After the rough hiking the night before, I wasn't sure what to expect in the morning. I half expected to have to march to the car and end the trip right there. But a little morning beverage, and grits with bacon, and everyone was rather chipper. We took our time breaking camp. Turkeys were cackling all around us. Isaac and I attempted to mimic them and call them in, no luck.
Back on the trail we were keeping a good pace. The majority of the morning was spent on the Buffalo Trail, which is actually an dirt road that is used to access an old cemetery. We spotted our first deer of the trip. They didn't hang around long as our party was a little spread out. We were each hiking our own hikes today, except Isaac. He didn't like grits, so didn't eat much for breakfast, and didn't really eat many noodles from the night before due to exhaustion. As a result he was running low on energy, and was complaining and trudging along. A short stop for a first lunch, beef sticks and powerbars put a little spring back into his step. After two miles we made our turn onto the turnhole bend trail, or as my kids like to call it the turdhole bend, my sister would be proud.
We hiked down the turnhole trail, a double wide trail running along a ridge, with a few small changes in elevation. We spot a few more deer. Ian was a monster and a ways out in front most of the day. We stopped for lunch under a cedar at the junction between the Sals Hollow trail and Turnhole. Pulled out a couple airmats and sat for a relaxing lunch. Bananas with nutella on a tortilla, and then our random smorgasbord of snack filled our bellies and we rested. A mountain biker passed through while we ate. We saw a total of 9 people on the trail during our trip, so in essence we had the woods to ourselves.
A sign at the trail junction proclaimed we had 2.2 miles until our stop for the night at the Sal Hollow campsite. I was saddened because I thought we had 3.5 miles remaining for the day. I put together this weird loop together because the Bluffs campsite and Sal Hollow campsite are only a mile apart, but I was trying to get at least a 7-8 mile day in to see how everyone could handle miles. Turns out I was correct and the sign was wrong.
Angie and I both noticed that the trails, at least those we were on, are remarkably engineered. They weave back and forth and gradually switch back with little to no real excruciating climbs. They make the hiking almost too easy.
I made everyone wear whistles to assist in finding someone if lost, or in trouble, but we've also discovered that they can be a useful tool in notifying the group ahead of a needed break, or give everyone behind hope when someone has reached a milestone. Isaac and I are bringing up the rear when we hear a whistle from ahead. After rounding the corner back into a ravine we see Angie and the boys playing in a small waterfall that has a reasonable sized cave as its source. The boys proceed up into the cave to explore, and I allow them a few feet (within site) in with their headlamps to peak around a corner.
I wash my dirty shirt, and we sit and play in the cool water. A refreshing, needed, break but we still have around a mile and a half to go. We walk through green hillsides with contrasting stark white limestone protruding up out of the ground all around us. The group breaks up, and I begin to notice the wear on everyone's energy levels as we leapfrog past each other. Little individual breaks are becoming more frequent. Especially as we descend, cross a dry creek and begin our final climb to the campsite. Angie is feeling the hurt of what will eventually become bruised toes. The monster Ian is out in front, for no other reason than he wants to be the one to give the 2 tweet signal that we've reached the campsite cutoff.
Our home for the night is a large flat area, 100 feet down from the ridge overlooking a switchback in the trail we just ascended and further below the green river. We waste no time in making camp, and decide to head down to the river to filter water and play for a while. It's probably around 3:30, 7.5 miles in about 5-6 hours, not bad for us slow pokes.
We wander down overgrown trails to the Green River. The name is perfectly suitable. I've never seen a river so green. During our cave tour Ranger Jerry talked about how a deep banked river, with a limestone base is what makes the emerald green color. The bank is overly steep and there is no nice way to get the 8 feet down to the river. We slide down the hill deciding we'd figure out how to get back up later. The kids are quickly in up to there waists, Angie soaks her sore toes, and I'm in up to my knees. The steepness of the bank continues into the water and we can't get more than a few feet away from shore. Nolan, accidentally, on purpose, quickly slides in up to his neck. The water is fridged and I thought for a moment I was going to have to dive in after him as the cold water shocks him and takes his breath. We casually fill all of our water containers. We don't really want to have to repeat this water gathering expedition. We make our way back to camp after an hour or so.
We play guess who I am around the campfire, eat a meal of mac-n-cheese followed by marshmallows and a fabulous strawberry apple crisp. Ian falls in love with a large fallen birch on the backside of our campsite and sings to it for the majority of the night. He might have slept there. I think everyone is finally adjusting to life on the trail, and we are on our last night. Going home after these trips is always bitter sweet. I'll enjoy regaining all the creature comforts, but the simplicity of being in the woods taking/having the time to look and listen is blissful.
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