AT Slideshow

Description:

Shots from my 2008 thru-hike. Most taken by myself, others were donated by friends I hiked with (namely, Enoch, EZ-Does It, Snap, and Sprout) to fill in gaps where I neglected to dig out my camera.

Music: Doobie Brothers "China Grove"
My Morning Jacket "I'm Amazed"
Rusted Root "Free My Soul"
Old Crow Medicine Show "Wagon Wheel"
The Who "My Generation"
Genesis "I Can't Dance"
Sheryl Crow "Love Is Free"
Bedouin Soundclash "When the Night Feels My Song"
Chris Knight "Go On Home"

Millinocket, ME

The morning dawned a cloudy day, yet almost balmy compared to the frigid mornings these few days past. Up early, with only day-packs, we climbed quickly up into those clouds. Seeing nothing but the rocks immediately surrounding us, we made our final ascent to that coveted peak, that longed-for symbol of completion: a weathered wooden sign standing awkwardly upon the boulders. There was no impediment in our minds, nor any distraction in our eyes, for there was nothing else to look at, nothing else to see. There was only a contracted world shrouded in fog but bursting with the bright glory of success. The chill, damp wind kept our celebrations shorter than one might have expected after so long a time spent in effort and anticipation, but our shouts and laughter were no less for it. We howled louder than the wind could, stood stronger than the mountain itself, for we were here; we had come to Katahdin as to a holy mountain and were found worthy by all the tests the long oddessey of the trail could throw at us. We each took our turn before the sign, standing above or kneeling before it, awash in a brew of emotions that no words nor even any tears could begin to express. We hardly understood them, knowing that time would take care of that; right then, it didn't matter. What mattered was that we were there. We were done. We were thru-hikers at last.

Monson, ME

One sunny spring day, which now seems so long ago, I took my first steps on the approach trail leading to the AT, beginning what would be a true oddeyssy of body, mind and spirit. It is over 2000 miles later, and I've made it to the final trail-town and resupply point: Monson, the doorstep of the hundred-mile wilderness. This will be my last entry until after I have summited Katahdin and become an official 2008 thru-hiker. How exciting!

Since my last entry in Andover, things have been going well. The terrain became significantly easier, and we continued having pretty good weather. We survived the remnants of Hannah quite easily; it rained steady all night, then stopped just after dawn, didn't even get wet. We did get soaked pretty bad the other day when the cold front moved through; cold indeed... the temperatures took a serious drop last night. This morning was frigid and it was hard to get out of the sleeping bag. Especially knowing we had a river to ford in just over 2 miles of easy terrain. But it wasn't too deep, and the freezing water had a rather invigorating effect more than anything. It's only the second ford so far (water levels have been low enough to rock-hop the rest) but I'm coming to enjoy them. Feels more adventurous, I guess. And anyways, I keep reminding myself that the discomforts never last. 20 minutes after we set out this morning, I was sweating.

Looking back at my previous entries, I see some real negetivity. I also see that it looks like I'm sort of dreading the end of this trek. Neither are true reflections of how I feel. For the first, I'm enjoying every day of this hike, only occasionally having hard days, usually just hard hours or minutes. Like I said, the discomforts are fleeting and the satisfactions of the trail are always there waiting; like the sun behind the clouds, it never stops shining even if I don't see it. As to the second, well, there are some things I'll hate to leave behind, but there are also reasons I'm happy it's almost over.

Things I'll miss: All my friends I met on the trail, especially my crew: Enoch, K-Bomb, and Orangedust (and her dog Bea), but also Neon, CC Rider, Freefall, Wookie, Mike, Old Buzzard, and many others. The open hours to do nothing but walk and think my own thoughts, uninfluenced by news, books, or anything else. The forest's peace, the mountains' beauty. Natural light and natural daily rhythms. Not having a job. Sitting on some mountain just enjoying the silence. Seeing moose (saw 2 a week ago, about 15 minutes apart) and other wildlife, even if only occasionally. The self-sufficiency and simplicity in that all I need is carried on my back. The best tasting water ever, free and flowing.

Reasons I want to finish: Seeing my parents, sister, and friends back home. All my music. Not having to hoist my broken, ill-fitting pack again and tackle what is often just ridiculous trail. Riding my bike. My body is tired of hiking. No more staring at trees all day. No more staring at trail all day. Gaining some weight back. Meals that need more than just adding boiling water. Fruits and vegetables, every day. Clean socks. Mongolian Barbeque. Being able to actually write down what I'm thinking instead of forgetting half of it.

So I guess I'm saying that I'm satisfied with what I've done, where I've been, and where I'm at. But I'm also ready to move on to new things; it's time to finish, to return home. But we do have plans after summiting and before I return home: we're going to rent a car and drive from Bangor to Asheville to see a friend we all met on the trail. She said we could crash at her house for a while. I figure I'll spend a few days there before heading back to Detroit. And then? I have no definite plans, really. But I do know one thing...

The West is next.

Andover, ME

I have successfully hiked from Georgia to Maine. Three days ago I entered the 14th and final state along the AT. Now it is largely a game of holding on, simply maintaining the forward momentum for the final 260ish miles remaining. The big pushes, the big mile days, are mainly over. We're all pretty well past our peak-hiking condition, the mountains have worn us down, and speaking for myself, my legs have no power left on those climbs. I can walk all day downhill, can cruise on the levels, but any incline at all and I'm struggling. I need rest and lots of food, and there's no time for it.

And what's it all for? 1900+ miles of hiking, and in what condition do I find myself? Ever fewer things in my pack, as I continually try to trim weight; ever less weight on my body as fat and muscle alike are metabolized into energy; ever less money in my bank; ever less desire to get a job when I finish, let alone a career; and finally, ever less a sense of belonging in the society, the American culture in which I find myself.

People have occasionally asked my fellow hikers and me if we have lots of deep philosophical thoughts while out there hiking in the wilderness of the mountains. Often we answer that it's just the opposite; even with all that time to think, you'd be surprised at the nonsense, the absolutely random thoughts that go through a hiker's mind. And while that's true, for myself at least, I have had a lot of important epiphanies and thoughts while out there. I've learned quite a bit about myself, had some good ideas. One is that I'm not really much of a loner after all; truth be told, I think a good part of my previous dissatisfaction and unhappiness in life were because I spent too much time alone.

But mainly it's a refinement, a sharpening of my certainty of things I already had a general feeling for. I've always sorta known, but have now become sure, that alcohol is not good for me; physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and socially, it's just poison, I don't need it. I knew before that money and things didn't make me happy, but now I've lived it. I may miss music, or my bike, but 6 months without these things, and they've been the happiest times of my life... and I'm basically homeless out here!

That's actually something that's been on my mind a lot lately, now that I'm near the end of this journey. I had initially hoped that this trip would give me time and perspective on my old life so that I could make some decision about what to do with myself. Once underway on the hike, the sense of belonging, of doing what I was supposed to be doing, made me feel like I might actually make some progress in that. It was as if I was on the right course, and that some answers might at long last be found to the questions in my mind. But I'm almost done and this has not occurred.

I tend to believe in a spirituality of subtraction; that is, dropping one's baggage, letting go of things so that they can flow as they will...basically getting out of one's own way. And I seem to be getting rid of a lot of things, as I said above. The progress, of course, is partial, but I have been learning what it is I don't want in life, what I don't need; and I'm happy to have broken out of my old, stagnant life. But I'm still no closer to figuring out what it is I do want. It's clear to me that my goals in life are different from most people, even those I'm hiking with. Family and career aren't list-toppers. Having a family would be alright, of course, but I've never really been driven towards it. And really, a career is only worthwhile if you have loved ones to support; I don't think it makes sense to work my life away if I'm only doing it for myself. As long as I'm fed, it seems, I can be happy. This hike has taught me that much, so there's no real need for the settled, stable life as long as I'm single. I'd rather wander the mountains.

The problem is mainly that my needs and desires are often conflicting. For example, how can someone who wants to spend his nights out under star-filled skies, who wants to go get lost for a few months in some really wild mountains have the social interaction that he feels he needs to be happy?

