As I mentioned previously, I went hiking in the Appalachian Trail this week with three of my close guy friends. I was fortunate enough to get to drive the entire 600 miles in an extremely large yet unfamiliar Ford Excursion. We arrived last night just before dark to Mt. Rogers in Virginia. We hiked into the dark only to start setting up our tents and gear in the cold rain. After a difficult time cooking dinner, we went to sleep in our wet set up. Throughout the night, rain continued until I became soaking wet and extremely uncomfortable. This was also my first time in the straight jacket known as a mummy sleeping bag. This was made worse by the fact that my head and feet were touching the tent sides. I became claustrophobic since I couldn't move even to roll over. Suddenly, I became very panicky because I knew I couldn't get out of the bag since I couldn't stop shivering. As some animal brushed against my tent and pushing my feet, I immediately grabbed my pistol and sat awake the rest of the night. I only had a few hours of sleep all night. The little bit of sleep I did get was constant nightmares and paranoia.
This morning it looked like a cold October day with added rain. It felt like hell had just frozen over. I sincerely apologized to my friends, but I had to quit. I knew that I could not survive a week in a soaking wet sleeping bag. Cold and wet just shouldn't go together.
Tonight I sit in the same truck stop parking lot I have been all day. It is not my truck, so I have to find another way out of here. I plan to hitch a ride out of this truck stop in the morning to the nearest big town (60 miles away) so that I can rent a car to go home to my family.
My family has been upset all day (on Mother's Day), and I let my closest friends down. Above all, I let myself down. This May 8th will go down in my history as my weakest day ever.
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