I've noticed another thing with the heat. Hikers "bonk". In others words, we run out of energy - be it from needing water or food, having a low blood sugar, not sleeping well the night before, or just pushing too hard for too long on any given day. "Bonking" is when you just hit the wall and do something completely irrational and not "like" you. I've seen people throw their packs, their trekking poles, curse the sky, curse the mountain, curse the tree their passing. My particular version of bonking is to throw a good ol' fashioned two-year-old tmper tantrum. I have no words to say. Tears just well up and I sob uncontrollably, whining and groaning and flailing my arms around in the air. Yeah, it's humiliating to say, and I'm not proud of it, but that's my "bonk". It lasts for about 3-5 minutes, and then I figure out that I need to eat or drink or rest. At first, I was thinking I needed to better control myself. But then I was thinking... when else can a grown woman throw a temper tantrum and no one else will think ill of her? It was like, this is my chance. Now, of all times, I get to just have a good cry, don't have to justify my emotions, and just simply let it all out. It's really quite cathartic. No, I'm not purposefully dehydrating myself to have that moment, but when it happens, I'm just going to let it happen. It happens to all of us out here. So, that's the tears. Let's move on to sweat.
Not much to say here. Sweat stinks. And there's no way around it. I hike uphill, and suddenly I have rivulets running down my nose, dripping from my chin, stinging my eyes. I literally wring out my shirt in the evening. And, of course, then I put it back on (ewwww) and then get chilled as it dries. Really? I'm sweating because it's so stinkin' hot, and I'm STILL getting chilled? Seriously. Thankfully, my shirt is wool so it doesn't hang on to the stench like synthetic clothes do. Sigh, my shorts are nylon. Wow, they are potent - even after washing.
But, to save the best for last... the BUGS! At first, I had my own personal paparazzi of gnats. They swarmed around me everywhere I went. I felt special because I couldn't see the mass of gnats around anyone else (even though I knew they each had their own gnat fan club). It was like I was famous in the gnat-world. And that's all fine and well. But then we got the noseeum's. We have noseeum's in Wisconsin, but they don't bite there. They do here. You can't even see them (hence, the name), but then you just feel this sharp biting pain, followed by itching. Little buggers. My legs are covered in those little red splotches from those vampires. There is just nothing sexy on the Trail, in case you were wondering. Speaking of vampires, there's also mosquitoes, though they aren't quite in full force... yet. Oh just wait. And for waiting, we'll get the flocks of black flies coming up here soon too.
One cool thing with insects if the cicadas. They all emerged a couple days ago, and the forest is LOUD with the cicada song. The trail is dotted with holes from where they crawled out of the ground. Their song sounds like the whirring police siren - only it is constant, starting at sun up until dark. Amazing.
Oh, and there are just all manner of other strange bugs out here. For instance, take a look at this picture. Here I was squatting by a tree to do my business, and there THIS thing at eye level. It's not like I could run away! Do you see the 3 inch stinger/probe/alien appendage on the end of these thing??? It's like it was waiting to do a spinal tap on me. And here I was with my pants down in front of it. It wasn't bothered by me, and it didn't move. So, once I got over my repulsion and once I covered up my cat hole, I did what any other hiker would do... take a picture.
So, bugs, sweat and tears is what the past few days have been about. I know that sounds absolutely miserable. And in some ways it is. But in others, it is absolutely amazing. There is so little that is "comfortable" out here, that you start to redefine "comfort". You redefine what is "disgusting" - I used to find all manner of bugs repulsive. Now, I only worry about what can hurt me - noseeum's, mosquitos, ticks. I don't wory about the cicada shedding its skin on my bug net as I sleep, or the crickets jumping off my legs as I walk through the tall grass, or the millipedes that cross the trail and are just really "ugly." You redfine what is "ugly" or what "stinks" or what merits a temper tantrum. And then, when you do find something beautiful or comfortable or magical, you can really, really appreciate it. I'll admit, the bug pictured above scared me half to death when I first squatted by it. But, as I kept looking at it (some people read magazines while on the toilet - no such luxury out here), I started to see its exoticness and its beauty. I still think it may be an alien capable of spinal taps, but at least it's a beautiful alien.
Good novels are made of such things. :)
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