Anyways, while all these things stew about in my mind, I'm still having a great time. Weather continues to be pretty good, the mountains have eased off in their ruggedness (the Mahoosuc Range was brutal, capped off by the crazy boulder field of Mahoosuc Notch where I nearly ended up as dead as the moose skeleton that resides down there. Took some tumbles, nearly broke my leg, but it was fun!). Right now I'm in a hostel in tiny Andover, watching U of M football! A slight sense of normalcy for a not so normal life, I guess. Gotta make my family back home proud!

Gorham, NH

Hello again from New Hampshire. Things have been going considerably better since I last updated. The weather broke, and we had sun every day but one through the White Mountains, which is good because we were above treeline for a few days and bad weather is REALLY bad up there. The one bad day was a great example of that; it was the day we traversed Franconia Ridge. After taking a zero-day in the woods the day before (I was puking my brains out, drank some bad water I think), we woke to rain. Well, by the time we made the climb up to the ridge, we were in the clouds and 60 mile per hour winds. You could see NOTHING and could hardly stand up to some of the gusts, it was very disappointing for me, since I'd been anticipating this ridge (said to be one of the most beautiful views on the AT) since I began hiking. I had the mountain in my sights for 4 days, and when I finally got to it all there was to see was fog. This has happened too many times on this hike, and it put me in a very sour mood.

But fortunately the weather the rest of the week was great, sunny, clear, and calm. Mount Washington was having the best weather of the year the day we climbed it, so we heard from some folks in the observatory club. The summit disgusted me, though. What was once a holy mountain to the Native Americans is now a parking lot/train station, with gift shop, museum, and deli/lunchroom, and a zoo of tourists. I knew it would be like that, but the reality is worse than the idea. I just wasn't prepared for it, I guess, and couldn't wait to hike off and back into the silence of the mountains again. I wasn't the only one; about an hour later, while KBomb and I were taking a break somewhere along the rest of the Presidential Ridge, he said "listen" and it took me a minute to realize that for the first time in a long time, there was no sound. No distant highway, no airplanes, no wind, not even any flies. It was just us and the naked rock around us, an utter stillness all the more stark and certain for having so recently been on the most touristy mountain I hope I'll ever encounter.

So, yes, I'm enjoying myself and this adventure far more. The work-for-stays at the AMC huts were nice too. The deal is this: a night's stay costs $89, but the AMC lets thru-hikers do odd jobs for our stay, given the lack of options available to us. One night we worked some compost for an hour, another time we swept up and folded some blankets. In return, we get to sleep in the dining room, and eat dinner and breakfast, in huge quantities of whatever is leftover from the guests. Not a bad deal. On the other hand, a few times we didn't want to work, and just stealth-camped. The day hiking over Washington was one of them; we got to Madison Springs Hut too tired to want to bother with work, so we went up on the ridge (above treeline) and slept in the most beautiful place I'd ever been in my life. The weather was perfect for a great sunset, excellent star-viewing, and a nice sunrise. It's the kind of camping I'd always dreamed about; and KBomb keeps telling me it's like that times ten in Colorado, so now I'm dead set to head west after I finish the AT; maybe I'll even do some sections of the PCT. I don't think I'll thru-hike it, or any other +1000 mi trail again, though. Too much need to push, you pass by too many things because of deadlines and such, which is not what hiking should be about.

So it turned out that Whites were not as impossible as I had been fearing. If there's one thing I've learned, it's not to believe the hype. You can always do the climbs, just as long as you keep putting one foot in front of the other, even if it is ridiculously steep. The mountains do have an end to them, there is a summit somewhere, you don't have to climb forever. It's like I said before, you can't worry about what's coming, just about where you are: there, it isn't a 3500 foot ascent, it's just another step, and that is always doable.

Still, those climbs did take a toll. We're all pretty damn tired, and are taking today as a zero here in Gorham. Heading down the 8 miles into town the other day, my legs were so wobbly and weak I didn't know that I'd make it in; I kept falling and slipping on the wet rocks, and just generally felt like shit. We were going to keep going today, but we all realized that this terrain is so rugged, and will continue to be so for some time, that we should rest up, refuel and regroup before moving on. We'll be in Maine in 2 days, and though the Whites are officially behind us, the trail will not get much easier for probably 100 or more miles.

On the plus-side, being out of the AMC areas, we'll save money: no more paying $8 for the lean-to shelters/campsites we've been staying at for free all along, no more opportunties at huts to buy food. Now it is only the trees, lakes, and mountains of Maine that await us, and I couldn't be happier.

Glencliff, NH

Just a brief update here. The rain and mud have NOT stopped. If anything it's worse, because it's getting kinda cold up in the higher elevations. We did a 7 mile day yesterday because I was feeling kinda sick, then we both got wet and it was freezing. I just laid in my sleeping bag all day, shivering, trying to dry off and eventually warm up. Took a couple hours but I eventually did. Thank God the shelter up on that mountain was a four-walled cabin, an ancient fire warden's tower, kinda crummy but kept the wind out.

We had, by this point, lost Enoch and Orangedust (a new-ish addition to our group whom I may not have mentioned. She's cool as hell, and has a little dog with her too, lots of fun). Enoch turned his ankle, apparently, and got into town to rest it. Took us a day to learn this; all we knew was that they never showed up at the shelter the night before. We've since learned, via voicemail-tag and from other hikers, and now from his facebook, that he's made it into town and is looking to do low miles, or maybe take some time off.

Anyways, today I was feeling great, and have renewed my resolve to continue. Despite horrid trail conditions, my mood was pretty good all day. But KBomb's feet, thanks to the constant wet, began to get pretty chafed, and mine weren't doing a whole lot better, so when we hit a road, we decided to hitch into town. Then this guy in a truck driving by just pulled up to where we were sitting (we had not started hitching yet, just snacking and looking at options), and offered us a ride! It's one of those things where you know it was meant to be. When he dropped us off, he gave us $20 bucks too! Best hitch ever!

So we're at the hostel here, just chillin, watching TV and having dry feet. You people back home do not appreciate enough the feeling of dry socks. You just have no idea...

Hanover, NH

Made it into New Hampshire today! I have to admit, Vermont was a pretty hard state for us; if we though Marsh-achusetts (yeah, it's been officially renamed) was muddy and wet, we had no idea about Vermont (Vermud). A more poorly constructed trail I could not imagine, and as the first 97 miles were also the Long Trail, overused as well. Erosion, widening around mud puddles (muddles?) and often just water flowing down the trail... I have to admit, it hasn't been a ton of fun.

In fact, lately it's been feeling more like work than anything, especially with the mountains being "steeper and deeper" ever since Mt Greylock. The uphills are always a challenge for me, and the rain, mud, and a possible intestinal bug have not helped. I told myself, following a fellow hiker's plan, that if I felt like getting off trail for 7 days in a row, I would. I almost made it there this last week, even with the zero-day in Killington. I recouperated pretty well there, our room was a suite and had a TV, fireplace, and was generally very homey, not to mention right next door to the best Irish pub on the trail, and maybe the best I've ever been to. Great food, great times. But it hardly helped my mood improve. As soon as i started hiking again the next day I was depressed and not into it again.

Yesterday was better. I brought back some controlled breathing habits to help me on the climbs which has helped a lot, takes the focus off the pain and exhaustion and puts it solely on the breath; the mud was also less, even with the on-and-off rain all day. Walking through fields of waist high, sometimes shoulder high grass/foliage during or after a rain sucks, you might as well jump in a lake. My feet got soaked again; they've been soaked for days and days, thats actually a big part of my down mood. Your feet are your base, and when the base is troubled, all of you is. I may be moving towards getting trench foot; whatever's going on down there, it hurts.

No, it's not all bad, and I'm sorry to be filling this blog up with negetivity. My friends have been great, we all suffer together and we all bring each other up when it's needed. Thank God this trail is as social a thing as it is; I doubt I could do this alone, if only from sheer boredom. It will suck saying good bye to them when this is over. That's part of why I'm depressed lately, thinking about the end of this hike, and all that goes with it. It's far better, I find, to not think ahead too much, to stick with the present. The future takes care of itself, and when you're not focused on what's in front of you, you just get stressed out. One cool thing is that we may do a road trip after Katahdin to North Carolina to see a friend who's gotten off trail, or maybe farther. So there may be something good waiting for me there.

