Writting the events of the day have come with a heavier burden since the Vortex of approaching summit has been drawing us in. The simple act of posting this new entry in the last town on the AT makes another day on my limited time schedule disappear.
I have made a few good hiking friends who are also in the "last days made to remember" mindset. A group mentality has formed within the back of the pack. Some have broken off to hurry ahead by hitch-hiking north, which is called yellow blazing, to Monson so they can catch some friends or because a plane tickets burns the bottoms of their soles.
Others still catch up but end up bobbing back and forth to the group vortex until they are a day behind. I am also sure I will see them again before the summit.
This morning I ate the famous Shaw's breakfast which the hostel serves for $7 a person no matter how much or little you eat. The only thing you have to do is say a number but with that number comes equal parts of pancakes, bacon, sausage, eggs and hash browns. I did 4 this morning; it was hard to finish the pancakes at the end but I must try to fatten up for the 100 miles of wilderness coming up.
I also bought a collapseable fishing rod with the hopes of catching a trout or two while passing the many pristine ponds dotting the multi colored trees sloping down the valley. Although I don't consider myself a fisherman, I like the idea of spending some time by the water in complete calm during the pre dawn. Making ripples with the casting of my lure with hopes of catching dinner to live off the land one more time is what I look forward to.
Whatever the day brings I will be happy. It has been a wonderful journey.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
This is the End, my only friend the End.
I have caught a cold and have been staying in my tent for the last 2 days trying to get well. It's not so bad since the weather has been pleasant although there is talk of frost this evening. In any case, I plan on getting back on the trail tomorrow for an anticipated summit on the 12th of October. I am very much looking forward to completing and will be accepting "Congratulatory you made it now feast on this packages" at:
chef Fred Kedzior
general delivery
Millinocket ME 04462
hold for thru hiker 10/16
thanks for reading and your support. This has been a wonderful adventure and life lesson I will never forget.
chef Fred Kedzior
general delivery
Millinocket ME 04462
hold for thru hiker 10/16
thanks for reading and your support. This has been a wonderful adventure and life lesson I will never forget.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
My Maine Moose
I have reached the last state on the Appalachian trail. Maine is the last and most wild environment we are to encounter during our eventful journey. It boasts the 100 mile wilderness which lets no one out of the grips of nature for nearly a week and mount Katahdin the final summit of a 2,178mile hike. Things have been speeding up only because there is less of "IT". Every step seems to be more meaningful.
It's is now clearly autumn and the change of foliage is taking a hold of upper New England. The yellow and bronze is oozing from the trees. Lakes and ponds seem to spring from every mountain top as though we were in a painting. Cool days of sunshine bathe my exhaustive hikes over windy peaks. I must constantly adjust to the changing weather, temperatures and patterns of the land but with it I learn the beauty of nature as it must be.
The auburn and gold leaf litter on the trail makes my feet kick up. And when I hit patches of red maples leaves paving a red carpet path as though I were a rock star going into the Grammy's, it seems the streaming sunlight flashing through the trees and gently swaying ferns yearning for my touch are paparazzi and adoring fans. My final walk to the podium approaches and the lime light grows brighter. I try to take my time and rest my head at night thinking of the sights seen and dream of those still to come.
But I woke with a strange taste in the back of my throat a few days ago. It was dry and metallic although it did not make it hard to swallow or sore. I had a desire to see a moose for no disernable reason. What had the autumn air in Maine done to me?
I rose quickly and packed up for the day. I started a steep climb and drank my water quickly but soon found that a good water source was hard to find. When I reached the ridge line I had no choice but to continue in a semi dehydrated state until I came across a spring.
During the next hour or so I focused on all the moose tracks left in the mud, moose trails leading in and out of bogs but also all the moose poop on the side of the trail. I became obsessed with finding more tracks, more poop or just getting a glimpse of the brown backside of a moose. Then it hit me; I had gotten MOOSE FEVER!
I had been set up! All through New Hampshire the front yards were littered with moose statues. Some of wood, some of metal, others as goofy looking plastic models 10feet tall inviting you to play a game of mini putt. Even the local business establishments were of a moosey affiliation: Mosely bagels, The Moose lodge, Moose over the Moon ice cream shop, etc.
It only got worse. In Gorham, a town only a few miles from Maine, an artisan makes earings and other jewlery out of the fibrous excrement of the beloved moose. People are wearing moose shit as designer fashion; this is ridiculmoose!
My state was getting critical. I needed to see a moose before long for fear of never returning to the civilized world because I had fallen too deeply to the fever and gotten into some moose job dealing with poo or new-age offal cuisine. There was still hope but I needed to act quickly and especially find water to quench the thirst my moosely state had invoked.
I continued to march down the trail hoping for a cure or appeasement to my symptoms. Already I had stopped a few times thinking a large rock or stump was masquerading as my moose. Yes, my moose, I was getting possessive and moose rocks were beginning to look at me funny. Oh the guile of these stones to look down at me for mistaking my moose for a cold hard lump. They would never know such adoration.
Finally exhausted and now almost deliriously dehydrated, I sat by the side if the trail eating the last granola bar I had left. The fever pitch was upon me and I barely regained my composure before delving into a nearby pile of moosey poopy à la Grizzly Man. Yikes! How far could I let myself go before hitting the point of no return?
I then lost track of time but it seems I hiked for days in search of moose and water to quench my feverish thirst. Others had seen moose, I was sure of it. They had survived the fever and drank their fill but what should I do differently to soften the blow and get my rightly deserved moose sighting?
Nothing. There was nothing to do but go about my usual business. So it came unexpectedly after coming from a small spring with my cantine filled with cold mountain water. He heard me first, my moose, and stirred in the tall brush as I was rounding the corner. I knew at once this was the moment I was waiting for so reached for my camera. The cure to what ailed me was tromping clumsily through the clearing and into the thicket of branches and shrubs as I pointed the lens to shoot. I would have only gotten a blurry picture of it's backside had he not stopped and turned to look at me. I froze in his uninterested, slightly bottered glance. Eventually, after hours of staring (it could have been that long) I snapped a blurry picture of my Maine moose through trees and leaves with my crappy 8.1 mega pixel compact camera.
I felt better instantly and came to my senses. Seriously, what's the big deal about moose? They're just big brown cows with antlers!
Thursday, September 10, 2009
The big, bad, beautiful White Mountains
The weather couldn't be more perfect. Since the full moon came on September 4th just about everything has been splendid. I am sitting on top of mt Lafayette enjoying the views and cool breeze some 5250ft from sea level. The climbs get harder but every step is worth it once you reach the top. From here the mountain views are beautiful, the distant ridges fade into lighter hues of blue and clouds nip the top of the higher peaks...many of which I will soon conquer.
If I had continued on the original pace I was on before stopping in mid June, the rain would have poured for weeks; at least that is what I have gathered of emails, shelter journals and short conversations with many of the hiking friends I started with. For many the White mountains are the most anticipated section of the AT for it's above ridge line trails, astounding peaks and huts which allow you to "work for stay" (usually an hour's work after which they feed you and let sleep in the mess hall). I had a large helping of pasta with tomato sausage sauce and garlic bread. Pancakes in the morning.
Earlier today while walking to the base of Mt Lafayette, I passed a stunning little brook with water so clear it almost reflected the sun. It passed under the highway and I had the urge to jump in so that is exactly what I did. The water was frigid but invigorating and coming out to lay in the warm sun with the naked breeze drying my raw skin wraped me in a blanket of freedom and completeness. The sound of tires passing over me at 70mph and the trickling of the brook actually meshed for a short time as I was swept away by a cat nap.
Now I am sitting on top of mount Lafayette and I can't get down it's so pretty and peaceful. It's a rare and wonderous sight to take in on such a clear day so I will try to enjoy as much of it as I can.
If I had continued on the original pace I was on before stopping in mid June, the rain would have poured for weeks; at least that is what I have gathered of emails, shelter journals and short conversations with many of the hiking friends I started with. For many the White mountains are the most anticipated section of the AT for it's above ridge line trails, astounding peaks and huts which allow you to "work for stay" (usually an hour's work after which they feed you and let sleep in the mess hall). I had a large helping of pasta with tomato sausage sauce and garlic bread. Pancakes in the morning.
Earlier today while walking to the base of Mt Lafayette, I passed a stunning little brook with water so clear it almost reflected the sun. It passed under the highway and I had the urge to jump in so that is exactly what I did. The water was frigid but invigorating and coming out to lay in the warm sun with the naked breeze drying my raw skin wraped me in a blanket of freedom and completeness. The sound of tires passing over me at 70mph and the trickling of the brook actually meshed for a short time as I was swept away by a cat nap.
Now I am sitting on top of mount Lafayette and I can't get down it's so pretty and peaceful. It's a rare and wonderous sight to take in on such a clear day so I will try to enjoy as much of it as I can.
Monday, August 31, 2009
So there I was covered in motor oil (Joel McCollough's signature story opener)
This blog inspired from an entry in a shelter register quoting a paragraph from Hemingway. It did not say what it was but I like it enough to keep thinking about it.
Temperatures dropped steeply with the coming hurricane Danny which left many hikers unprepared for cold in August. In town the following day, most of the talk was taking place at the outfitters about the cold night spend. This is a romanticized version of my night.
-________________________________________________________________________-
There was no real alternative to bearing the elements for the evening so he marched on under the turbulent gray sky and past the cool breeze whisping in the air. At the shelter, the couple with the shy dog reorganized their possessions on one side, talked, ate in silence, smoked a cigarette, made plans and asked questions while all he though of reminded him of the cold night ahead. With the moon rising into the storm he counted miles and weighed options while fully dressed for battle in everything he carried and armored in a silver emergency blanket. The slash of the wind and spill of the mist on his face carried his dreams from color comfort to damp drab. He awoke in the dark not knowing what else to do but turn his back to the cold to ignore it once more. When it was clear the shivering would not allow his sleep to come he pulled out the last reserve Handy Warmer and held it with tenderness. For a moment in the constant crinkle of wind abutting against plastic, his heart was warm and loved and he forgot about the cold and fell again to the night. If he'd slept until dawn a victory would have been his but the smell of cold on his nose made his eyes tear and in somber silence he emerged from the covers to give life to the deadened limbs. Ferociously awaiting the break of day in the impenetrable dark, he knew he was beaten. With thoughts of the sunrise leading him off the mountain he struggled with the moisture condensating on the plastic covers, wetting his socks, contorting his body into an ever smaller ball of goose bump flesh. In the last hours of the night he concentrated the warmth he had left and perhaps his exhaustion pulled his eyelids closed because there was nothing else to be done. The morning would come no sooner than when he had given in.
Temperatures dropped steeply with the coming hurricane Danny which left many hikers unprepared for cold in August. In town the following day, most of the talk was taking place at the outfitters about the cold night spend. This is a romanticized version of my night.
