trail. Thanks for reading!