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that even hiking I still almost got hit by a car. I guess parts of VT are NOT hiker friendly. On some dirt road in the middle of nowhere, and old lady swerved TOWARDS me and KBomb. She passed maybe a foot away from us; I couldn't even react, my mind couldn't process it... I couldn't even jump out of the way, all I could do was turn around and watch her drive away, totally amazed, like, what the fuck just happened?

Well, I'm updating here at the pizza shop, and our order is up, so I gotta go. I've got the White Mountains almost in my sights, preparing for the challenge, excited for the views, and hoping, praying, begging for no more rain.

Dalton, MASS

Hello from Massachusetts! Well, I have to admit we've been having a rather soggy time of it lately. It was great staying in Kent at Sprout's friends' home, they treated us well and drove us back to the trailhead. Unfortunately there was quite a bit of rain thereafter, mostly beginning on the day we left CT. It was actually a pretty dangerous situation, because mostly the trail runs over rocks wet with rain, and of course usually up or down a steep slope, sometimes to the point of climbing hand-over-hand. I remember saying at one point how lame it would be to slip and fall to my death there, in Connecticut, the geek of all the AT states. I mean, there's no big mountains, the views were only alright, it's a very short state in terms of miles... really it has nothing going for it. Of course no sooner had the words left my mouth, when I slip on the rocks again and nearly fall. I apologized profusely to the state, assuring it that I found it to be cool and dangerous.

Well, since then we only had one day of sun, not counting today, as I hear it's going to rain later. Massachusets has been probably my least favorite state thus far. The Berkshire Hills are more of a plateau than a mountain range; even at elevation you're mainly on flat ground, at least thus far; I know Mt Greylock will change all that. But there's just a ton of ponds, marshes, and swamps up there, meaning mosquito hell. It's supposedly the worst state for them on the AT, I hear. And all the rain is not helping. You stop for a break or to catch your breath on a hill and you're immediately swarmed.

And then the rain, for God's sake, the rain. Ok, we haven't been caught out in much of it, but it still is making life difficult. Yesterday was the worst. After recieving some awesome trail magic from Freefall's parents (brownies, soda, chips, pretzels, hummus, and fresh fruit), about 9 of us left in a train of thru-hikers, making for the shelter (a 3 sided lean-to, which are to be found along the entire length of the trail spaced roughly 10 miles apart, like bunkhouses) 1.8 miles away. We were sped along by the rumbling thunder in the distance that seemed to be moving closer and closer. About a half mile from the shelter we were moving very fast, dodging all the flooded sections of the trail as best we could. We began to hear the rain falling ahead, moving towards us as we hurried towards it; imagine 9 hikers at a dead run up up a steep rise trying to make the shelter that finally is in sight. And we made it, too, to watch a half hour of torrential rain and pea-sized, then golfball-sized hail.

As soon as it finished, Enoch, the one of us with any motivation left at this point, says "lets go," so we saddle up and grudgingly head out. The trail was a river, I quickly gave up any notion of keeping my feet dry and just waded through the ankle deep puddles. Which was fortunate since we soon came to a dirt road, actually now a raging river a foot deep in a brown rush of water. There would be several of these to come, some roads, mostly streams, the stepping stones or plank bridges underwater. The trail itself was under water for abouty 4 miles, either flowing or puddled, and freezing cold from the hail. We laughed our way through it, mostly, but as the 9 miles to the next shelter, home for the night, dragged on my mood fell. So did I, several times, once very hard on a wood bridge. Thought I broke my elbow, and took a long time getting up. But thanks to good friends, I was feeling better before we reached the lean-to, cold and wet though my feet were, and hungry as I was. Knowing I was close to done for the day helped too.

But Marsh-achusetts has definitely become my least favorite state so far. I don't think we've even had a view in the last three days, just trees, mud, mosquitos, and swamps. I'm excited to get to Vermont and some real mountains again.

Today we're in town for a quick resupply. Well, not quick, been in town for hours now, but as soon as I finish this I'm heading to a church hostel in Cheshire, about 9 miles away. My boots are still soaked, and I hear the trail is a muddy, wet mess the next 20 miles or so, but I'll push on. I feel kinda bad; we've been traveling in a pretty big group lately, with Neon, CC Rider, Orangedust and her dog, KBomb, Enoch, Icarus, and Sprout, and have been having one hell of a good time; but I think we're about to split up. CC is sick with some intestinal bug, and Neon, who's been his hiking partner for a long time, will stay with him, as will Orangedust probably. And Sprout gets off the trail today, her section hike over. Figures, all the girls are staying behind. Hopefully we'll see them down the line soon. I guess that'll have to be it for now, I want to try and beat some of this weather if I can.

PS: I did get the tent safe and sound, thanks mom. And for the cold-weather gear, I'm going to need my gloves, long johns, and the thick wool socks. I'll let you know which town to send it to when I get that figured out.

Kent, CT

Man, the states are beginning to really fly by now. It helps that they aren't each as long as Virginia was, and that we can consistently do the miles we want without too much trouble. But here I am in New England already! It's pretty crazy to me. Having never been north of New York state, I'm in for a whole new bunch of territory. Should be interesting; so far Connecticut is a very pretty state. We've been following the Housatonic River mostly, and it is just beautiful. Seen some neat covered bridges too, including one (Bull's Bridge) which was used by George Washington and his army several times during the Revolutionary War. Mostly original construction too.

Really things are going great, and I'm enjoying the hiking immensely. New Jersey, despite being New York's armpit, was beautiful. There were some lovely ridge-walks, often in a sort of wooded grassland sort of environment, so you don't feel so enclosed in the "long green tunnel" that was often the case in PA. There were tons of views off those ridges, too. And all the pines (at least in places) and the glacially weathered rocks remind me a lot of the hiking I'd done in Michigan's UP, which is nice. Hiking in pines is some of my favorite, I don't quite know why.

New York was also very pretty. It's full of all these little ups and downs, but the glacial landscapes have increased by this point, so it's all very rugged as well. As I hike I can't help but think of mountain lions prowling around upon the ledges and cliffs the outcrops form, or a surprise attack by a band of roving Indians on some European army. If you ever saw that movie Last of the Mohicans, you get a sense of what was on my mind as I passed through these areas. It helps that the woods are just FULL of old, slowly crumbling stone walls; you can get a real sense of the history of the area just walking in it, and knowing a bit, as I do, of what sorts of events once took place in the very woods through which I'm hiking.

We had one crazy night just as we entered New York that is worth mentioning. It was pretty late, but we decided to push on a bit to make it down into Greenwood Lake to set ourselves up for an early resupply the next day and a quick out of town. First we misjudged our location, thinking we only had 2 miles to go to the side trail down the mountain...walked for 2 hours before finding it in the failing light; it turned out to have been 4+ miles. Then we couldn't find anywhere to camp; because the police station was right next to the park, so stealthing there was out of the question. We eventually asked some teens who were playing basketball for a place to go, and ended up in some park/dirt-bike jump area/dump behind a CVS. And talk about mosquitoes. Being the lazy type, I decided to cowboy it, my tarp being a pain in the ass to set up in the dark, besides it being mostly treeless near where my group set up. Then the rain started. I hurry into the dense, weedy woods and hastily throw up the tarp, not bothering with stakes, just basically draping it over some branches super ghetto style. Pathetic really. And with my 20 degree sleeping bag in the middle of summer, I began a night of sweating and being eaten alive, but certainly not sleeping. Didn't get wet, though.

Made me realize just how half-assed my equipment selection has been thus far: external frame pack, heavy, worthless tarp, sleeping bag too warm for the season, too-heavy food bag (not the food, the bag itself), boots that are literally falling to pieces (that last outfitter was worthless so I'm still in the old ones; hopefully that will change tomorrow). I tell myself that 10, 15 years ago this was all standard and perfectly adequate equipment, but I know I could be making things easier on myself. If only I wasn't so damn cheap, and the stuff I needed wasn't so expensive. I'm not worried about it, though. I know I can get there on what I have. But I did break down and make the call home for my tent to be sent back to me, more for the bugs than anything else.