-________________________________________________________________________-
There was no real alternative to bearing the elements for the evening so he marched on under the turbulent gray sky and past the cool breeze whisping in the air. At the shelter, the couple with the shy dog reorganized their possessions on one side, talked, ate in silence, smoked a cigarette, made plans and asked questions while all he though of reminded him of the cold night ahead. With the moon rising into the storm he counted miles and weighed options while fully dressed for battle in everything he carried and armored in a silver emergency blanket. The slash of the wind and spill of the mist on his face carried his dreams from color comfort to damp drab. He awoke in the dark not knowing what else to do but turn his back to the cold to ignore it once more. When it was clear the shivering would not allow his sleep to come he pulled out the last reserve Handy Warmer and held it with tenderness. For a moment in the constant crinkle of wind abutting against plastic, his heart was warm and loved and he forgot about the cold and fell again to the night. If he'd slept until dawn a victory would have been his but the smell of cold on his nose made his eyes tear and in somber silence he emerged from the covers to give life to the deadened limbs. Ferociously awaiting the break of day in the impenetrable dark, he knew he was beaten. With thoughts of the sunrise leading him off the mountain he struggled with the moisture condensating on the plastic covers, wetting his socks, contorting his body into an ever smaller ball of goose bump flesh. In the last hours of the night he concentrated the warmth he had left and perhaps his exhaustion pulled his eyelids closed because there was nothing else to be done. The morning would come no sooner than when he had given in.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
A readjustment now and then
What a crazy time of reajustment! The change is incredible from 2 months ago. In June, the weather was barely warm and the bugs nearly inexistent. The past week has made me endure the weather and all it's surprises like I never could have expected. The sun and humidity brought by the hurricane Bill drenched me in sweat as though the rain cloud was over my head. My shoes were flooded and I had to be careful with heat exhaustion, dehydration and my water intake. The humidity wrung every bit of moisture from my body, I was boderline cramping, stiffening up and buckling at the knees. I am not built for the hot weather...did you know I was born in a snow storm on a blustery January day in Montreal?
Worst are the Mosquitos I have encountered since entering Massachusetts; nothing more than Massquitos so far. They riddle me with their bumps and turn my arms, legs and back into the Braille writings of their fiendish hunger and violent itch. South bound (SoBo) hikers read upon my bumpy flesh the toils of stopping to get water or tying a shoes while pricks pierce my t-shirt and relentless attacks break me. I run through sections in the hopes of warding off some of the pesky insects, douce myself with repellent or wish for the oncoming thunderstorm to pour down more rain drops than they can avoid. None work when the breeding grounds of marsh land and flooded corn fields are straddled between the AT and me. Massquitos still bite in the pouring rain.
But not all is lost in the constant scratch and sniff of the wilderness. I have found the stories of past friends in the registers at the shelters. Most are coming very close to finishing their adventure hike, some have climbed Katahdin already but all have left a piece of their story for me to find. I learned more about a good man named Moses from an entry he wrote on June 14 about the death of his father, his atheist outlook, the solitude he searched and many subtile things he did not share during our many days of hiking. Among the serious is also the playful daily writings and glimpses of my fellow companions' journey which I imagine from the few lines they scribble on the page before stomping off.
I am now in Dalton Massachusetts where a man named Tom Levardi has opened his home to hikers and all their smelly needs. His house is packed, we sleep on the floors where the couches have been filled and yet he does not ask nor accept anything for his graciousness. Tomorrow he will bring a few of us 30 miles north where we can slack pack south back to his house (leave the packs at the house in order to hike faster and further). It should be a great day to hike, especially 35lbs lighter. Also, Mosquitos are behaving and the cool nights craddle me to sleep.
Worst are the Mosquitos I have encountered since entering Massachusetts; nothing more than Massquitos so far. They riddle me with their bumps and turn my arms, legs and back into the Braille writings of their fiendish hunger and violent itch. South bound (SoBo) hikers read upon my bumpy flesh the toils of stopping to get water or tying a shoes while pricks pierce my t-shirt and relentless attacks break me. I run through sections in the hopes of warding off some of the pesky insects, douce myself with repellent or wish for the oncoming thunderstorm to pour down more rain drops than they can avoid. None work when the breeding grounds of marsh land and flooded corn fields are straddled between the AT and me. Massquitos still bite in the pouring rain.
But not all is lost in the constant scratch and sniff of the wilderness. I have found the stories of past friends in the registers at the shelters. Most are coming very close to finishing their adventure hike, some have climbed Katahdin already but all have left a piece of their story for me to find. I learned more about a good man named Moses from an entry he wrote on June 14 about the death of his father, his atheist outlook, the solitude he searched and many subtile things he did not share during our many days of hiking. Among the serious is also the playful daily writings and glimpses of my fellow companions' journey which I imagine from the few lines they scribble on the page before stomping off.
I am now in Dalton Massachusetts where a man named Tom Levardi has opened his home to hikers and all their smelly needs. His house is packed, we sleep on the floors where the couches have been filled and yet he does not ask nor accept anything for his graciousness. Tomorrow he will bring a few of us 30 miles north where we can slack pack south back to his house (leave the packs at the house in order to hike faster and further). It should be a great day to hike, especially 35lbs lighter. Also, Mosquitos are behaving and the cool nights craddle me to sleep.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Back on the road again
Here is a mid hike inventory check. The before and after pictures tell the story of my gear evolution. It's probably hard to tell but the before picture was taken from a chair so I could get the whole carpet while the after picture is about 1/3 of the carpet. I also have about 4 days worth of food as opposed to none. It must mean I am ready to go.
It's been about 2 months since I got off and I have been doing some work painting and re-working double hung windows. It was a great to spend some time working on a project and focusing solely on daily a task. Not much different from hiking but with more amenities and ice cream.
Now I have a clear path to the finish, I am yearning for accomplishment, if only to get back to the "usual grind". Not that I want to work 5 days a week with 2 weeks vacation and get stuck in the 2 day weekend chasm. I guess I should start playing those scratch off tickets with leprechauns to win 2k a month for the rest of my life in order to uphold this vagabond lifestyle. And besides the grass is always greener on the other side.
I will be taking the train from NYC to the border of Connecticut where I will have about 900 miles to go. I am anxious and excited to start again. The summer will come to a close, the foliage will multicolor with the cold autumn sweeping in. The hikes will get harder again but with the climbs will come breath taking vistas. I even have a new compact pillow (my one luxury item besides music) so even cold, hard nights are appealing...at least until the novelty wears off. I'll also have my phone so call me up so I can answer from the top of mountain. Talk to you then!
Friday, August 14, 2009
A Maker's Mark of 30 miles
Part 2
Off i was again on the trail heading north, a small town stop at Boiling Springs PA keeping me focused and on pace. Although I was growing tired as the day went on I was determined to make the 30 mile mark. I decided to stop for dinner so I would be able to continue through the night, if needed, to finish.
Dusk was closing in when I arrived to the charming little town of Hot Springs where the trail passed right through town, around a pristine man made pond full of fish with a gazebo on the side until reaching the AT Conservancy. I took a little break looking at the pamphlets, weighing my pack (a cool 34lbs) and talking to Dancing Wolf who was a SOBO (south bound). We decided to have a beer at the restaurant/bar across the street for our general sanity and because it's about the simple pleasures opportunity gives you.
The restaurant was upscale for the small town with dark wood, a terrible carpet and old timers at the dinner tables drinking mediocre wine at high prices. We dropped out bags on the side of the building and went straight to the bar but Dancing Wolf was told he was not allowed in the establishment with the cut off T-shirt he had on. I was in my muddy gaiters, stinky clothes but passed the requisite dress code so ordered a beer and shot of bourbon only to be told there was a 1 drink at a time per person limit. Obviously, this place was trying to keep the fine dining appeal and I understood completely but could not hold in my immediate approval of Dancing Wolf's alternate shirt when he walked in with a tie dye peace symbol. Ends up the bartender was really cool, had worked in DC, took care of us, chatted when he had the chance and introduced us to a regular whom we ended talking to for quite a while. He was indeed as classy as the establishment he represented.
Now, I could attempt to recall the conversations we had with Tom the snake expert who collected American Indian artifacts and coached the Hershey Bears years ago or the how the regular we were introduced to (who's name I forget) was a divorce(eh) whose daughter was the hostess etc etc. The point is I had a great time talking with all the fine folks who were there; the 3 pilots even showed up. I inadvertently waited out a thunderstorm while sipping on my 3rd Maker's Mark and Ginger. Everything was working out well.
Although I did have beers a few times on the trail I never got drunk; having a beer was like eating all the things you missed, a craving for the taste of things unavailable. Well, on this night I was drunk and enjoyed every minute of it. The bar closed at midnight, Dancing Wolf and I walked out laughing the whole way about nothing in particular. Since he was Sobo and I was Nobo we parted ways with a drunken slap in the face as though we had a long standing childhood friendship that allowed for such intimate and violent contact. Dancing Wolf headed to the gazebo for the night and I headed up the road to find the trail but I doubt I will ever hear from him even though I passed on my info and he said he would email. Passing friendships on the AT are momentous and minute.
At this point most would have given up on making the 30 mile mark but I was still ready to continue the 8 miles needed. The rain had passed, my mind was made up, my legs fueled with Maker's Mark so I started into the night with headlamp lighting the way into the woods and fields of PA. I sang and stumbled my way through the wet leaves and high grass until my shoes had soaked up all they could. I was now squishing past the cow pastures and crossed the PA turnpike in the dead of the night losing track of how far I had to go to break the 30mi mark. So I hiked some more until I got to a foot bridge near Carlisle PA.
This was were I was going to stop for the night no matter if I had accomplished my goal or not. I was exhausted, the Maker's Mark fueled drive had worn off and the rain was beginning to start up again. Although I knew I should put up a proper camp, change out of my hiking clothes, brush my teeth or, at least, take off my shoes I simply put my ground pad down and layed down with my sleeping bag.
The few hours of sleep I got were torture. I was never comfortable, cold and wet, tossing and turning, down right miserable. I could have changed all this easily but did not have the energy to devote to the effort. The morning was worse. My feet were completely shriveled and white with pain. All I wanted was a shower, a nice breakfast and a couch to lay on. What I had was a dirty little strip of land between 2 large roads with trucks roaring past, a booming headache and little else to ease my achy breaky self. Even the realization that I had made the 30 mile mark gave me little comfort.
It took me hours to get moving again. All my gear was wet and strewn around the trail. Luckily I only had 10 miles to go until I would get picked up in Duncannon. The day was tough and I was ready to call it quits at every step. Still I persevered and told myself this was part of the good, the bad and the ugly of trail life. It makes for a good story but I learned an important lesson that day: Hiking and drinking don't mix.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Tales of the Toothless- an email worth sharing
I have encountered some fine folks with quirks all their own worth telling stories about...most with teeth though.
