Day 136
Start: Stealth Site
End: Kent, CT
Miles Hiked: 16.8 Trail Miles
Miles on AT: 1473.6
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The start of a new day meant a new state. Connecticut was on the horizon and I would walk my way into that state shortly. But first I had to get there.
The morning was overcast, keeping temperatures on the low side. I started out my morning slowly, grateful for the easy terrain in this section. On a normal day, I would fly through this section, glad the trail was flat enough for me to move quickly. However, this time, I was glad I could traverse it without having to exert too much effort.
It was only a few short miles before I reached the CT border. My body felt much like yesterday; if I kept to a slow pace, I felt fine, but if I slipped back into my normal active hiker mode, electric zaps would warn me that I was doing too much.
With those limitations in place, I kept moving, climbing slowly up Ten Mile Hill, which was luckily neither 10 miles long nor that steep. I hadn’t seen any NOBOs on trail so far, but I did see a handful of SOBOs coming down from the hill.
As I reached the Housatonic River, more and more day hikers sprang up out of nowhere. I guess it was the weekend. The trail took me along the river and it wasn’t as flat as I’d imagined a river walk would be, but it was flat enough.
When the trail took a turn to go up the next mountain, I decided to continue walking along the river since the trail would eventually meet back up with it at some point. My excuse was that I had to take it easy (which I did), so the gravel road walk was justified.
I stayed on that road for the rest of the day until I made it to Kent. It was a little mind numbing because after the first mile or so, the view of the river disappeared and I was back staring at trees. The flat road made the terrain uninteresting, although I did pass a historical Schaghticoke Indian burial ground with headstones dating back to the 1800s and beyond.
Eventually, I reached Kent, a posh New England town with at least one boarding school and some very expensive cars. I felt like I had stepped into a drama centered around polo and squash. I really grasped the meaning of “New England.” Old money countryside England had been transplanted to the United States and the ties could still be strongly felt. It was a stark difference from the New York I had just left.
Connecticut hotel prices matched the setting, but I bit the bullet in the name of recovery. It felt so good to lay down on a bed. After dinner, I chatted with Janitor and then zonked out. It was great.
And that’s day 136.
A version of this post originally appeared on TheTrek.co.