One thing I feel like mentioning as well is how every day I'm freshly inspired by the fact that everything I need to get by in life in on my back. It's so amazing how happy a man can be with so little; just the few necessities, plus friends and nature. The simple life. And most of the necessities aren't. I don't need the stove and fuel; a fire works just as well and is free. All this really drives home the fact that it's not the things we own that makes us happy, it's the people in our lives and a clear purpose. In this case my purpose is quite simple, just to walk north, but of course there's more going on than that; I'm out here for more than that. But it doesn't have to be complicated. I really hope I can hold onto this real sense of peace and happiness when I've finished, to keep these lessons in mind and close to heart, and to maybe pass them on to others.

One more thing before I go. I want to mention trail magic, because I don't think I have yet. Trail magic is when people leave, say, water out near a road crossing in a dry section, or a cooler full of gatorade, soda, and snacks. The kind of thing that really reminds you of the goodness of people. It's amazing how much less cynical I've become on that front throughout this hike. You just come across so many kind and helpful people doing this, you can't help but remember that most of the negetivity is media-created sensationalism. Most people aren't like what's on the news.

Anyways, the other day I had a car drive by just as I was walking into the woods off a road to ask if I wanted a Coke. Then this other day I was filling up my water bottles from some gallon jugs of water someone had left out when this guy, Paddy-O, drives up, gets out of his truck and starts asking about how many hikers were out today. I mentioned the 5 in my group, plus a few others I knew of; turns out he was going to go to the next road and do a hotdog cookoff, but only if there were enough hikers to make it worthwhile. Made me feel like I was integral to the party, and it sure gave me motivation to bust out those 3 intervening miles to where he was setting up. It was a great time, we stayed for hours gorging ourselves on hotdogs, salsa, beer, and donuts. After we left, he ended up hiking the 1.5 miles up to the campsite with a backpack full of whiskey and moonshine, and we stayed up pretty late having outselves a big party in the woods. And the weirdest part was Sprout, a woman we'd been hiking with for a week or so and a new member to our group, actually knew the guy from a hike she did earlier in the year. She was actually writing him a postcard when he drove up (she was ahead of me that day and happened to be waiting for me and Chopsticks (another young woman who'd recently joined our group) to catch up). Sprout had no idea Paddy-O was coming or was anywhere around, it was kinda freaky really. Small world, you know?

P.S. you all may want to check the New York Times' on Fridays in August; I came across a writer/photographer team yesterday and they did a quick interview for their piece on the AT in Connecticut. I may be quoted or pictured in the freakin Times, man! It'll be in the "Escape" section, and there's a better chance for it on the internet version than the paper one. Still, mom, dad, if you could buy the paper copy for me, just on the off chance of it, I'd appreciate it. It'd be cool to have.

PPS dad, I'm really happy you're doing that bike tour. I'm actually kinda jealous. I've been missing my bike a little lately, and it'd be awesome to do something like that with you. Another time, I hope.

Delaware Water Gap, PA

Ah, finally an internet connection! Tried to update in Duncannon, PA, but the internet at the Doyle Hotel was down. Not surprising, really; the place was a dump. Kinda fun to stay in a place with so much "character" on my birthday. Had some good times though, pretty convenient to be in a town on one's birthday without even planning for it. I really am trying to update more often, but we're not in town as often, or as long when we are, and half the time there's no library or other public computer to use.

I'm here at the Delaware Water Gap, just across the bridge from New Jersey. It's been a bit of a blur since I last updated. Maryland was pretty good; unlike Virginia, I could call it flat, since it was mostly just a ridgewalk. Only one hard part, in the last few miles when there was some major-ish elevation change over some pretty serious rocks. But then again, the serious rocks were waiting for me in Pennsylvania.

PA is legendary for its rocks, people talk about it right from the first days on the trail, it's the monster waiting for you down the dark road, so to speak. At first, I didn't believe it. Even once I got into the state, I wasn't too impressed; there was one day when KBomb and I pounded out 17 miles in just a few hours; the last 3.75 miles we did in under an hour. Then there was this 20 mile wide valley to cross where I probably did similar speed, though I couldn't time it. I didn't want to have a watch out here, as I didn't want to know the time more than what the sun can tell me; it's all you really need, and it's nice to be off a schedule. Of course, some of the people I hike with are always timing our milage and such, which actually can get kind of annoying... Anyways, on through Duncannon the hiking was pretty good.

Then we crossed the Susquehanna River, and it all changed. The second half of this state, just 100 or so miles, has chewed up my feet more than all previous miles had combined. You should see my boots, they're in shreds, the sole is falling off, and the bottoms are nearly smooth. Not bad, though, for having found them in a swap box at a hostel 1100 miles ago... they probably had at least 4-500 miles on them when I got them, so I'm happy with that; most people put only around 800 miles on their boots...but then again, my motto seems to be "good enough gets it done." Still, I'll probably be buying some new ones tomorrow, I hope. I want the same brand, so the outfitter better have them. If not I may just doctor them up with duct tape and try to make it to Kent, Connecticut where there's another outfitter.

Otherwise, things are going great. That valley I mentioned was fun; I was jamming to my mp3 player (though I rarely use it), was in a great mood and felt great for hiking, and it was good to see some farmland. Picking mullberries along the way helped. And lately there's been a shit-ton of blueberries; I'm probably eating too many, but they're delicious, and free, and it's nice to eat right from the open hand of Mother Nature, makes me feel a bit more connected with the landscapes through which I'm walking. That's part of why I almost never treat or filter my water, to the amazement of most of my fellow hikers. What's more natural than drinking clean, fresh water? Why put our silly devices between us and the world? Anyways, statistics show the chances of getting giardia or other water-borne illness is equal whether or not one treats/filters.

The only real bad things I have to report are, for one, I finally weighed my pack, and was dismayed and depressed to find that it weighed 35lbs with only 2 days of food in it. Did have 4lbs of water, but still, I thought it was way less. Also, my tarp failed me during a rainstorm. Well, two rainstorms. The first one it was just some spray blowing in on both ends, forcing me into the center of the tarp. The second one was far worse; however, in hindsight, it was all my fault. I set up in a low spot, and the ground didn't absorb the water: a big puddle formed under my sleeping pad. I noticed in time, but still had to spend most of the night curled in a tiny ball at one end of the tarp, until the water finally soaked in around 4 A.M. Miserable.

Lastly, the beauty and grandeur of Delaware Water Gap was seriously marred by the roar of traffic from the 4 lane highway below. I know we need commerce and transportation, but It's hard when that gets to stand before everything else in our lives, ruining some things that are unique and one-of-a-kind. I think about conservation, sustainable farming/living, and so on pretty much every day, thinking I'd like to get involved in that somehow. And then I see a friend of mine, a hiker who's out here for at least some of the same reasons as I am, and I watch him unwrap a candy bar as he hikes and drop the wrapper, and all I can do is sigh and pick it up when I get to it. I sometimes wonder if there is any hope for us at all.

Harper's Ferry, West Virginia

(if your interested in what i've been doing the last few weeks, see previous post)

Here I am, in Harper's Ferry, the "psychological" halfway point of the AT. The real halfway point is 100 miles or so north, in the woods somewhere (where it should be!). This is a pretty cool town, they keep it that way with building codes. Very touristy, and all the buildings have an old look; there is some very cool stonework to see on some of the homes and shops, and some killer landscaping to go along with it. But the whole town literally closes down at 5, the shops, cafes, everything. Plus Enoch hurt his knee the other day on some rocks and wants more time to let it heal; so, we're zeroing here today. We've gotten a great deal at a new hostel (we were there on their very first day of being open!), so lodging is taken care of. And now we get to check out some of the parks and tours. H.F. is a very historical town, especially noted for John Brown's raid on the armory here just before the Civil War; and since Enoch is from Kansas, where Brown was also active in raids and fighting in the 1850's, he's pretty excited about that.