One guy that came to mind was named Captain because of a his feathered low brim cap and long white beard. He had a funny way of talking as though every sentence was pulled from a bag with the slow croaking intonation of an old man in a rocking chair pulling the corn cob pipe from his lips, then waiting, and finally starting; except the captain smoked small cigars. He was from New Orleans and had that uncanny calm, jovial atmosphere of a southern gentleman at Mardis Gras about him which added to the absolute silliness of his speaking. The man had hiked the Appalachian Trail for the past 16 years or so, making sure to mark off every section on the map. His 2 weeks in the Shennandoah's would mark off the last bits of Virginia and, on the day I met him, was also to be his last day on the trail until next year when he would take on another 14 day adventure. He carried nothing sparingly in the old external frame back pack and wore boots which were completely reconstructed with duct tape because they had fallen apart a few days back after many years of service. His stove was the heavy coleman propane type standing 10inches high, 6 inches in diameter and weighing at least 4 pounds.
He joked he had a jet pack and needed only to hit the button to fly off.
Although I can't remember the specific silliness of this man, I can say he was as kind and warm hearted as I have ever met. He offered to dry off my socks with his propane stove but the open flame on wool made me consider having wet socks to having none. We were getting to be as close as hikers can get in a cramped shelter of 5 while being pinned in by the rain. A few newly graduated Pitt Alumni came down the hill then(and this is probably the reason I thought of this story) so I recalled a few 'souf Oakland fo' life' hangouts while they told me the new spot in place. The newly grads filled their water and headed back up the hill to camp so we continued chit chatting until the sun when down and the rain fell again.
He was quite a character. In the morning he was packed and ready to go before anyone else even though he had only to hike to the parking lot a mile away to wait for his girlfriend or wife to pick him up. He had 3 cigars left so could wait until noon at least. I never got a picture of him, never knew his given name, nor what he did for a living. Couldn't tell you if he had kids, a family to love or a dog by his side at home but I'd be happy to see on the streets or mountain trail again to talk for talking's sake.
Those are the times I like best. But looking back may romanticize or idealize the memory of it. Maybe that's what makes it so nice to remember.
One guy that came to mind was named Captain because of a his feathered low brim cap and long white beard. He had a funny way of talking as though every sentence was pulled from a bag with the slow croaking intonation of an old man in a rocking chair pulling the corn cob pipe from his lips, then waiting, and finally starting; except the captain smoked small cigars. He was from New Orleans and had that uncanny calm, jovial atmosphere of a southern gentleman at Mardis Gras about him which added to the absolute silliness of his speaking. The man had hiked the Appalachian Trail for the past 16 years or so, making sure to mark off every section on the map. His 2 weeks in the Shennandoah's would mark off the last bits of Virginia and, on the day I met him, was also to be his last day on the trail until next year when he would take on another 14 day adventure. He carried nothing sparingly in the old external frame back pack and wore boots which were completely reconstructed with duct tape because they had fallen apart a few days back after many years of service. His stove was the heavy coleman propane type standing 10inches high, 6 inches in diameter and weighing at least 4 pounds.
He joked he had a jet pack and needed only to hit the button to fly off.
Although I can't remember the specific silliness of this man, I can say he was as kind and warm hearted as I have ever met. He offered to dry off my socks with his propane stove but the open flame on wool made me consider having wet socks to having none. We were getting to be as close as hikers can get in a cramped shelter of 5 while being pinned in by the rain. A few newly graduated Pitt Alumni came down the hill then(and this is probably the reason I thought of this story) so I recalled a few 'souf Oakland fo' life' hangouts while they told me the new spot in place. The newly grads filled their water and headed back up the hill to camp so we continued chit chatting until the sun when down and the rain fell again.
He was quite a character. In the morning he was packed and ready to go before anyone else even though he had only to hike to the parking lot a mile away to wait for his girlfriend or wife to pick him up. He had 3 cigars left so could wait until noon at least. I never got a picture of him, never knew his given name, nor what he did for a living. Couldn't tell you if he had kids, a family to love or a dog by his side at home but I'd be happy to see on the streets or mountain trail again to talk for talking's sake.
Those are the times I like best. But looking back may romanticize or idealize the memory of it. Maybe that's what makes it so nice to remember.
A Maker's Mark of 30 miles
Part 1
I have had trouble with the last few entries of the blog because I find it hard to write about all the things that happen and go through my head while on the trail without making a novel out of it. Seems to me the compression of all these experiences in a few short paragraphs takes away from immediate experiences and convolutes what I want to portray. So in the hopes turning over a new blogging leaf and, perhaps, even finding my voice, more noteworthy daily occurrences will be at the forefront. I’d like to thank a friend and luminous blogger in their own rite for the gchat discussion about the subject whose own experiences can be found at http://faildatedc.blogspot.com/.
With that said, I’d like to tell the tale of my 31.2 mile day. It is the most miles I have been able to log in a 24hr period and a very eventful day. Although I had been doing some big miles throughout the Shennys (Shenandoah’s), I had only reached 29 miles so breaking the 30 mark was a hefty feat I wanted to reach before hitting rocky and mountainous terrain past PA but also because I knew I would get off the trail again soon and possibly “get soft”.
As you can imagine the preparation for an endurance challenge of this sort takes planning and preparation. There are some who are able to hike throughout the day without stopping for lunch or long rest times, they eat gorp and snacks all day, stop only to refill and drink on the go without slowing down for hours on end. There are even stories circulating about doing 50 miles a day (Fasttrack) or holding a steady 30+ miles per day (James, he like to hike barechested) but I am not one of that sort. I like to cook an extra batch of rice, tuna and fajita seasoning the night before, make some burritos for the long day ahead and organize my thoughts to be mentally prepared for the physical onslaught I am about to bring on. So, on this particular night of preparation, I found myself alone in the shelter which was probably because the Half Gallon (of ice cream) Challenge was only a few miles away and most everyone pushed ahead to gorge. Newly lactose intolerant from lack of dairy on the trail, I did not consider putting myself in digestive peril, enough said.
My day began early after a thunderous night of rain which woke me to disco lightning and boombastic bass; these are the nights, and there have been many, where you are thankful to have a roof over your head. Walking down the trail was made tricky because of the late night downpour which left all the overgrown bushes and shrubs hanging in the path and soaking my pant legs as I passed by so I put my trekking poles out in front to knock down any major accumulation. After a short time I was walking on a paved road again, a common occurrence since getting out of the larger national forests of the south.
I came to a farm which had been recently converted to a hostel but held much more history and transformation than I could have imagined. This Park/Campground used to be known as Pine Grove Furnace where there once stood a large mining kiln for production of iron ore, an intricate bi-lateral maze of railroad tracks, a large workforce and a plain view of the southern countryside…more precisely, a lookout point from the barn to safeguard the underground railroad. Although I did not see it, those who stayed at the hostel and with whom I hiked with that day, told me of the hidden rooms by the furnace, small trap doors leading underground, and the history of this unassuming barn.
I had caught up to a new friend named Stuff Sac at Pine Grove who was also attempting to do a 34 mile day so we hiked along for a time telling stories, passing the ½ way mark of the AT and describing other hikers we had met along the way. Stuff Sac was a skinny lad but one that did not stop, so before long he pressed on while I had lunch. I would not see him until I arrived at the Doyle 2 days later where he told me he was able to keep his 3mph pace and make his designated shelter by nightfall. In contrast, I would barely break my marker and it was well into the night.
During lunch, a group of 3 older gents passed by who were friendly enough to chat for a second although the skies were looming with dark clouds and bad intentions. They all worked either as pilots of air tower controllers and 1 had married the sister of another. No matter. I would see them again and they were good fellas.
After they left and I had eaten my pre-made burrito, I got to my feet slowly and caught the glimpse of a 4 leaf clover. I picked it and looked for more. There was another not too far away. I have had some pretty “lucky” days on the trail where my records held to 6 four leaf clovers but this proved to be a drop in the bucket at the end of the rainbow. I was able to find 8 and had to tell myself to stop looking down because every time I did all the regular 3 leaf clovers were a blanket with 4 leaf clovers popping out of them. I swear I could see them clearly, 5 feet away; it was incredible. Of course the beauty of this is I have no idea how much time I spent looking for the clovers. I may have thought they were everywhere but I did move around the humungous patch quite a bit.
All good things must come to an end. I suited up, found another clover as I was leaving and left in on the little rock steps I had had lunch on. It was past noon, the sky was still gray, I was not even half way done.
I have had trouble with the last few entries of the blog because I find it hard to write about all the things that happen and go through my head while on the trail without making a novel out of it. Seems to me the compression of all these experiences in a few short paragraphs takes away from immediate experiences and convolutes what I want to portray. So in the hopes turning over a new blogging leaf and, perhaps, even finding my voice, more noteworthy daily occurrences will be at the forefront. I’d like to thank a friend and luminous blogger in their own rite for the gchat discussion about the subject whose own experiences can be found at http://faildatedc.blogspot.com/.
With that said, I’d like to tell the tale of my 31.2 mile day. It is the most miles I have been able to log in a 24hr period and a very eventful day. Although I had been doing some big miles throughout the Shennys (Shenandoah’s), I had only reached 29 miles so breaking the 30 mark was a hefty feat I wanted to reach before hitting rocky and mountainous terrain past PA but also because I knew I would get off the trail again soon and possibly “get soft”.
As you can imagine the preparation for an endurance challenge of this sort takes planning and preparation. There are some who are able to hike throughout the day without stopping for lunch or long rest times, they eat gorp and snacks all day, stop only to refill and drink on the go without slowing down for hours on end. There are even stories circulating about doing 50 miles a day (Fasttrack) or holding a steady 30+ miles per day (James, he like to hike barechested) but I am not one of that sort. I like to cook an extra batch of rice, tuna and fajita seasoning the night before, make some burritos for the long day ahead and organize my thoughts to be mentally prepared for the physical onslaught I am about to bring on. So, on this particular night of preparation, I found myself alone in the shelter which was probably because the Half Gallon (of ice cream) Challenge was only a few miles away and most everyone pushed ahead to gorge. Newly lactose intolerant from lack of dairy on the trail, I did not consider putting myself in digestive peril, enough said.
My day began early after a thunderous night of rain which woke me to disco lightning and boombastic bass; these are the nights, and there have been many, where you are thankful to have a roof over your head. Walking down the trail was made tricky because of the late night downpour which left all the overgrown bushes and shrubs hanging in the path and soaking my pant legs as I passed by so I put my trekking poles out in front to knock down any major accumulation. After a short time I was walking on a paved road again, a common occurrence since getting out of the larger national forests of the south.
I came to a farm which had been recently converted to a hostel but held much more history and transformation than I could have imagined. This Park/Campground used to be known as Pine Grove Furnace where there once stood a large mining kiln for production of iron ore, an intricate bi-lateral maze of railroad tracks, a large workforce and a plain view of the southern countryside…more precisely, a lookout point from the barn to safeguard the underground railroad. Although I did not see it, those who stayed at the hostel and with whom I hiked with that day, told me of the hidden rooms by the furnace, small trap doors leading underground, and the history of this unassuming barn.
