Well, this day is one for the record books! My older sister, Sue, came up to help me today. I started just outside the Kettlebowl, then quickly entered. Two years ago every thru-hiker I met had gotten lost in the Kettlebowl. The Langlade County Chapter has done an amazing job re-marking its trails. There’s no way you can get lost on any of them. Kettlebowl was pretty, although it began raining (pouring, actually) near the end, which wasn’t fun.<\/p>\n
Next was Lumbercamp. Before my 2013 thru-hike, I’d read all about the Hillbilly Hilton, an old lumber camp root cellar that’s now a rustic retreat or shelter from the storm. I really wanted to see it, but never spotted it. I was told it was kind of hard to see, but definitely easier to spot heading east-west. I was bound and determined to find the Hillbilly Hilton this time around. Rats — I never did. It was still raining pretty heavily then, and I was watching my footing. Even though I tried to keep an eye out for it — I thought maybe I could take shelter there — I never did see it.<\/p>\n
The drama came after the rain stopped. Sue and I miscommunicated about where we’d meet up next (this was at 2 p.m.). I’d also given her my cell phone to recharge. To make a long story short, we never found each other for the rest of the day. I continued on through Lumbercamp and Old Railroad until the sun went down and I had to get off the trail. I hiked up to a home and a woman helped me reconnect with Sue, who had just called 911 and got the sheriff’s department on alert to look for me. We were finally reunited about 8:30 or 9 p.m. I guess this means tomorrow will be a good day!<\/p>\n<\/div>\n
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Well, this day is one for the record books! My older sister, Sue, came up to help me today. I started just outside the Kettlebowl, then quickly entered. Two years ago every thru-hiker I met had gotten lost in the Kettlebowl. The Langlade County Chapter has done an amazing job re-marking its trails. There’s no way you can get lost on any of them. Kettlebowl was pretty, although it began raining (pouring, actually) near the end, which wasn’t fun.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[69,2],"tags":[],"yoast_head":"\n