8/22/03 We got to Birch Glen Camp at 10:30am. Tumble recalled: "After all this time hiking with poles I now feel like a four legged-creature. I have images of those tanks in Star Wars that lurched across the sand on long spindly legs. Every step has become a four pronged maneuver and I have developed calluses on my hands from holding my poles eight to ten hours a day, but they have proved essential to our safety many times. We also use them to hang up wet things to dry. Rough is amazed at how long it took us to get to Birch Glen Camp. Our packs must be slowing us down more than we realize. Actually, it's me that's slow. I huff and puff up each hill. I thought that by now my lung capacity or breathing would have improved, but I have to keep stopping to catch my breath and wait for the spots in front of my eyes to clear. I may be slow, but I move at a steady pace." At the shelter we read the log and were happy to see that Fancy Pants did not get off the trail, but decided to continue her hike. Good for her. The log also contained other trail news and updates on other hikers who passed by while we were taking "zero days" at the Battleground only a few miles away. Jingle Bells, Brother Buzz, Max Mercury and Me Bull, LT Lone Wolf, and Pilgrim all passed this way. We left our own greeting in the log and moved on.