I had caught up to a new friend named Stuff Sac at Pine Grove who was also attempting to do a 34 mile day so we hiked along for a time telling stories, passing the ½ way mark of the AT and describing other hikers we had met along the way. Stuff Sac was a skinny lad but one that did not stop, so before long he pressed on while I had lunch. I would not see him until I arrived at the Doyle 2 days later where he told me he was able to keep his 3mph pace and make his designated shelter by nightfall. In contrast, I would barely break my marker and it was well into the night.
During lunch, a group of 3 older gents passed by who were friendly enough to chat for a second although the skies were looming with dark clouds and bad intentions. They all worked either as pilots of air tower controllers and 1 had married the sister of another. No matter. I would see them again and they were good fellas.
After they left and I had eaten my pre-made burrito, I got to my feet slowly and caught the glimpse of a 4 leaf clover. I picked it and looked for more. There was another not too far away. I have had some pretty “lucky” days on the trail where my records held to 6 four leaf clovers but this proved to be a drop in the bucket at the end of the rainbow. I was able to find 8 and had to tell myself to stop looking down because every time I did all the regular 3 leaf clovers were a blanket with 4 leaf clovers popping out of them. I swear I could see them clearly, 5 feet away; it was incredible. Of course the beauty of this is I have no idea how much time I spent looking for the clovers. I may have thought they were everywhere but I did move around the humungous patch quite a bit.
All good things must come to an end. I suited up, found another clover as I was leaving and left in on the little rock steps I had had lunch on. It was past noon, the sky was still gray, I was not even half way done.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
So where was I and where did I leave off???
Uuumm, Yes, Washington DC. And we were three heading to Harper's Ferry.
Poncho Bear with his dog College Boy and Chef eased into the day's hike with a little hill of 1,000 feet and then had lunch at the top. College Boy being a dog and all would routinely lay down in large muddy puddles if there was the slightest delay in our step. He was very intrigued by all the new smells and hidden whereabouts so he scampered from left to right, back to front. At the very least we thought all this running would get the ol' College Boy 'dog tired' and it was great entertainment but he kept on running until we got to camp that night where he proudly made his bed under the table.
I was also pleasantly surprised to see a friend of mine, Old Spice, from the very beginning of the trail at our mid-day break. I figured there would be a good possibility of having someone catch up during my time in DC but I did not expect it to happen in the first few hours upon my return.
And so we hiked on, "And my wolf pack, it grew by one. So there... there was 3 of us in the wolf pack. I was alone first in the pack and Poncho and College Boy joined in later. And then Spice Man showed up and we were 4". That last part was adapted from the movie 'The Hangover' but still you get the point and it's a great movie.
Eventually, Poncho Bear was sore and popping a couple aspirin but we had made it to our weekend destination where he and his now tired dog would be picked up. His parents arrived with my resupply and 2 wonderful pizzas accompanied with soda. It was the perfect way to reenter the AT after having spend 10 days in DC lounging in the city, sleeping in a bed and seeing friends. I now know how easy it is to get "soft" and how hard it is to get back to 10hrs of hiking once you have tasted the creature comforts you're so used to.
But, although my wolfpack was down to 2 and College Boy was no longer running head long into the bushes and mud puddles, the transition was made simple so I was not thinking of all the things I would miss but rather all the celebrations lined up for the next 2 weekends. A law school graduation party for my dear friend Melissa along with the announcement of her engagement to Marc in Harrisburg and then reconnecting with my best college friend Joey for his wedding in Pittsburgh (all interspersed with Playoff hockey). My mind was a whirling dervish of past memories, anxious exuberance, and simple contentment in my daydreaming limber locomotion.
I arrived at the famous hostel/bar (or infamous based on how awful you feel when leaving in the morning) in Duncanon named "The Doyle". This is one of the most hiker friendly places on the trail where 20 measly dollars will get you a fine meal, a couple of beers and a crappy room. From my understanding, The Doyle is so notorious for it's "friendly atmosphere" that the decrepit rooms will give you no other choice but to go back down a have half a dozen more beverages. I did not have the pleasure of staying since I was being picked up by Melissa's father, Kevin, but I did enjoy a beer with other hikers while waiting.
Next, Celebration Station.
Poncho Bear with his dog College Boy and Chef eased into the day's hike with a little hill of 1,000 feet and then had lunch at the top. College Boy being a dog and all would routinely lay down in large muddy puddles if there was the slightest delay in our step. He was very intrigued by all the new smells and hidden whereabouts so he scampered from left to right, back to front. At the very least we thought all this running would get the ol' College Boy 'dog tired' and it was great entertainment but he kept on running until we got to camp that night where he proudly made his bed under the table.
I was also pleasantly surprised to see a friend of mine, Old Spice, from the very beginning of the trail at our mid-day break. I figured there would be a good possibility of having someone catch up during my time in DC but I did not expect it to happen in the first few hours upon my return.
And so we hiked on, "And my wolf pack, it grew by one. So there... there was 3 of us in the wolf pack. I was alone first in the pack and Poncho and College Boy joined in later. And then Spice Man showed up and we were 4". That last part was adapted from the movie 'The Hangover' but still you get the point and it's a great movie.
Eventually, Poncho Bear was sore and popping a couple aspirin but we had made it to our weekend destination where he and his now tired dog would be picked up. His parents arrived with my resupply and 2 wonderful pizzas accompanied with soda. It was the perfect way to reenter the AT after having spend 10 days in DC lounging in the city, sleeping in a bed and seeing friends. I now know how easy it is to get "soft" and how hard it is to get back to 10hrs of hiking once you have tasted the creature comforts you're so used to.
But, although my wolfpack was down to 2 and College Boy was no longer running head long into the bushes and mud puddles, the transition was made simple so I was not thinking of all the things I would miss but rather all the celebrations lined up for the next 2 weekends. A law school graduation party for my dear friend Melissa along with the announcement of her engagement to Marc in Harrisburg and then reconnecting with my best college friend Joey for his wedding in Pittsburgh (all interspersed with Playoff hockey). My mind was a whirling dervish of past memories, anxious exuberance, and simple contentment in my daydreaming limber locomotion.
I arrived at the famous hostel/bar (or infamous based on how awful you feel when leaving in the morning) in Duncanon named "The Doyle". This is one of the most hiker friendly places on the trail where 20 measly dollars will get you a fine meal, a couple of beers and a crappy room. From my understanding, The Doyle is so notorious for it's "friendly atmosphere" that the decrepit rooms will give you no other choice but to go back down a have half a dozen more beverages. I did not have the pleasure of staying since I was being picked up by Melissa's father, Kevin, but I did enjoy a beer with other hikers while waiting.
Next, Celebration Station.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
The time has come to put on the gas
It came to pass upon a semi cloudy day (1 of few since it was mostly raining) in a seemingly ghostly town of car-parts-stores and half empty strip malls that I needed to break out of my singularly simply routine of 15 miles a day. I do believe I made up my mind to get through VA a la 'Speedy Gonzalez' so I could watch the NHL playoffs but would have never expected to do an average of 22.5 (don't quote me on those stats). Point being, I arrived to my DC headquarters earlier than expected.
I found myself developing a new daily routine which, greatly aided by the cheap Casio watch to wake me at the first glimmer of dawn, involved a simpler breakfast and faster pack up time. Yes, if you can believe it, I was getting on the trail around 7am as opposed to the usual 9am. Those simple little few hours added a couple miles to my day. I would then hike until dinner time but continue afterwards until sunset.
On the full moon night in April getting very close to Waynesboro, I attempted to break 30 miles for the day but came 1 miles short when clouds rolled in to cover my nite-lite. Not that big of deal since I was in a hotel room and out of the rain the next day.
During this time, I was hiking with Texas Chill, Moses, and Dinnertime but had lost many of the original friends I had started with. I hope to be able to find them again since I have taken a week off in DC. I leave today with my friend Amol and his dog, Cody, with the plan of reaching Harrisburg in a week.
Hanging out in the District was exactly what I needed after pushing myself so hard for 500 miles. I am thankful to all those I have been able to see while here and hope to see those I missed next time around. I will also take the time to update the blog more often (sorry Doug for making you read about Pearisburgh for weeks on end).
Catch you down the trail
I found myself developing a new daily routine which, greatly aided by the cheap Casio watch to wake me at the first glimmer of dawn, involved a simpler breakfast and faster pack up time. Yes, if you can believe it, I was getting on the trail around 7am as opposed to the usual 9am. Those simple little few hours added a couple miles to my day. I would then hike until dinner time but continue afterwards until sunset.
On the full moon night in April getting very close to Waynesboro, I attempted to break 30 miles for the day but came 1 miles short when clouds rolled in to cover my nite-lite. Not that big of deal since I was in a hotel room and out of the rain the next day.
During this time, I was hiking with Texas Chill, Moses, and Dinnertime but had lost many of the original friends I had started with. I hope to be able to find them again since I have taken a week off in DC. I leave today with my friend Amol and his dog, Cody, with the plan of reaching Harrisburg in a week.
Hanging out in the District was exactly what I needed after pushing myself so hard for 500 miles. I am thankful to all those I have been able to see while here and hope to see those I missed next time around. I will also take the time to update the blog more often (sorry Doug for making you read about Pearisburgh for weeks on end).
Catch you down the trail
Thursday, April 30, 2009
In the Burgh...starts with a P but it ain't home to the Pens
So it's Pearisburgh I am in. This is a small town around mile marker 624 which epitimizes the small town sprawl car driving strip mall fast food pick up truck down home USA. But onward with the hiking and ponies.
Yes ponies this time!!! I cannot post pictures now but will soon enough; these ponies were so very used to people they walked up to us. Spring is definitely in the air and everyday brings more blossoms, bright colors--white tree blooms, purple flower sprouts, red bushes bursting, green and greener ferns-- but also the stuffy head of allergies. I have passed through the slopping meadows of Virginia past grazing cows, found some morel mushrooms, made a dandelion salad and passed the 500 mile marker. Things are really cruising now that the weather is warm, if not down right so hot I worked on my hiker tan-hopefully the shoulder straps should stay as lilly white as my bottom.
The weather could not have been better these last few days and although the terrain has been hard, rocky and jagged, I have pushed for close to 20 miles a day in the hopes to reach Washington DC around the 22nd of May.
I came to the realization a day after Damascus that there are quite a few things I would like to do between now and June so I better get a move on. Seeing some friends after being on the trail for so long is a major factor in my "get-your-ass-in-gear-and-hike-til-you-drop" mentality. Although I have met many great people on the trail and have made many friends, there is nothing like chewing the fat with good buddies. I also have a wedding or 2 and a graduation so, unfortunately for me, life does not halt for hikers on the trail.
Seems I am being asked to get off the computer. It is hard to know how every library runs the computer sessions. Until Later.