I'm pretty excited because yesterday we met up with KBomb again. He skipped some of the AT in order to "aqua blaze" which is to say he and a group of other hikers took canoes down the Shenandoah River rather than "white blazing," or following the AT (the trail being marked with white blazes). We didn't plan to meet him or anything, but it turned out he arrived here just hours before we did. I don't think we could have planned it better.

Pretty pumped to be heading into Maryland tomorrow, and Pennsylvania within a few days. Some people do the 4 state challenge, going from VA, through WV and MD to PA in a 24 hour period, but I'm enjoying taking it easy. I don't need to be doing 50-some miles in one day (I actually heard about 3 guys who did 61 miles in 24 hours through Shenandoah!) Seems like a waste to me; really like self-abuse. I can walk 20 or more easy enough, and wouldn't mind doing one 30 mile day at some point, just to say I did, but milage is low priority with me, beyond meal planning/resupply and such. This trip is about so much more than mere movement along a trail that I'd hate to get that caught up in that kind of thing.

I hope I'll be able to update again soon, but regardless, I hope everyone back home is doing good and enjoying the oncoming summer.

Bear's Den Hostel, Bluemont, VA

Sorry for the lack of updates, there seems to be a major lack of computers in the forest. Yeah, I don't get it either.

Just stopped by this hostel for showers, lunch (icecream!) and an update. Since I last logged on here (Daleville), I have hiked some serious miles. There were places between there and Waynesboro that were seriously rugged (by the way, Eric, I did make it to, and past, Waynesboro the day you dropped me off). Some huge ups and downs, and in some very high heat and humidity. There was one 2600 foot climb, though, that I'm particularly proud of, because I blasted up that hill like a maniac, ignoring the steepness, in fact, using my anger at these ridiculous climbs to fuel my ascent. I was only just beginning to wheeze/get seriously out of breath when I reached the top. Felt like a fuckin champ up there, though I was so completely saturated with sweat, I couldn't have been wetter had I just jumped in a lake.

Also, I have gone through Shenandoah National Park (SNP), which was nice in some ways, not so good in others. The deer are tame enough to walk almost all the way up to (some can be hand-fed, though it's illegal), which got to be almost annoying when they wouldn't clear off the trail; and Enoch poked a rabbit with his hiking pole, after which it hopped twice then stopped to look at us. None of the animals can be hunted, and they know it. I even saw a bear; walked right up on a mom and 2 cubs before I realized that THIS time it actually wasn't a dark stump, but was in fact a live bear. I guess they do exist.

But there is a definite tension there between the park and hikers. That place is obviously not for us; it's for the tourists with their cars and fat wallets, their idiotic drive-by photo-taking of pretty overlooks, after which they drive to the waysides or restaurants to buy the parks ridiculously overpriced food. I admit I spent too much there too. I really didn't like how they would cut down and leave for dead all the trees under the Skyline Drive turnoffs at the overlooks, then put up hundreds of signs at every trailhead saying "Leave No Trace!" to the hikers. What exactly do they call developed campgrounds, waysides/camp stores/restaurants, and highways? Personally, I don't like having a damn highway running through a national park, usually within hearing distance (if not seeing distance) of the Trail. Kinda takes away from the wilderness experience.

So far I'm not entirely impressed with our national park system, having been through two (SNP, and the Smokies). I've mentioned some of my gripes about Shenandoah (forgetting to mention the gypsy moth problem which is highly prevalant in the north end); the Smokies I have less against, though Clingman's Dome would have been nicer had they not built the big observation tower (with road and parking). I guess tourists really annoy me. What is the point of driving to a scenic view, snapping a photo, then leaving? The photo means nothing when it's that easy; it tells no story and has little value beyond shallow asthetics. Did I mention I've become a bit of a hiking snob? Also the Smokies are being devestated by acid rain, and it really shows. I guess that's more a comment on our society than the park itself, though.

I was glad to leave SNP, though. The last day, it was looking like rain, but I made it to a shelter in time to miss a downpour. Thinking it done, me and Keith, a guy who I was hiking with that day, decided to push on a few more miles. Half a mile out, things got Biblical. Nothing like climbing towards a mountain peak in a lightning storm. I was drenched in no time, the trail was a river. I angrily decided I would not be camping but would go on the 10.5 miles to the next shelter. I left Keith somewhere on a mountain and went on, throwing all kinds of curses down on SNP, looking forward to passing the boundary and sleeping outside that damn park. And then the boundary was in sight. I step past the sign, and literally that second the rain stopped dead. I think the park dislikes me as much as I dislike it.

Right now I'm hiking a section called "the rollercoaster." Instead of following the main ridgeline, which would be the logical way to run a trail, "Trailboss and his merry crew of volunteers" have decided to run the trail a half mile down the ridge, but parallel to it. Meaning we climb up, and down, and up, and down, into and out of every single hollow ("holler") along the way. The climbs are steep and rocky, and knowing that this shit is intentional just makes you angry as you hike. The only saving grace is that at the bottom of every holler is a creek, and that it isn't too hot out. And that we're almost out of Virginia, once and for all! It will feel good to hit a new state, makes you feel like progress is being made (though I did actually already camp in West Virginia a few weeks ago at Syms Meadow, since the trail ran a few miles along the state line just north of Pearisburg).

Also, I will hit 1000 miles before today is over, which is an incredible feeling. It's amazing that the longer I'm out here, the more I love it, and the harder it is to concieve of trying to go back to "the real world." This feels far more real than anything I've ever known, and I've never in my life felt this happy. I know I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing, which is a feeling I've never really had. I'm struggling only with my thoughts of "after the AT"; I really don't know where I'll go from here, or how I can ever go back to a city-life, a working-life. The farther you get from that, the more perspective you have of it, and the more glaringly apparent the problems with that world become. I guess I still have 1176 more miles to figure something out.

Daleville, VA

(added some more info since last night's update)

Sorry for not updating in a while, I had no time in Pearisburg, as we did an in-and-out resupply of sorts. Stayed the night but were only there in the evening, so no library visit for me. Tonight I'm in Daleville, I think. It's kind of a big interchange of two highways and an interstate, between Daleville and Troutville. Fast food, gas stations, and motels... quite a difference from my previous week of mountaintop sunsets, trees, and lots and lots of rocks. And though I have many gripes against this civilization into which I've just jumped back into, sure is nice to get a shower, and gorge myself on food.

Been pushing some big miles lately. Enoch has family he's meeting for Shennendoah N.P. and I'm trying to meet up with a friend up near there too. Out of Pearisburg, did a 12, then a 20, two 18s and today a 24. My body hurts.

Been a good few days though. The first night out we were up on Symms Meadow, which has taken Max Patch's place as best campsite so far. Had a great view (the meadow was on a mountain ridge), with a perfect sunset and an amazing sunrise. A new friend, "Simply" had some whiskey, and Enoch and I ate quesedillas for dinner (KBomb had packed himself out a strip steak and corn on the cob!). The weather has been great too, except for today, with a lot of rain, fog, and cooler temps.

The fog and rain really kind of blew the day, really. We had camped just a bit past VA 624, after stopping at a gas station for burgers and hotdogs, next to a stream. But there was cow shit around, so we didn't get any water, had a dry night. We hiked for 6 miles before we could eat breakfast (besides candy bars), aiming for a shelter with a clean water source, a seasonal spring, which turned out to be dry. Shit. So we had another candy bar, and hiked the mile to the next shelter, where there was a year-round spring. But the skies dumped on us in the meantime; and with the temperature drop, we were freezing cold for hours. It didn't help that we didn't pur rain gear on, so we were soaked to the bone. Hiked all day in wet shoes, and here's the kicker. McAffee Knob and Tinker Cliffs are supposed to have great views, but with the fog, there was nothing to see, especially on the Knob. It was like staring into the void, just a pure whiteness. I had been looking forward to that section too, so it was a big disappointment. S0 being tired and sore, plus wet and viewless, the day was a bit crappy. Yet it seemed to improve all day, from being in a terrible mood in the morning, to happy as a pig in shit by nightfall. Not a bad way to live a day, I guess. Improvement is always good.

