4/24: Hillsboro, MD

Once I finally got to sleep, I slept well. The night was chilly, and the bivy created lots of condensation, but other than that, it was great.

One of the challenges to the bivy, as well as the new terrain is getting used to strange noises. You learn, I hope, to ignore most of them after awhile. One rather comical moment occurred when I awoke to the feeling of a small animal's feet crawling across my head. In my grogginess, I assumed it was Chris poking around outside, but was startled fully- awake when I realized otherwise. I quickly lifted the flap to see I was staring face- to- face with a fierce, ferocious, ravenous,... pussycat. A pretty one at that. We just sat there for a moment, glaring at each other . I half expected her to say something, but she sauntered off without even saying hello. Wench.

We were up and actually moving around shortly after 10:00. The camp- system is coming together quickly, with each of us falling into our routines both at night, and in the morning. I can find pretty much everything with ease now, and know where everything goes when I'm done. What's past is prologue.

We were packed, fed, out of the woods, and on the road by about 12:30 enjoying another gorgeous day. The plan was to meet up with SR 309, then turn to the south for a meet up with 404.

I had taken my blister- pads off the night before to assess the damage to my left heel, and to let it breathe properly. It is likely the largest blister I've ever had at about the size of a half- dollar. Running short of these pads, however, I re- bandaged it using the old ones and duct tape. A godsend, that duct tape!

I would now like to confirm the rumor: yes, duct tape DOES work as blister tape. However, I would NEVER recommend placing it directly ON the blister itself! Some would say that's common sense... for the record... I did NOT do that!

Considering the condition of my foot, I was feeling quite good, and I could tell that Chris was in his element. His comfort zone. The aire was light, and we were both enjoying being in the middle of nowhere as people mowed their lawns, and just went about their lives in this part of the country I'd normally never see. I do like this about walking and, outside of Hwy. 1, I wish I had done more of it instead of experiencing so much "interstate culture" last year. I was glad now that the cop had turned us around... yet still pissed about the ID check!

It was a few miles to 309, then maybe another four until we finally got to 404. The weather had been in the low 70's, with a nice breeze that picked up as the day progressed. We got some much needed sun, and enjoyed the walk to 404.
At the intersection of 309 and 404 in, what appears to be at least, Hillsboro, we found a little gas station. 404 is the main road from this part of Maryland to the Delaware beaches and, since it's Friday and the weekend forecast is for temps in the mid 80's, ungodly busy. I had to run across the intersection, and that sent my RIGHT heel into the blister- zone. Damn these soft feet! We stopped into the gas station where I got a Coke and pack of cigs (hush!), then we plopped down outside and did our own things for a bit.

At this point, I decided to address these competing philosophies that we have, and knew would become an issue. We had both more or less hoped it would work itself out, but after his experience with Ingrid, and mine with Bruno, I know better than to rely solely on hope. (don't tell Barack) Especially now, after Thursday. I know he's making a great effort to integrate having a travel partner into what he calls "his space", but I was, at that point, having concerns at how successful he was so far. I decided to directly address it, rather than let frustrations fester. The conversation went well, although I believe he tried to gloss over the significance. My struggle is to try to remind him that we're not distance or time- driven, while not allowing myself to go too far in the other direction. I'm not sure this will ever really be resolved; having three major destinations straight ahead makes the avoidance of goal setting, comparisons, and daily expectations nearly impossible. We've both said this will be much easier after we get past Ohio & Michigan. Until then, patience is key... where have I heard that?

We loaded up on water then agreed to get a mile or two out of town, at least across the Tuckahoe River, then scope out places to bivy down. Thinking the Tuckahoe was a mile or two away, we were pleased to cross it after about a quarter mile. Bridge crossing: something we normally don't think about, but this had factored in to much!

We got nearly two miles further down 404 when we found a nice spot, and took advantage of a rare lull on 404 to dart into the woods. After the typical scouting, we found what appeared to be the spot. We began our routines when Chris noticed an abundance of ticks. This quickly brought out the bug spray. Then... I saw a bona fide Black Widow crawling onto my pack, which was leaning against a dead log.

There was quickly one less Black Widow in the world.

I didn't think too much of it, other than lamenting missing getting a pre- execution picture, but while Chris was boiling dinner, I watched another Widow scamper onto my bivy! She too was about to feel Zeus's Hammer when she just stopped, sitting there, eyeballing me. Plotting how to "inflict extreme nausea" on me, I was certain! If I were quick and Eric- smooth, I could get my picture. Then if she sat still, drop the Hammer (shoe) after. She was accommodating on both.

There were now two less Black Widows in the world...

Then another of a large, different variety shortly thereafter...

I hate spiders. Snakes? Fine. Spiders creep me out. Just don't like 'em. I let these three get to me tonight, much to Chris's chagrin I believe! I keep thinking back to that spider den in North Carolina last year, and am imagining sleeping atop a Widow's den.

I let Chris's macho- ass wash dishes, alone, and zipped myself inside to write... and listen to weird noises, surely the sounds of mutant, killer spiders coming from the dead leaves beneath me.