Yes ponies this time!!! I cannot post pictures now but will soon enough; these ponies were so very used to people they walked up to us. Spring is definitely in the air and everyday brings more blossoms, bright colors--white tree blooms, purple flower sprouts, red bushes bursting, green and greener ferns-- but also the stuffy head of allergies. I have passed through the slopping meadows of Virginia past grazing cows, found some morel mushrooms, made a dandelion salad and passed the 500 mile marker. Things are really cruising now that the weather is warm, if not down right so hot I worked on my hiker tan-hopefully the shoulder straps should stay as lilly white as my bottom.
The weather could not have been better these last few days and although the terrain has been hard, rocky and jagged, I have pushed for close to 20 miles a day in the hopes to reach Washington DC around the 22nd of May.
I came to the realization a day after Damascus that there are quite a few things I would like to do between now and June so I better get a move on. Seeing some friends after being on the trail for so long is a major factor in my "get-your-ass-in-gear-and-hike-til-you-drop" mentality. Although I have met many great people on the trail and have made many friends, there is nothing like chewing the fat with good buddies. I also have a wedding or 2 and a graduation so, unfortunately for me, life does not halt for hikers on the trail.
Seems I am being asked to get off the computer. It is hard to know how every library runs the computer sessions. Until Later.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
The road to Damascus
A great many conversions have come to pass since the beginning of the trip so it is fitting that Damascus is the place where I have found my "hiker legs". Since Erwin TN, I have been able to do many 20 mile days without being completely exhausted at the end of the day; on the way into town I pulled what was later called the "Damascathon" with a ~26 mile day.
Coming out of Erwin and the few days after were harder than I expected, especially since I made myself sick from all the fried food at the AYCE KFC. The weather was again no help in the matter with steady showers and thick fog as we scaled mountain tops accented with blustery wind whipping up from the valley. At one point the rain and my physical fatigue had taken such a toll on my body I did not have the push to scale Roan Mt in the last 3 miles of the day. The climb was too daunting so I found a thicket of pine to wait out the rain and make an early dinner. I fashioned a simple shelter intertwined in the branches out of my Tyvex (a waterproof groundpad) while I ate and listened to the thunderous downpour. Finally arriving to the highest shelter on the AT at 6,200 ft late in the day, I found a house-like establishement with a door and attic where 5 other hikers whom had passed me during the day were neatly tucked into their sleeping bags.
The night was one of the more miserable and damp times I have spend in my sleeping bag as I attempted to dry out some of my clothing with body heat. None of us slept well that night as the temperature dropped so that the morning turned out to be the coldest I have experienced at 30 degrees. It made for some beautiful scenery once I crossed the balds which had been painted white with iced trees and high grass from the cold wind and light rain. The wind was so steady and cold the ice on the grass was jutting out 4 inches.
Later, lower and warmer in the day I was surprised by the huff of wild horses in the fog. At first I thought they would run away so I quickly took my camera out to take pictures and video but they have seen enough hikers to know we are friendly enough to share food and salty enough to lick the pack covers of. What impressive creatures!
A day or two later (cause in between is just more hiking in a cloud), I came to Watauga lake where I spent the day in the sun with a few other hiking buddies, had pizza delivered and jumped in the frigid waters for 30 seconds. Things were looking up, drying out and the afternoon was as relaxing as you could imagine. These are the times when I don't feel like continuing my hike only because the weather is so perfect lounging in the grass without a care in the world seems like the only right thing to do. Still the rambling road calls so staying too long goes against the daily habit.
The trail to Damascus after that was a breeze and the trail does seem to flaten out a bit. It was also nice to see cars with familiar VA license plates upon coming into town. This little town is the home of "Trail Days" which is a yearly hiking festival where many past thru hikers and new ones gather to share stories, gather gear from company reps and reconnect with hiking friends who may have fallen behind or pushed on ahead; it will be held the weekend of May15th this year.
The rolling hills of Virginia are in my sights and the Shennandoah mts were many hikers say 30 mile days are possible will be a welcome change.
Coming out of Erwin and the few days after were harder than I expected, especially since I made myself sick from all the fried food at the AYCE KFC. The weather was again no help in the matter with steady showers and thick fog as we scaled mountain tops accented with blustery wind whipping up from the valley. At one point the rain and my physical fatigue had taken such a toll on my body I did not have the push to scale Roan Mt in the last 3 miles of the day. The climb was too daunting so I found a thicket of pine to wait out the rain and make an early dinner. I fashioned a simple shelter intertwined in the branches out of my Tyvex (a waterproof groundpad) while I ate and listened to the thunderous downpour. Finally arriving to the highest shelter on the AT at 6,200 ft late in the day, I found a house-like establishement with a door and attic where 5 other hikers whom had passed me during the day were neatly tucked into their sleeping bags.
The night was one of the more miserable and damp times I have spend in my sleeping bag as I attempted to dry out some of my clothing with body heat. None of us slept well that night as the temperature dropped so that the morning turned out to be the coldest I have experienced at 30 degrees. It made for some beautiful scenery once I crossed the balds which had been painted white with iced trees and high grass from the cold wind and light rain. The wind was so steady and cold the ice on the grass was jutting out 4 inches.
Later, lower and warmer in the day I was surprised by the huff of wild horses in the fog. At first I thought they would run away so I quickly took my camera out to take pictures and video but they have seen enough hikers to know we are friendly enough to share food and salty enough to lick the pack covers of. What impressive creatures!
A day or two later (cause in between is just more hiking in a cloud), I came to Watauga lake where I spent the day in the sun with a few other hiking buddies, had pizza delivered and jumped in the frigid waters for 30 seconds. Things were looking up, drying out and the afternoon was as relaxing as you could imagine. These are the times when I don't feel like continuing my hike only because the weather is so perfect lounging in the grass without a care in the world seems like the only right thing to do. Still the rambling road calls so staying too long goes against the daily habit.
The trail to Damascus after that was a breeze and the trail does seem to flaten out a bit. It was also nice to see cars with familiar VA license plates upon coming into town. This little town is the home of "Trail Days" which is a yearly hiking festival where many past thru hikers and new ones gather to share stories, gather gear from company reps and reconnect with hiking friends who may have fallen behind or pushed on ahead; it will be held the weekend of May15th this year.
The rolling hills of Virginia are in my sights and the Shennandoah mts were many hikers say 30 mile days are possible will be a welcome change.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
An Easter Sunday Hitch in Erwin TN
Today was a day of stoic patience and understanding. Let me first catch you up on the past few journal entries.
April 9th Day:29 Campsite marker 304.9
Daily miles: 22.2 Weather: sunny 70
Menu: B(breakfast): Poptarts, peanut butter (pb), Granola bar (Gbar), Oatmeal Cream pie (ocp)
Lunch (L): Trail Magic from Hercules- Belgian Waffles, beef stew, black berry poundcake cobblrer with 3 scoops of ice cream, coffee
Dinner(D): Rice and beans, cheese, roll, poptart,ocp
Today was the first 20 mile o moer day. It's 1:30am right now and we just finished a full moon hike that put us over the 300 mile mark. I am not sure if i would have been up for the challenge had it not been for trail magic earlier in the day. Hercules and Fal were so hospitable letting us into their home and catering to our hungry desires by offering us a list of drinks, 3 course meal with dessert and a hug to end it all. Very nice folks!
today also proved to be a day of pranks as Steam(jason) added a can of soup to Tin Man's pack- he will have to carry it 24hrs before handing it off discretly.
I was able to make the 2nd shelter 15.2 miles away in good time so I could make dinner before heading out to our continued 6.8 mi full moon hike. Now I sleep in open air near a neat cluster of tents bordering the trail. The wind blow gently and it is still warm for so late in the night.
April 10 Day: 30 Hogback Ridge Shelter
Daily miles:7.9 Weather: Thunderstorms in the morning and night, sunny day
Menu: B- Poptarts, ocp, gbar,
L- 2 luncheon meat, cheddar, relish, sandwiches, fig newtons, gorp
D- Tuna onion, velvetta shells, mashed potatoes
Woke up to a klittle sprinking which led to a heavy downpour. The night was not too bad for arriving late and not setting up a tent. I flew out of my sleeping bag at the first drop and was packed as fast as a jack rabbit. Getting up so early and rushing around got me real tired and I had to crap. Finally, after a mile when I was drenched, chaffing and at my limit, I came to a road crossing with a good pine tree covering on the side where I was able to take care of business and put on some tights.
Things were looking up!!!
The rest of the day was uneventful do to the fact that I was exhausted and could not move my legs. I did not get to the shelter until 3pm and I think I left around 9:45am. The muddy trail made for slips and slides at every step.
I thought about going on a little furter so i could get to Erwin early on sunday but a new hiker i met, Dinnertime, had his buddy Brian birng lots of goodies and captain Morgan. They like to share! I imagine the evening will wind down with a few nips of rum while listening to the bass of thunder.
April 11th Day 31 No Business Knob Shelter
daily miles: 20.7 Weather: Rainy, 40 fog clear evening
Menu: B-oatmeal (4 packets), pb, apple, ocp, gorp gbar
L- Luncheon meat cheese onion crakcers snickers ocp gorp
D- Alfredo side, sweet and spicy tuna,butterfinger ocp
Did 20 miles again today. Hitting the big mileage is getting to be quite nice. Tomorrow I have an easy 6.3 to Erwin and my plan is to get up as early as possible to grab breakfast in town, go food shopping, hit the internet and watch a movie before heading for the shelter 4.2mi out of town.
I have heard there is an AYCE piza buffet in town. Sounds promising!
I lost Ian and Kendra at the last shelter and I am sure they are about 1 day behind now; they may be getting even further with the high mileage days I am putting in. I really do miss them and hoope to be able to watch a playoff game with them.
Not much else to tell, the hike was muddy but not terribly dreadful for 20 miles. I should sleept since will be getting up at 6am.
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So those are the highlights of the past few days. Things did not go as planned today but I just went with it.
I did not get up at 6am...it was 6:38am.
I got to the hostel around 9am. Dried my stuff out and took a shower. Washed my socks and undies. Then borrowed a bike to head to town but the derailler broke when one of the gears popped off. I stashed the bike in the back of a funeral home and then hitched a ride to the china buffet where I was going to meet some people but that was closed.
There was not All You Can Eat pizza buffet...but I went to a great KFC buffet
The movie theater was closed. So I went food shopping and hitched a ride back to the hostel.
I barely got to the internet.
Now I have to head out the door to make it to the shelter before dark. I still have plenty of time and 2 italian hoagies and a pear in my bag for dinner.
I should be in Damascus where I take a Zero in about 8days. Happy Easter!
April 9th Day:29 Campsite marker 304.9
Daily miles: 22.2 Weather: sunny 70
Menu: B(breakfast): Poptarts, peanut butter (pb), Granola bar (Gbar), Oatmeal Cream pie (ocp)
Lunch (L): Trail Magic from Hercules- Belgian Waffles, beef stew, black berry poundcake cobblrer with 3 scoops of ice cream, coffee
Dinner(D): Rice and beans, cheese, roll, poptart,ocp
Today was the first 20 mile o moer day. It's 1:30am right now and we just finished a full moon hike that put us over the 300 mile mark. I am not sure if i would have been up for the challenge had it not been for trail magic earlier in the day. Hercules and Fal were so hospitable letting us into their home and catering to our hungry desires by offering us a list of drinks, 3 course meal with dessert and a hug to end it all. Very nice folks!
today also proved to be a day of pranks as Steam(jason) added a can of soup to Tin Man's pack- he will have to carry it 24hrs before handing it off discretly.