Anyways, I'm zeroing here tomorrow. We're all pretty tired, and I don't know if we're going to make our schedules. I myself haven't slept good in a few days, thanks to a too-warm sleeping bag, lots and lots of bug bites (I hate no-see-ums), and extremely loud snorers in the last two shelters we stayed at. Makes a man want to camp out all the time, but when you're tired, you don't always feel like setting up camp. So here's to a nice day off and lots of eating!

Oh and by the way, if I find the hiker who's spreading the lie that Virginia is flat, I am going to kill him. Kill him dead.

Damascus, take two

EDIT: Wanted to point out I added some links, to Snap+Snack's blog, and to a link to a site that displays some photos of my trip.

Yeah, I'm back in Damascus. I woke up last Saturday to find that Kevin, AKA K-Bomb (newest member of the crew, who joined us about two weeks ago when the last member of his group left the trail with an injury), had made a deal with a guy to shuttle us up to US-11, near Atkins VA so we could hike south-bound to Trail Days, a hiker festival here in Damascus. I was originally going to skip it, in fact so was everyone else, or at least we hadn't decided, but it became so easy to get back that we figured why not. We're camped at a park that for the weekend is called "tent city," in probably the soggiest place ever. It's been rainy and we're near a creek; I wasn't there when the site was chosesn, I was busy jogging back to town as I'll explain below; but the whole park is pretty wet so I guess that's just life.

Anyways, Virginia is a damn beautiful state. Up by the Greyson Highlands and Mount Rogers, there's a lot of huge open expanses, like the balds I mentioned before; lots of grassy fields dotted with little trees and shrubs. The views are amazing, some liken it to Montana. I loved all the rock formations and outcrops, they reminded me of Lord of the Rings scenes of Rohan. And there's actually herds of feral ponies there; you can walk right up to them, and they like to try to eat your pack.

Still, you don't get good days without bad ones, and I'll admit I've had plenty in the last week. First day was great, second day was a stormy one in a very small, VERY full shelter. The third day I had a migraine and a 9 mile hike in freezing, damp, and very windy weather. Only 9 miles because I stopped at a shelter for a nap, threw up, and decided I wasn't budging. Fortunately everyone else was happy to stay, seeing as how we had a lot of time to get to Damascus and didn't want to get here early and spend money. I felt better nearly right after I puked; and being the only ones at that shelter, to stay occupied we were wrestling and throwing each other's shoes down the mountain, then played cards. Later that night Snap taught us some yoga, which I'm glad we finished before those two guys showed up because some of those moves were pretty ridiculous looking. Fourth day was the awesome day in the Highlands and sunshine, fifth day my left ankle decided it had had enough of all these Virginia rocks and was going to start aching again, this time in the tendons in front, also my right foot on top again.

Today was a short hike into town, but painful. I got a shower at The Place, a hostel, and left my wallet there. Thank God for good people, though; Rambo picked it up and gave it to someone else, who was there after I jogged back from Tent City once I learned of my idiocy. It's not often in my life I feel like a lucky man, but I sure did today. Not sure if it's a good omen, though, or if I'm ready for 3 days of straight up partying. I started thinking I should have skipped Trail Days, that I should just thumb it back up to Atkins and hike short days until my crew catches back up to me. Sad thing is, Snap and Snack are getting off for a week, for a wedding Snap is going to be in, so the crew won't even be the crew; I'll sure miss hiking with them. Funny how this Trail experience keeps changing.

Well, I'm about out of time here at the library, so I'll have to leave it there.

Damascus, VA

Made it to another new state! The hiking of late has been excellent, I'm feeling much better than when I wrote last time, the walks are often incredibly beautiful, and the terrain has been pretty easy. The land has changed slowly as I've been walking. The views no longer reveal seperate mountain peaks, now the mountains are long, mostly level-topped ridges, with the occasional higher knob along the way. Makes for easier walking--most of the time. This will never really be easy; just when you think it is, either you're doing more miles, pushing harder, or you get hurt, or it rains... best leave your pride at home.

And it's true, a huge number of people have recently dropped out, including many of the guys who were doing the big miles early on, all the ones who one would think would have easily made it. Injuries can happen to anyone. So can discouragement, and boredom. So I'm just trying to do my thing and not feel too big about it. It does suck, though, because much of the group I had been loosely hiking with the last month or so are gone; on the plus side I'm meeting many new people.

Had a great night on Tuesday. We were up on Iron Mountain, a long ridge that parallels Lake Watauga, formed behind Watauga Damn. One of the most beautiful views so far, and it didn't diminish one bit come nightfall. The stars came out over the lake, and for once we could get a good view of them, through a large opening in the trees. The mountains across the valley, before inflamed by the setting sun, were now so dark, though you could still make out seperate ridges; they pale in the distance so that it almost looks fake. There was a little town directly down below us, close enough to hear the dogs bark, but I guess it was a few miles down and away. There were lights all around the lake too; the whole sight was beautiful, jewel-like. Here we were, way up on a mountain, so far from that world down below, with everyone watching TV, with flush toilets and showers close at hand, more food than they can eat. You miss some of it sometimes, though not all of it by far, and not all the time. I didn't mind that I was sleeping in a sleeping bag with only the stars for a roof; I guess I prefer it that way.

Well, anyways, the last couple of days we've been doing big miles, so we could push into Damascus early the third day (today). Tuesday we did ~18, and did a 22 miler yesterday. Hiking miles like that just isn't much fun, not the 22 at least. You don't feel like you can stop and enjoy anything, I even felt rushed at our lunch break; I wanted to take a nap, but had too many miles to go. But everyone seems agreed there, I think we're going to be staying in the teens for a while. It the terrain stays like this, 16, 17 mile days aren't bad.

Lastly, I wanted to make sure I didn't offend anyone with my comment about the Protestant church I visited. Didn't mean the service was bad, just that they stumbled through it a bit. Maybe I was just expecting something different. But the sermon was one of the best I ever heard; had to do with not staring at the sky after Jesus ascended, not only focusing on only the life to come, but to get to work HERE, in this life. There's a lot we need to do Saw a sticker at a hostel today that summed it up nicely: If you care for the Creator, care for the Creation. Which of course fits right into what I was saying before about war, nukes, and pollution. Environmentalism, war... these are NOT political issues. They are first and foremost moral issues, and people need to realize that before any progress is going to be made. And I don't mean some kind of strict moral code from some high authority. Just simply look at what pollution and war do to each other and the world we and our children live in; it should be clear that they are wrong, for anyone, whatever their religious persuasion might be.

Dennis Cove, near Hampton TN

First, there are a ton of new pics posted on Snap's blog; see previous post for the link. 

Well, I seem to have hit a wall the other day. I blame poor meal planning, mainly. In Erwin, the hostel owners ran a shuttle into town to the Post Office, leaving me only ten minutes or so to run down to a Walgreens to try and get my resupply. Well, ramen, easy mac, granola bars and snickers were the mainstay for the next few days, and I definitely didn't have my lunches and snacks figured out too well. I think I exhausted myself, I've been feeling nauseous on and off the last two days. Fortunately, we're taking a zero today. Unfortunately, I can't gorge myself to try and regain some energy reserves, though as the day goes on I'm getting my appetite back. Spent most of the afternoon napping, which also helps. 

I have had some great times even so; I think the morning climb two days ago up Hump Mountain was excellent; probably the most beautiful mountain so far. Roan Mountain the day before was also beautiful, reminded me of Michigan's UP, what with all the conifer forests. I really love the balds, though. Hump Mountain is a bald; that is, the top of it is grassy and meadow-like, for reasons unknown to anyone. Great views from the tops, you can see the trail snaking along the grass-covered ridges. 

