So, John and I dropped off his car at the Delaware Water Gap and headed north along the AT for his first backpacking trip. Hi John. The woods seemed all spring green, but that was because of the many tender ferns and blueberry bushes, and mostly because a godzillion caterpillars had eaten nearly all the oak leaves and had started on the less tasty other trees. I mean, I've seen a lot of caterpillars before, they were pretty bad last year, but this was extra special because of the massive amounts of dead caterpillars. Yah yah, they have to die, so there must have been a lot of living caterpillars. But there were dried out, half-dried out (or half still a lively juicy, if you want), semi-squashed, sun-fried, many varieties of dead dead bugs, most of which hang onto rough bark by their back feet which for some reason remain very sticky long after death. And they seem to prefer dying in clusters. And you will sit on dead ones wherever you sit. Aaaanyway, there were a lot of caterpillars.
The first evening we were reassured that yes, those acres and acres of plants that look and smell like blueberries are indeed blueberries, so we foraged for a bit. It felt so right. At some point during the night I woke up to John saying from his tent that the stars were wonderful, so I stared through my tent screen at them in an ecstatic and thoroughly awed appreciation but then immediately konked back out. I don't know how you can be feeling that awe but still succumb to being unconscious, but, ah well. At a later point, John again woke me up with something to the effect of shit, we have about 5 minutes until the rain, after which I sleepily watched the lightning bolts across the valley, then decided to get nervous and put on the flies. Flys? Mmm, I was nervous in that waking up at night in the middle of the woods and wondering if you should have camped somewhere further from the ridge so you don't get struck by lightning or even worse so that dead tree doesn't get struck by lightning and fall and impale you way, but everything always seems perfectly fine in the morning soooo, yeah. Plus, your dreams are always more exciting if you think you might lose a limb, thus letting you sleep through some of the knobby forest floor discomfort.