I was able to make the 2nd shelter 15.2 miles away in good time so I could make dinner before heading out to our continued 6.8 mi full moon hike. Now I sleep in open air near a neat cluster of tents bordering the trail. The wind blow gently and it is still warm for so late in the night.
April 10 Day: 30 Hogback Ridge Shelter
Daily miles:7.9 Weather: Thunderstorms in the morning and night, sunny day
Menu: B- Poptarts, ocp, gbar,
L- 2 luncheon meat, cheddar, relish, sandwiches, fig newtons, gorp
D- Tuna onion, velvetta shells, mashed potatoes
Woke up to a klittle sprinking which led to a heavy downpour. The night was not too bad for arriving late and not setting up a tent. I flew out of my sleeping bag at the first drop and was packed as fast as a jack rabbit. Getting up so early and rushing around got me real tired and I had to crap. Finally, after a mile when I was drenched, chaffing and at my limit, I came to a road crossing with a good pine tree covering on the side where I was able to take care of business and put on some tights.
Things were looking up!!!
The rest of the day was uneventful do to the fact that I was exhausted and could not move my legs. I did not get to the shelter until 3pm and I think I left around 9:45am. The muddy trail made for slips and slides at every step.
I thought about going on a little furter so i could get to Erwin early on sunday but a new hiker i met, Dinnertime, had his buddy Brian birng lots of goodies and captain Morgan. They like to share! I imagine the evening will wind down with a few nips of rum while listening to the bass of thunder.
April 11th Day 31 No Business Knob Shelter
daily miles: 20.7 Weather: Rainy, 40 fog clear evening
Menu: B-oatmeal (4 packets), pb, apple, ocp, gorp gbar
L- Luncheon meat cheese onion crakcers snickers ocp gorp
D- Alfredo side, sweet and spicy tuna,butterfinger ocp
Did 20 miles again today. Hitting the big mileage is getting to be quite nice. Tomorrow I have an easy 6.3 to Erwin and my plan is to get up as early as possible to grab breakfast in town, go food shopping, hit the internet and watch a movie before heading for the shelter 4.2mi out of town.
I have heard there is an AYCE piza buffet in town. Sounds promising!
I lost Ian and Kendra at the last shelter and I am sure they are about 1 day behind now; they may be getting even further with the high mileage days I am putting in. I really do miss them and hoope to be able to watch a playoff game with them.
Not much else to tell, the hike was muddy but not terribly dreadful for 20 miles. I should sleept since will be getting up at 6am.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So those are the highlights of the past few days. Things did not go as planned today but I just went with it.
I did not get up at 6am...it was 6:38am.
I got to the hostel around 9am. Dried my stuff out and took a shower. Washed my socks and undies. Then borrowed a bike to head to town but the derailler broke when one of the gears popped off. I stashed the bike in the back of a funeral home and then hitched a ride to the china buffet where I was going to meet some people but that was closed.
There was not All You Can Eat pizza buffet...but I went to a great KFC buffet
The movie theater was closed. So I went food shopping and hitched a ride back to the hostel.
I barely got to the internet.
Now I have to head out the door to make it to the shelter before dark. I still have plenty of time and 2 italian hoagies and a pear in my bag for dinner.
I should be in Damascus where I take a Zero in about 8days. Happy Easter!
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
The Great Smoky National Forest and beyond
So once again I am racing for time on the computer in a small town. Hot Springs NC is about .6 milles long with one main road and no stop lights. It's name was 'Warm Springs' until 1886 when someone decided "hot" was a better descriptive adjective of the mineral springs running under the town; tepid was rejected get go. I have soaked twice in these hot spring jacuzzis and already feel much better about the arduous trek from the Smokies.
Heading out the first day was a beautiful sunny day and I even saw a wild turkey on the path. What a great way to start. The second day showed to be blustery and cold with fog clouds but the higher into the mountain the worse the weather. Gust were pushing me sideways so I had to stick my pole almost perpendicular to the trail in order not the be blown over. What a day that was! Stabilizer muscles were hurting.
After that the rest is a cloud. I got to Clingman's Dome but only saw the deep white cover of nothingness. The Smokies were showing me who was the boss. I talked to a section hiker who told me the forest gets only 4 inches of rain less than a rain forest a year so it's not surprising to be hit with such moisture. At this point 3 days of rain was beginning to get to me. Everyone was ready to get down to sunshine because the ridge and mountain tops were engulfed in clouds.
Once at the bottom, the weather was better but my body was beat. It had been 7 days since I have had a real meal, showered, or even slept in my tent (the Smokies require everyone to sleep in the shelters to minimize the impact on wildlife. As you can imagine, it gets rather stuffy and clutered when 15 hikers take cover from the rain.) After not sleeping very well for some days and already having a late start to the day, I booked it to Max Patch which gives a full 360 degree view, including the Great Smokey Mtns. The hike was harder and longer than I expected but once up there it was quite worth having lunch there. The second part of the hike that day took it out of me. Mr. Right said he felt sorry for me once I arrived at camp. Wow! I must have looked like a bag of smashed assholes after 8 days on the trail.
The next day was Hot Springs and nothing could have stopped me. I took a zero and enjoyed every bit of it. Now I have to go because the library is closing. Thanks for your kind words.
Heading out the first day was a beautiful sunny day and I even saw a wild turkey on the path. What a great way to start. The second day showed to be blustery and cold with fog clouds but the higher into the mountain the worse the weather. Gust were pushing me sideways so I had to stick my pole almost perpendicular to the trail in order not the be blown over. What a day that was! Stabilizer muscles were hurting.
After that the rest is a cloud. I got to Clingman's Dome but only saw the deep white cover of nothingness. The Smokies were showing me who was the boss. I talked to a section hiker who told me the forest gets only 4 inches of rain less than a rain forest a year so it's not surprising to be hit with such moisture. At this point 3 days of rain was beginning to get to me. Everyone was ready to get down to sunshine because the ridge and mountain tops were engulfed in clouds.
Once at the bottom, the weather was better but my body was beat. It had been 7 days since I have had a real meal, showered, or even slept in my tent (the Smokies require everyone to sleep in the shelters to minimize the impact on wildlife. As you can imagine, it gets rather stuffy and clutered when 15 hikers take cover from the rain.) After not sleeping very well for some days and already having a late start to the day, I booked it to Max Patch which gives a full 360 degree view, including the Great Smokey Mtns. The hike was harder and longer than I expected but once up there it was quite worth having lunch there. The second part of the hike that day took it out of me. Mr. Right said he felt sorry for me once I arrived at camp. Wow! I must have looked like a bag of smashed assholes after 8 days on the trail.
The next day was Hot Springs and nothing could have stopped me. I took a zero and enjoyed every bit of it. Now I have to go because the library is closing. Thanks for your kind words.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Fontana Village and the Hilton Shelter
The Smokies are looming in the distance but I have imposed a "Weather Zero" so that I can see the views. While in waiting I have had the fortunate pleasure of staying in one of the best shelters on the trail. Dubbed the 'Fontana Hilton Shelter', it boasts a shower a few hundred feet away and a water fountain just a few steps from the cooking table. To topper is that a few past hikers came by with some trail magic of hot dogs, cookies, root beer and Pabst, just to keep it classy.
About 2 miles away is the Fontana Dam which is the largest dam of the eastern U.S. At the bottom of the hill is a little gas station which has the strangest combination of gasoline, beer on tap and nachos at a full bar. I have never had better gas station food!
Unfortunately, I don't have the writing bug today. It is too bad since I have a pretty good spot at the computer. I am more interested in watching some hockey highlights. I am sure there will be many great stories to tell once I have crossed the Smokies.
Keeping up the trail
***Update***
After I signed off at Fontana, I found out the front desk lends out frisbee for the very big and challenging course they have. I got a few snacks and drinks to head out into a great afternoon of Frolf.
About 2 miles away is the Fontana Dam which is the largest dam of the eastern U.S. At the bottom of the hill is a little gas station which has the strangest combination of gasoline, beer on tap and nachos at a full bar. I have never had better gas station food!
Unfortunately, I don't have the writing bug today. It is too bad since I have a pretty good spot at the computer. I am more interested in watching some hockey highlights. I am sure there will be many great stories to tell once I have crossed the Smokies.
Keeping up the trail
***Update***
After I signed off at Fontana, I found out the front desk lends out frisbee for the very big and challenging course they have. I got a few snacks and drinks to head out into a great afternoon of Frolf.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
heading into the Smokies
Hello all,
I find myself at a very nice resort in Fontana Dam awaiting the weather to clear so that I can fully appreciate the Smoky Mountains and their views. I have come out of the rain and soon will be taking a shower to finally fully clean off. There is only one computer in the lobby of the lodge but I will make sure to come back to tell a story or two. Some other hikers are in waiting and I don't want to bogart the virtual world. I will also be able to post pictures this evening.
Until later.
I find myself at a very nice resort in Fontana Dam awaiting the weather to clear so that I can fully appreciate the Smoky Mountains and their views. I have come out of the rain and soon will be taking a shower to finally fully clean off. There is only one computer in the lobby of the lodge but I will make sure to come back to tell a story or two. Some other hikers are in waiting and I don't want to bogart the virtual world. I will also be able to post pictures this evening.
Until later.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Made the 100 mile mark
And I didn't even know it. It was a little stream were I sat for a spell and had a cool drink of water. The days are melting together so much that many times I have to really think hard about what the date is and even more so about the actual day of the week. I believe this was yesterday!??!
Since Hiawassee, some of the "Dream Team" has fallen behind mainly because we have been doing 12 mile days: Bison on the first day; Rusty, Goof and Flossing Bison (Chris) on the second. I bet 2 poptarts either 1 of them would catch up and make it to camp. I have yet to know the results.
Another phenomenon of the trail are the registers placed at every shelter. These detail the travels of the hikers who pass through with as little or as much detail as one could imagine. It has become my bible (King James bibles are abundant as well) and I enjoy taking a break during the day to read the entries of hikers I have met and of those whose names I have heard of from passing hikers. I slowly get to know others still whom are a few days ahead, whom I have not met but whose entries catch my eye.
I just spend the night in Franklin on an impromptu dash into town. Ian and Kendra (from here on in Iken) and I were pushing forward a bit looking for a campsite since the shelter was far too crowded for anyone to be comfortable; one guy seemed happy to be able to sleep on the table. We came to a road crossing when a little red pickup pulled up and told us he was taking someone into town already. Well, we jumped in the back and split a hotel room, load of laundry and pizza. Showers were seperate and individual.