Our sleeping arrangements last night came about in a pretty interesting way. Early on in the hike we had met this married couple from Johnson City, TN, named Adam (Slowtrain) and Rachel (EZ Does It). Turns out Adam's parents have a cabin about 200 yards from the A.T. where it crosses Dennis Cove Rd. But they had been off the trail a few days for a wedding, and were a few days behind us anyways. So we got to the cabin, with no one there, and were going to just camp out on the lawn or porch (as they had suggested we do if they weren't there). Then, needing resupply and dinner, we start walking into town, which was starting to feel like a long walk over a damn mountain; after 15.5 miles already that day, we weren't excited for that. So I heard a car coming and stuck out my thumb. Best luck ever hitchhiking so far... a very low-traffic road, and the first guy stopped. We rode down a really twisty-turny road in the back of a pickup that was going way too fast. Tons of fun!

After a great, cheap meal and grocery shopping, we started walking, but no one was driving by. We ended up calling Kincorra Hostel, which was also near the AT, for a shuttle back. Bob Peoples is a great friend to hikers, and a great guy, didn't even charge us for the ride, even though we weren't staying at his hostel. We hung out there a while with everyone that was (the place was full, no room at the Inn) then walked back to the cabin, ready to sleep out.

Well, Adam and Rachel ended up showing up! It was so cool, they're a lot of fun to hang out with, and we stayed up till 3 talking and drinking. Considering we usually go to bed at 9 or whenever it gets dark, it was a real crazy night. We went to church this morning, which was different. Never been to a Protestant church; actually, the presentation seemed almost half-assed. I don't really mean that offensively, I'm just used to the exact-same-every-time Catholic Mass... they have that thing down to a science. I'm glad I went though, it was a good experience. 

Kind of goes along with where my mind's been lately. There's a lot of time to think when you hike, since you're mostly staring at the ground for 8 hours. Half the time I'm just playing songs in my head, since that's all the music I have, but sometimes I have some pretty deep thoughts, about God, and nature, philosophy, the pollution killing all the trees in the Smokies. Being so far from the canned news sources and media, there feels like there's so much freedom of thought, and much more depth to thought. 

For example, the other day I was hiking alone through some beautiful forest, and was thinking about how between God and man, only man has ever shown any real intent on destroying the world. Nature, or Creation if you prefer, has been flourishing for so long, since the beginning. But look at how we war; we invent the atomic bomb and use it immediately. I got so depressed thinking about how the longer we have nukes, the more certain it is we're going to use them. Sad to know that all this beauty I'm walking in will probably be turned to ash unless we get our act together as a species. If only we could have time to think about what life really is all about, not all the little bullshit material things, but the things that matter, like family, friends, love, faith, and nature; if only we could open up to one another and to the world, open the clenched fist in our hearts, silence the voice that screams No! to the world and say Yes; if only we could look for what connects us rather than what divides, because the differences are so small, the similarities so overarching. 

I'm only just scratching the surface here; hard to condense so many hours of ideas into a little blog. So long as I don't waste all my time playing songs in my head, I just may end up with some material for a book. 

Greasy Creek Friendly Hostel @ Greasy Gap

EDITS: first, I named the hostel wrong, this is the Greasy Creek Friendly, not the Hiker Friendly. Second, Snap has a blog, which has pictures. She doesn't seem to update it much, but you can see some of the people I'm hiking with. Check it out here: www.maggieandbeki.blogspot.com

Updating two days in a row. Taking a nearo (near zero, that is) at the Greasy Creek Friendly Hostel, ~22 miles out of Erwin. The woman who runs this made me a FANTASTIC turkey sandwich, almost exactly like the one I'd been dreaming of the other day. Ah, sweet heaven.

So... after my 23ish mile day getting into Erwin, thanks to the damn detour around the Forest Service's controlled burn area (which included the shelter I planned to stay at), I only planned on doing a 4 mile day out of town; just up to the first shelter. When I got there, a girl named Motor Butt was there, bundled up in her sleeping bag in the middle of the day, reading the shelter register (where hikers leave little journal entries). Said that she and the weather (rainy, cold) were fighting. We get to talking a bit, and I mention I live in Michigan... she giggles. I'm like, what's so funny about Michigan? and she says she just met a girl from there. I'm like, it's Snap, isn't it? And it was. Apparently they left the very same shelter just 15 minutes before I got there.

Well of course I had to run after; I'd been trying to catch that group for a week, dammit. So onward 12 more miles. Sigh. But I caught them up on Unicol Mountain, and hiked the last 2 miles with my crew. Much better than hiking alone. And I'm impressed with myself, actually. Just a couple weeks ago, I nearly died in the Smokies doing 10 miles nonstop; yesterday, I did 11 miles without stopping even for a drink of water, hardly took a breather. Now, usually I sweat a ton, like I have a personal water source on my forehead (salty, unfortunately). With it being cool the last 2 days, I can go much longer.

Not trying to brag or anything, just kinda amazed by how quickly I'm adapting to the hiking, my legs feel so strong. Been pulling some big miles, even injured I was doing 15s and 16s. But I don't want to keep it up. I'd like to pull into camp earlier, and be able to relax. Hopefully my crew is down with that. Anyways, when it's hot and the springs dry up, big days can be harder to pull off. And really, this is a vacation of sorts. Why make it into work?

Anyways, it was freezing last night. I didn't sleep at all, really. When I did wake up, there was snow waiting outside the shelter, and a steady 20mph wind. Getting going was hard this morning, even with only 6 miles planned. I definitely have more respect for my dad for working out in cold like that for so many years. Though it's not bad to hike in, once you warm up. But--and mom, I'm sorry for this--but I really can see why he hates the cold, even though I think it's warmer right now in Detroit than it is down here. I'm in full long johns, fleece, and rain coat. Y'all are probably in shorts.

Erwin TN

No rain, no pain, no Maine. Heard that a few days ago, and think it's a great motto for this hike. I've had plenty of rain the last two days, and more today, since I plan to hike out of this hostel at least a few miles. It was so full last night I didn't even get a bunk, had to set up the tarp on the lawn. Shower was nice though, and the breakfast at the diner was so fattening and delicious. It's really amazing how much time you can spend fantisizing about food. I probably whiled away an hour or so yesterday thinking about a chicken sandwich. Yeah, that's right, a chicken sandwich. And if I could find a Taco Bell anywhere down here, I'd be in heaven.

Coming out of Hot Springs was a hard day for me. Hatchet really wanted me to get off the trail with him, hang out a month or so, then hike southbound from Maine with him. But I know if I got off the Trail for any amount of time, I'd quit. And there's no guarantee he's gonna be able to hike this year, his leg is in bad shape and he won't get it looked at. So that, coupled with the pain I was in, made the hike out of there hard. But I made it up to Max Patch, a bald about 10 miles out of town. Absolutely beautiful views, the sunset was amazing, so was the sunrise. It was clear all night, which was great because there was a meteor shower occuring. What luck to be out of the trees on a mountaintop, and to have clear skies! That goes down as one of the best nights of my life.

And as far as my injuries, most of my pain is gone. Hot Sauce gave me some Ibuprofen 2 days ago, and probably saved my hike in doing so. I was so frustrated with the state of my foot that I was on the verge of quitting. Then, limping into camp, he offered me the drugs, and it helped immensely, felt tons better the next day. Then Cayenne gave me a little baggie of some, she calls it vitamin I; that has also helped. I'm not big on drugs and such, but maybe they're not all just poision with a few good side effects. Or they are, but sometimes it's worth it.

But yeah, people out here are great, with everyone looking out for everyone; my opinion on humanity improves daily.

Hot Springs.

Something is wrong with me, something is SERIOUSLY wrong with me. On the walk in to Hot Springs this morning, I found myself feeling strangely happy--yes, happy--to hear car traffic. It was like music to my ears. I never would have thought I'd feel that way about the sound of engines. Seems like I've spent years dreaming of being far, far away from them, and here I am, feeling comforted by them. Weird.

So yeah, I'm in Hot Springs this morning. Had a cup of coffee at a diner (having way too much food in my bag to consider buying any) and was really enjoying the music they had on. James Taylor, Jimmy Buffet, acoustic stuff like that. Damn I miss music, probably one of the things I miss the most actually. Hatchet and I had on a great country station at Standing Bear, for as long as the rest of the people there would stand it, and it was like a little bit of heaven. I may end up buying a crank-up radio like Hatchet had for my listening pleasure, it's worth the weight.

