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.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Sunday, July 20, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
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.
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.
Friday, June 20, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
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.
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.
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