I don't have much time to write this morning because I want to run to Kmart to get some cheap walking poles(they really do make a huge difference) and a bag liner to keep warm in the Smokies. The next town I hit is Fontana Dam about 50 miles away. That town will be the last point of revitalization before heading into the unpredictable and capricious Tennesse Smokie mountains. The elevation will be the highest I have climbed at more than 6,000 ft.
Onwards and Upwards.
Since Hiawassee, some of the "Dream Team" has fallen behind mainly because we have been doing 12 mile days: Bison on the first day; Rusty, Goof and Flossing Bison (Chris) on the second. I bet 2 poptarts either 1 of them would catch up and make it to camp. I have yet to know the results.
Another phenomenon of the trail are the registers placed at every shelter. These detail the travels of the hikers who pass through with as little or as much detail as one could imagine. It has become my bible (King James bibles are abundant as well) and I enjoy taking a break during the day to read the entries of hikers I have met and of those whose names I have heard of from passing hikers. I slowly get to know others still whom are a few days ahead, whom I have not met but whose entries catch my eye.
I just spend the night in Franklin on an impromptu dash into town. Ian and Kendra (from here on in Iken) and I were pushing forward a bit looking for a campsite since the shelter was far too crowded for anyone to be comfortable; one guy seemed happy to be able to sleep on the table. We came to a road crossing when a little red pickup pulled up and told us he was taking someone into town already. Well, we jumped in the back and split a hotel room, load of laundry and pizza. Showers were seperate and individual.
I don't have much time to write this morning because I want to run to Kmart to get some cheap walking poles(they really do make a huge difference) and a bag liner to keep warm in the Smokies. The next town I hit is Fontana Dam about 50 miles away. That town will be the last point of revitalization before heading into the unpredictable and capricious Tennesse Smokie mountains. The elevation will be the highest I have climbed at more than 6,000 ft.
Onwards and Upwards.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
67 Miles into the Trail
8 days on the trail has brought me to a town called Hiawassee which is small but has all the amenities a hiker could ask for. Yesterday we showered and had an All You Can Eat (AYCE) chinese buffet. But let me catch up some of the details.
It is strange the transition you go through when taking on a long voyage of this sort with others whom you do not know, yet hold so much in common with. The first days were more about getting through the day with as little pain as possible and getting to the water source. I was still concerned with not letting others know where I was traveling as the AT guide had recommended. However, a few days of rain and close quarters will do wonders in getting to know someone ASAP.
As you will notice by the pictures, there are a few days of complete fog and rain. This was a trying time for everyone but seems to have solidified a group of us into a team. The players are Goof, Bison, Rusty, Mr. Right and Crybaby Spiderman, Jolly Ranger, Weatherguy, hightop and Ian and Kendra (they don't have or want a trail name but will probably get one anyway). I have been dubbed Chef Whiteshoe for my culinary expertise (basically adding dried mushrooms to Ramen noodles) and white shoes I wear in camp.
Unfortunately, I only have a few minutes to finish this part of the blog since my library session is only 1 hour. I have been able to add some photos and thank Matt for posting the shots he took of me on that first day. I will attempt to come back again today to add more about the fine characters I have met and travel with so far. One quick example: Backyard Boogie- a retired truck driver who could tell you everything you would want to know about the trail but didn't know to ask. He did it in '07 with plenty of time (Jan to Oct), plenty of money ($15,000) and plenty of good times. He had sayings like "they will hand you a hamburger the size of a '58 Cadillac hubcap...it's so good you'll want to smack you momma".
Seems I can extend my time. Let me just say the first few days were quite hard and since the weather was so poor the vistas were covered so in a way the days went by quickly. There was not much to see and morale was not very high. It was at the Walasily Hostel and outfitters where morale, hiking bonds and great advise help spurt the following leg. I was able to get a shake down on my pack to see how to reduce weight and also purchase a new bag since the one I had was quite old and not fit for the trip. I listed the places the bag had traveled (Quito, Machu Pichu, Galapagos islands, Cambodia and Thailand) so it could be placed in the rafters to be immortalized with other bags and random hiking materials. I am now down to about 38lbs as opposed to 50lbs at the start of the trip.
The day at the hostel was gave a chance to dry out, clean up and get ready for more. Dinner and breakfast were served by Pirate the in-house keeper who also served bloddy mary's at 8am since it was Sunday. He was quite a trip. Has thru hiked for the past 21 years. Doesn't purify his water. Eats bacon and eggs and "real food, not that hiker crap". Carries a pack of nearly 60lbs. He also looks like a pirate.
When we set off the following day, a dog from the hostel began following us. He arrived at camp but never begged for food, bothered anyone or was in the least way aggressive. Since we thought he was from the hostel, we did not feed him so he would return to his master and home. It was only ofter the second day when someone finally called the hostel that we found out he was not theirs and sadly abandonned on the trail. His rear paws were getting raw in between the pads and beneath his thick winter coat, Bear as we named him, was actually quite skinny. We fed him what we could at that point and hoped he would find his way.
That night at the shelter was miserable. The shelter was so crowded I slept in my hamock so others would have room on the floor, the wind was cold, morale was down ( I did not really talk much that day), and everything was wet.
The following day the sun finally shone through the clouds and all of us were in better spirits. Nothing could have prepared us for the next bit of luck (Luck of the Irish you could say since it was St. Patrick's day) when a huge pick up truck pulled up from the road as we were about to head up the trail. Linda and Dwayne popped out of the truck, unloaded a BBQ and promptly told us to hang on because they were going to have burgers ready in a 1/2 hour. Trail Magic at it's best. We feasted on potato salad, pea salad, brownies, doughnuts, sweet tea and OJ until our bellies were happy. It's incredible the amount of food you can consume while hiking. I am always hungry.
Dwayne and Linda like to do trail magic because they follow the trail journals of the hikers they meet. You can find Bison's trail journal at http://www.trailjournals.com/entry.cfm?trailname=8329. He is ex military and very detailed oriented. He also has been planning the AT hike for a long time and has read trail journals for 10years so knows how this story telling takes shape. (Side note: Dwayne took Bear to an animal shelter. Those two really are magic)
This pretty much takes us to to the current news. I am taking a 'Zero day' which means I do not miles on the trail so I can catch up on internet, go food shopping and eat as much as I can. You will hate me for the diet I have which is basically poptarts, candy bars, noodles, rice, chocolate, chips, and anything with a high caloric count. All that fat stuff you avoid is exactly what I go for.
The next town I head into is Franklin which is about 4-5 days aways (50 miles). I am happy to hike with everyone but know I will eventually have to go on ahead. I am finding my hiking legs and eventhough I am the last to leave in the morning, I am usually the first to arrive. Although I have already seen some hiking friends press on and I am about to do the same, I know we will meet up again down the trail.
It is strange the transition you go through when taking on a long voyage of this sort with others whom you do not know, yet hold so much in common with. The first days were more about getting through the day with as little pain as possible and getting to the water source. I was still concerned with not letting others know where I was traveling as the AT guide had recommended. However, a few days of rain and close quarters will do wonders in getting to know someone ASAP.
As you will notice by the pictures, there are a few days of complete fog and rain. This was a trying time for everyone but seems to have solidified a group of us into a team. The players are Goof, Bison, Rusty, Mr. Right and Crybaby Spiderman, Jolly Ranger, Weatherguy, hightop and Ian and Kendra (they don't have or want a trail name but will probably get one anyway). I have been dubbed Chef Whiteshoe for my culinary expertise (basically adding dried mushrooms to Ramen noodles) and white shoes I wear in camp.
Unfortunately, I only have a few minutes to finish this part of the blog since my library session is only 1 hour. I have been able to add some photos and thank Matt for posting the shots he took of me on that first day. I will attempt to come back again today to add more about the fine characters I have met and travel with so far. One quick example: Backyard Boogie- a retired truck driver who could tell you everything you would want to know about the trail but didn't know to ask. He did it in '07 with plenty of time (Jan to Oct), plenty of money ($15,000) and plenty of good times. He had sayings like "they will hand you a hamburger the size of a '58 Cadillac hubcap...it's so good you'll want to smack you momma".
Seems I can extend my time. Let me just say the first few days were quite hard and since the weather was so poor the vistas were covered so in a way the days went by quickly. There was not much to see and morale was not very high. It was at the Walasily Hostel and outfitters where morale, hiking bonds and great advise help spurt the following leg. I was able to get a shake down on my pack to see how to reduce weight and also purchase a new bag since the one I had was quite old and not fit for the trip. I listed the places the bag had traveled (Quito, Machu Pichu, Galapagos islands, Cambodia and Thailand) so it could be placed in the rafters to be immortalized with other bags and random hiking materials. I am now down to about 38lbs as opposed to 50lbs at the start of the trip.
The day at the hostel was gave a chance to dry out, clean up and get ready for more. Dinner and breakfast were served by Pirate the in-house keeper who also served bloddy mary's at 8am since it was Sunday. He was quite a trip. Has thru hiked for the past 21 years. Doesn't purify his water. Eats bacon and eggs and "real food, not that hiker crap". Carries a pack of nearly 60lbs. He also looks like a pirate.
When we set off the following day, a dog from the hostel began following us. He arrived at camp but never begged for food, bothered anyone or was in the least way aggressive. Since we thought he was from the hostel, we did not feed him so he would return to his master and home. It was only ofter the second day when someone finally called the hostel that we found out he was not theirs and sadly abandonned on the trail. His rear paws were getting raw in between the pads and beneath his thick winter coat, Bear as we named him, was actually quite skinny. We fed him what we could at that point and hoped he would find his way.
That night at the shelter was miserable. The shelter was so crowded I slept in my hamock so others would have room on the floor, the wind was cold, morale was down ( I did not really talk much that day), and everything was wet.
The following day the sun finally shone through the clouds and all of us were in better spirits. Nothing could have prepared us for the next bit of luck (Luck of the Irish you could say since it was St. Patrick's day) when a huge pick up truck pulled up from the road as we were about to head up the trail. Linda and Dwayne popped out of the truck, unloaded a BBQ and promptly told us to hang on because they were going to have burgers ready in a 1/2 hour. Trail Magic at it's best. We feasted on potato salad, pea salad, brownies, doughnuts, sweet tea and OJ until our bellies were happy. It's incredible the amount of food you can consume while hiking. I am always hungry.
Dwayne and Linda like to do trail magic because they follow the trail journals of the hikers they meet. You can find Bison's trail journal at http://www.trailjournals.com/entry.cfm?trailname=8329. He is ex military and very detailed oriented. He also has been planning the AT hike for a long time and has read trail journals for 10years so knows how this story telling takes shape. (Side note: Dwayne took Bear to an animal shelter. Those two really are magic)
This pretty much takes us to to the current news. I am taking a 'Zero day' which means I do not miles on the trail so I can catch up on internet, go food shopping and eat as much as I can. You will hate me for the diet I have which is basically poptarts, candy bars, noodles, rice, chocolate, chips, and anything with a high caloric count. All that fat stuff you avoid is exactly what I go for.