Been hiking alone the last few days, as I mentioned Hatchet is off the trail. I meet up with people in the evenings but I'll admit, it's been hard lately. Hatchet would usually walk behind me, because I walk so slow that he joked that he never got tired (meanwhile I'm gasping my way up the hills, haha). He'd always be running his mouth, and the conversation really moved the hike along. Now I'm playing a serious mental game with myself, fighting off discouragement. I hope I can catch up to Snap, Snack, and Clayton (who now goes by Enoch, meaning "walks with God"). Now that I'm mostly healed up, I might be able to keep up with them.

Well, beautiful as this town is, the daylight's burning and I must be on my way. Hope everyone is well at home, I miss you all. Onward to Erwin!

Smokie Mountain Madness

Well, Franklin was ridiculous. Almost got kicked out; shouldn't have let the hippie group sneak in the motel room for showers and sleeping. Live and learn, I guess. We've outrun them since then, intentionally. I miss the music around the fire, though.

The smoky mountains were also ridiculous. Hatchet's leg gave out the day before, so he stayed at a hostel this last week while I hiked through them with Clayton (the Kansas guy) and Snap and Snack (that is, Rebbecca and Maggie, the Detroit girls). We left Fontana around 2:30, with 13.5 miles ahead of us. The dam was closed, so we had to go the 2.8 mile detour. My left ankle was pretty fucked up already, thanks to me running down a mountain trying to keep up with Hatchet and some girl we'd met a couple days prior. So, we hike up, and up, and up out of Fontana to the ridgeline and the 3 inches of snow that was up there. And then it starts getting dark.

Well, I've never been so exhausted in my life. We took no breaks, except when my crew waited for me to catch up, which means they got breaks, I didn't. I eventually had no choice but to put myself into a trance so I wouldn't feel any pain, and just push on. It worked, and I finally caught up with Maggie and just followed her. Didn't want to be hiking alone in the cold dark, especially with the thick fog that was forming. We finally made it to the Mollies Ridge shelter around 9 or so, and I swear the last hour of hiking I was not in my right mind. It was like I wasn't even there, there was just the breathing, and the walking.

I couldn't even eat when I got there, just sat by the fire trying to remember who I was, and get my breathing back to normal. Never breathed so deep and pure in my life. I dried off the sweat as best I could, having nothing to change into, crawled into my sleeping bag, and slept.

The rest of the Smokies was just a fog of pain. Great views, true, and great weather, but I limped the whole way through. Today, my ankle is feeling 80%, but my right foot bones are terribly sore from favoring the left ankle. Yesterday it was the foot and the knee. It never ends. Had my first serious thoughts of quitting yesterday because of it, but I saw a family of deer on the trail just looking at me, and took it as an omen. I'm here at Standing Bear Farm taking the day off, hoping that it will help. Hatchet is back, he actually met us at the Davenport Gap shelter (just a couple miles from here) this morning and carried my pack down to the road, where I hopped a shuttle in to the hostel. Good to have my hiking partner back. Found some boots here that pretty much fit, too, so I'll be giving them a shot. But rest assured, I do plan to hike in my mocc's when it's dry. Gotta live up to my name, dammit.

This hostel does beer runs too. Yay!

Franklin NC

Well, I made it to my first new state! North Carolina has much bigger mountains than GA, it's great. Loving the downhills; the climbs are damn hard on me though. I renamed Albert Mountain; it's now officially Asskick Mountain. 360 degree view from the top, if you climb the old firetower. Too bad I didn't have any pics left on my roll of film. But I had one of my newfound hiking partners take a shot and email it to me so at least there's that. Me and Hatchet have sorta teamed up with these two guys from Kansas, they've been a bunch of fun; one of them is the one who took the pic. Also been trying to hike with those girls from Detroit I mentioned before... problem is we go a little faster and no one wants to slow down; we sometimes meet up with them at the campsites, more often not. It's a work in progress.

I'm in Franklin tonight, somewhat against my wishes, as Hatchet was thinking about giving up and wanted to rest his legs and boost his spirits. He's currently getting drunk. It's a bit early for me, and truth be told I'm kind of annoyed to have to spend another night in town so soon after Hiawassee, but I don't want to lose my hiking partner. Doing this trail really depends on the people you're with. The physical part can be tough, but my body is adapting. Even my foot is mostly better, as long as I hike in my moccasins. The hardest part can be the mental part. Was feeling pretty depressed the other morning; insomnia struck and I ended up thinking about a lot of shit I shouldn't be. It makes hiking hard, because your head isn't in it. Fortunately I have so many cool people around me most of the day that I can at least keep going. Eventually things get better.

Still, I'd rather be spending my nights and zero days in the woods. You don't bleed money out there. I have a long way to go to get to Maine, and I seem to spend 80 bucks or so when we stay in these towns, and I want to do this on the cheap. I just gotta get that through Hatchet's head.

Hiawassee

Well, my hiking partner, Hatchet (so named because he carries a hatchet), has convinced me to stop for a zero day here in Hiawassee, GA. Got us a motel, even. It's pretty nice, actually... I'm showered, and have a few beers in me, and life is generally good. About to head down to the all-you-can-eat chinese restaurant, can't wait. I'm pretty happy about the fact that all the people we started hiking with are still in it, and are pretty much just behind us. There's all kinds of cool people out here; one group had so much food they were giving it away (already cooked!) to kill weight, and one of them is a damn fine harmonica player. There's also a girl with a half-size guitar, we've had some jam sessions up in these mountains so far! Every day I meet some cool people, and that's been one of the best parts so far. Even though the fog and rain haven't let up for more than a day so far, I'm having a great time. My body is beginning to adjust to the rigors, though I may have a stress fracture in my right foot...I have no way of knowing but it does tend to hurt. Well, stomach is growling, gonna head out. Hope everyone back home is doing well, I'll try to update again soon.
-Moccasin

Neel's Gap

hey all! at Neel's Gap, in GA, about 40 mi in. Had to hitchhike/walk to the start of the trail from Dalton, as it turns out there's no shuttle service there. Fun fun. took two days, and gave me tons of blisters, so I had to hike a couple days in moccasins, which gave me my trail name, Moccasin. Met up with a pretty cool guy, we've been hiking together, and there's some cool girls (from Detroit, even) who have camped most nights with us as well. At a hostel tonight, good to be out of the rain. it's been foggy as hell too, so after every mountain climb, there's no view as a reward. Just a knee crushing walk downhill to look forward to, and a soaked-wet camp. Spirits remain high, though, and have no thoughts of quitting yet. Hope to update again soon, peace!

The Plan

Hello everyone! This blog is intended to be a sort of trail journal for the people back home while I hike the Appalachian Trail. It won't really get going for a few weeks, because I won't be starting the trail for a few weeks, so don't expect a ton of updates for a while. I'm still just working and waiting, and psyching myself up for this.

For those who don't know, the Appalachian Trail is a footpath that leads along the spine of the Appalachian Mountains through 14 states for over 2,100 miles. I hear that about 2000 people start out every year to hike the whole thing (called thru-hikers) and about 200 actually finish. Poor odds, and I'm sure most of you who think I'm going to get eaten by a bear also think that I won't make it. Well, think what you will, but I have confidence. Either way, it will be good just to be out there.

Now, I'm not sure how regularly I'm going to update this. My uncle Mike suggested I set up a blog, and I like the idea, but have reservations. As I'm trying to do this hike as cheaply as possible, I'll be avoiding towns when possible, since it's hard to spend money in a forest, and so very easy in towns. Town stops are mainly going to be for getting food and stove fuel. Any stays in town will be at the cheaper hostels, or where there's free places there to camp. That mentality could change once I'm face to face with the rigors of the Trail, but for now that's my plan. So there may be weekly updates, maybe not even that. Depends on internet availability; I don't know how many of those small towns will have libraries, and if those libraries will have internet. I may also decide it's just not worth the trouble.

Also, I don't have a digital camera, so there won't be any pictures. Sorry. You'll just have to meet up with me when I get back to see the photos.

Anyways, I just wanted to post this so this blog site doesn't think I'm a spam-blog, as it did a few days ago.