Appalachian Trail Day 3: Backtracking

With the dawn of the new day my hopes had been restored. It was a cold morning and I still shivered, but I explored the shelter carefully. Besides the building itself, there was an old fashioned outhouse, and a spigot tucked low and away from the shelter, marked not fit for consumption, because it was rain-water run-off from the shelter roof, and the gutters on the shelter were filled with leaves and other such unclean things.
Seems the shelter was used by fire spotters from early last century, and was rarely updated. Yet I did drink the water - lots of it. None of the water I had drunk earlier had made me especially sick, though (and again, sorry for the grossness) I did have a small amount of diarrhea the night before. I used the outhouse and water from the tap to get a bit cleaner from that mess. Good thing I hadn't eaten much, eh?
After a change of underwear (one thing I did think of before I left the backpack) and socks, I had a chat with the other hiker, who must have seen that I was in bad shape, and left me with a can of Beanie Weanies and a Snickers bar.
I tried to eat the Beanie Weanies, thinking they were already wet and should go down easy. I was wrong. I had no appetite at all. I thought about resting at the shelter for a day, but it wasn't really a very protective shelter, and the water wasn't guaranteed. I was probably expecting more there than I should have. I half expected a ranger or some kind of person there who could give me a hand. But the reality is, it's just a waypoint and not really designed to be that helpful.
I remembered talking to other hikers who said there were better campsites on the other side of 220, where I started, one who even said he took a bath at a camp site just a half mile in. That became my new goal, to go back where I started, restock and then head the other direction. The only thing I needed to do was backtrack through mostly downhill passages, find the pack, and then continue down.
Around 9 in the morning I started my return trip, and yes, going downhill was faster than going uphill, and certainly less strenuous. Yet because I had eaten so little my strength was not at its peak. I got to my pack about 3 hours after departing the shelter, versus 12 hours going the other way.
I was tempted to continue going down, but my body was in a weakened state, due to muscle fatigue and lack of sleep, I scouted around for a place to camp, though it was only 1-2 pm. Though I regretted having to do it. I set up camp while still within that 0.6 miles of private property. The tent was harder to set up than ever, but once done, I collapsed.
I spent half the night trying to find a comfortable place to set the sleeping bag so I could sleep. Also the temperature plummeted again, though it was dry. The bag did not quite fit around me, so while my lower body seemed plenty warm, the upper body was still very cold and I shivered most of the night. I still could not eat, had limited water and must have smelled atrocious. Yet the day finally ended and I was still alive.