The next town I head into is Franklin which is about 4-5 days aways (50 miles). I am happy to hike with everyone but know I will eventually have to go on ahead. I am finding my hiking legs and eventhough I am the last to leave in the morning, I am usually the first to arrive. Although I have already seen some hiking friends press on and I am about to do the same, I know we will meet up again down the trail.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
A trail by the Moonlight
I leave this afternoon for the trail head. It has been some time coming and, I am remiss to say, the excitement level has not boiled over. I am just happy to begin. A few weeks ago when the planning was approaching its final stages, my head was swirling with thoughts until the deep hours of night. Now I am calm and ready; upon hearing of my restless sleep my grandmother wrote, "Dear Child, I can understand your impatience but know that the best part of the trip is prepraration, since you have the time to dream, to plan and to change what you would like; Go to Sleep! (Cher enfant, je comprends ton impatience à partir, mais sache que c'est le meilleur du voyage de le préparer, car on a le temps d'en rêver et de planifier et de changer dans la tête plein de trucs, endors toi)". Merci.
The few days I have been able to spend with my friends outside of Atlanta have been a strange and welcome contrast to my own journey. Matt and Nadine's newly purchased house leads them to dream of their future, to plan 101 home repairs and change a stranger's house into their home. We painted over walls that were not completely theirs until the final coat of paint had dried; took out carpets in order to place hardwood flooring so their first steps would be fresh.
While they accumulate I try to shed all but my necessary gear. I look forward to the moments, I look forward to not having to ask 'why?', to just doing something without a defined goal, to accomplishing an arduous task and to having a simple defined purpose...getting from one point to another. Everything got so topsy turvey in the last 6 months, I just want to slow it down; not think too much.
I leave you for now but know I have eaten as much fine Georgia BBQ as my body could handle and my feet are in good shape. Matt found a pre-owned walking stick when we went to the park on Monday; we came to that conclusion by the hand worn smooth finish on the handle and snub nose tip. I have enough food for 5 days and the weather is "A Georgia Peach".
The few days I have been able to spend with my friends outside of Atlanta have been a strange and welcome contrast to my own journey. Matt and Nadine's newly purchased house leads them to dream of their future, to plan 101 home repairs and change a stranger's house into their home. We painted over walls that were not completely theirs until the final coat of paint had dried; took out carpets in order to place hardwood flooring so their first steps would be fresh.
While they accumulate I try to shed all but my necessary gear. I look forward to the moments, I look forward to not having to ask 'why?', to just doing something without a defined goal, to accomplishing an arduous task and to having a simple defined purpose...getting from one point to another. Everything got so topsy turvey in the last 6 months, I just want to slow it down; not think too much.
I leave you for now but know I have eaten as much fine Georgia BBQ as my body could handle and my feet are in good shape. Matt found a pre-owned walking stick when we went to the park on Monday; we came to that conclusion by the hand worn smooth finish on the handle and snub nose tip. I have enough food for 5 days and the weather is "A Georgia Peach".
Friday, February 27, 2009
Gear
I have added pictures of all the gear I am taking. Although I don't have much the whole pack weighs around 40lbs which is freakin' heavy. I wish I could take less but then I would have to go without sleeping bag, a (only 1) change of clothes, or water. Basically, I have trimmed it down as much as I can, yet it still seems like a lot.
Getting in shape for this trip has been an issue since I have lost my daily biking and hockey habit. Truth be told, I've not put much effort into attempting to exercise other than skating around a few times mainly because I felt like a fatty after consuming delicious poutine (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poutine). But that all changed yesterday when I donned the full weight of the backpack in order to exercise like a good city dweller...I walked up and down the 16 flights of stairs 4 times. Not sure how many steps that is but it's enough to make my legs shaky and sore. Today I must do 5 times and I'll remember to count the steps. (3hrs later: 352 steps)
I will heading off to Atlanta in a few days in order to begin. Until then.
Getting in shape for this trip has been an issue since I have lost my daily biking and hockey habit. Truth be told, I've not put much effort into attempting to exercise other than skating around a few times mainly because I felt like a fatty after consuming delicious poutine (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poutine). But that all changed yesterday when I donned the full weight of the backpack in order to exercise like a good city dweller...I walked up and down the 16 flights of stairs 4 times. Not sure how many steps that is but it's enough to make my legs shaky and sore. Today I must do 5 times and I'll remember to count the steps. (3hrs later: 352 steps)
I will heading off to Atlanta in a few days in order to begin. Until then.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Hiking Tracking
Going into the wild for an extended period of time requires some planning, as you would imagine. Luckily, the internet leads the virtual finger past mountains of information which can be flipped through with ease; anything from maps ( http://rhodesmill.org/thefox/maps.html), trail data, nutrition, biography of John Muir and general hiking tid-bits to help compose a formidable hiking plan.
This is a general outline of the trip for the month of March:
All of the shelters and towns can be found with this link (http://www.cs.utk.edu/~dunigan/at/googleat.php?lat=45.88165&lon=-68.99569&scale=6). Just scroll over the points and find the respective mileage for the location. I should be around there somewhere.
Next up, gear.
This is a general outline of the trip for the month of March:
| Daily average based on 18mi per day | ||||||||||
| C-Campground H-Hostel O-Outfitter M-Meals G-Grocery L-Lodging PO-Post Office cl-coin laundry sh-shower f-fuel @-Internet S-shelter w-water V-veterinarian m-miles D-doctor | ||||||||||
| Day | ETA | Destination | Cum mi | Daily mi | Extra mi | Avg mi | Elev | Sun Rise | Sun Set | Services |
| S1 | 1-Mar-09 | Start Mt Springer | 0 |
|
|
| 3730 | 7:06 | 18:33 |
|
| 2 | 2-Mar-09 | Sassafrass Mtn | 11.2 | 11.2 | -6.8 | 11.20 | 3300 |
|
|
|
| 3 | 3-Mar-09 | Rt 60 | 20.1 | 8.9 | -9.1 | 10.05 | 3150 |
|
| W2m-POGCDclshf |
| 4 | 4-Mar-09 | Neel's Gap | 30.7 | 10.6 | -7.4 | 10.23 | 3125 |
|
|
|
| 5 | 5-Mar-09 | Poplar Stamp | 42.9 | 12.2 | -5.8 | 10.73 | 2990 |
|
| C,w |
| 6 | 6-Mar-09 | Cheese Factory | 54.5 | 11.6 | -6.4 | 10.90 | 3580 |
|
| C,w |
| 7 | 7-Mar-09 | Hiawassee | 67.5 | 13 | -5 | 11.25 | 2675 |
|
| W3.5-H,f,cl,11m PO,G,sh,@ |
| S8 | 8-Mar-09 | Deep Gap | 83.2 | 15.7 | -2.3 | 11.89 | 4341 |
|
| w W3.7m-C,G,sh |
| 9 | 9-Mar-09 | Glassmine Gap | 101.3 | 18.1 | 0.1 | 12.66 | 4160 | 7:57 | 19:39 |
|
| 10 | 10-Mar-09 | Burningtown Gap | 122.2 | 20.9 | 2.9 | 13.58 | 4235 |
|
| w W10 PO,G,cl,@f |
| 11 | 11-Mar-09 | NOC | 135 | 12.8 | -5.2 | 13.50 | 1740 |
| Full Moon | G,L,O,M,cl,sh,l E1m-C,G,L |
| 12 | 12-Mar-09 | Cable Gap Shelter | 157 | 22 | 4 | 14.27 | 2980 |
|
| S,w |
| 12 | 13-Mar-09 | Devil's Tater Patch | 175 | 18 | 0 | 14.58 | 4775 |
|
|
|
| 13 | 14-Mar-09 | Clingman's Dome | 196.3 | 21.3 | 3.3 | 17.04 | 6643 |
|
| E.5-R,w |
| 14 | 15-Mar-09 | Peck's Corner | 215 | 18.7 | 0.7 | 15.36 | 5280 |
|
| w |
| S15 | 16-Mar-09 | Green Corner | 238.3 | 23.3 | 5.3 | 15.89 | 1800 | 7:48 | 19:44 | W.1-G,sh,cl,@,f |
| 16 | 17-Mar-09 | Walnnut Mtn Shlt | 258.7 | 20.4 | 2.4 | 16.17 | 4260 |
|
| S,w |
| 17 | 18-Mar-09 | Hot Springs | 271.7 | 13 | -5 | 15.98 | 2171 |
|
| PO,G,H,cl,sh,f,@ |
| 18 | 19-Mar-09 |
|
| 0 Day | 0 | 15.98 |
|
|
|
|
| 19 | 20-Mar-09 | Little Laurel Shlt | 291.3 | 19.6 | 1.6 | 16.18 | 3620 |
|
| S,w |
| 20 | 21-Mar-09 | Hogback Ridge Shlt | 312.8 | 21.5 | 3.5 | 16.46 | 4255 |
|
| S,w |
| 21 | 22-Mar-09 | Sping | 333.3 | 20.5 | 2.5 | 16.67 | 3300 |
|
| w |
| S22 | 23-Mar-09 | Erwin | 339.8 | 6.5 | -12 | 16.18 | 1700 | 7:39 | 19:50 | H,C,O,cl,f,@W3m-PO,G,H, D,cl,sh,f,@ |
| 23 | 24-Mar-09 | Greasy Creek | 365 | 25.2 | 7.2 | 16.59 | 4400 |
|
| E.6- G,C,sh,f,@,M |
| 24 | 25-Mar-09 | Doll Flats | 383.6 | 18.6 | 0.6 | 16.68 | 4600 |
|
| C,w |
| 25 | 26-Mar-09 | Campsite | 403 | 19.4 | 1.4 | 16.79 | 3420 |
|
| C,w |
| 26 | 27-Mar-09 | Candervetner Shlt | 428.4 | 25.4 | 7.4 | 17.14 | 3620 |
| New Moon | S,w |
| 27 | 28-Mar-09 | Shady Valley, Tn | 446.3 | 17.9 | -0.1 | 17.17 | 3384 |
|
| E2.7- PO,C,G,M,f |
| 28 | 29-Mar-09 | Damascus | 461.1 | 14.8 | -3.2 | 17.08 | 1928 |
|
| PO,H, G,L,M,O,D,cl,sh,@,f |
| S29 | 30-Mar-09 |
|
| 0 Day | 0 | 17.08 |
| 7:29 | 19:55 |
|
| 30 | 31-Mar-09 | Buzzard Rock | 481.7 | 20.6 | 2.6 | 17.20 | 5080 |
|
|
|
|
|
| Total Extra mi |
|
| -22 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Avg mi for month |
| 17.1 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
All of the shelters and towns can be found with this link (http://www.cs.utk.edu/~dunigan/at/googleat.php?lat=45.88165&lon=-68.99569&scale=6). Just scroll over the points and find the respective mileage for the location. I should be around there somewhere.
Next up, gear.
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