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Archive for July, 2010

The Virginia Blues

Monday, July 26th, 2010

After flying back to Roanoke, I was back on the trail a week after I had left. It didn’t seem quite fair, taking seven weeks to walk from Georgia to Roanoke, while covering that same distance with a one hour flight. My mom’s funeral service in Tulsa was very nice, and a great testament to her wonderful life. One of the things the Pastor brought out was her love of fishing. She may be fishing in Heaven right now, where your line never gets tangled up, the sun always shines, the wind never blows hard, and you catch a big fish on every cast. What a deal!

After seven weeks on the trail, I was getting quite accustomed and comfortable with trail life. So much so, that while in the airport, I just couldn’t sit still. I had to get up and walk up and down the concourse rather than just sitting and waiting for the plane. It’s what I do—walk. After visiting the restroom, or as we call it on the trail, the privy, I was a little surprised to have the toilet flush, soap dispense, and water come automatically. I was looking for the little bucket of leaves and forest duff to put into the toilet (as we do on the trail), when it just automatically flushed without me doing anything. It was weird, going past hundreds of people in the airport, and they don’t even make eye contact with you, let alone say hi. On the AT, we cherish those moments when we come upon strangers to visit with. At the very least, we greet each other with a, “hi, how ya’ doin?” Often we’ll visit for several minutes about the trail, where they are from, what they’ve experienced, etc.

One of the reasons I have always loved backpacking is that it brings life down to it’s most basic level. It’s a matter of food, water, shelter, and clothing for the most part. All you need to live on for many days goes into a pack on your back. It’s a reminder to me of all the things that most of us in America have and take for granted, like a good house to live in, cars to drive wherever we want, fast food, clean water at our fingertips, etc. It really wasn’t long ago that we in America had to fight for these basic necessities of life like water, food, shelter, and clothing. Now, at least for most of us, we have no worry about these necessities, while worrying about the accumulation of much more “stuff” that we think is so important.

For some Americans though, and many more in other countries, these basic necessities are not a given. Some of the tulsa charities we are supporting through AT2010 meet those basic needs of people in the Tulsa area and beyond. Habitat for Humanity provides decent housing and a roof over the head for deserving families. The Salvation Army provides temporary housing for the homeless, and meals for the hungry as part of their mission. Many of us in America are blessed with abundant material possessions. We don’t have to worry about finding clean water, as I’ve had to do while on the AT. We don’t just sleep in a shelter as I do on the trail, but live in homes with, lets face it, more than enough space than we need. I grew up living in a home with a 1-car garage and one bathroom, but in America today, that’s the exception and not the rule.  We had one black & white television, but now most of us have two or even more big screen color televisions in our homes.

There’s nothing wrong with progress. In fact, it can be a real blessing. But backpacking always brings me back to reality.  It gives me more appreciation for what we do have and the conveniences of modern life.  And, we really don’t need a lot of the stuff we think we need in life. I’m probably happier on the AT than I am at home or work, who knows. Ask my wife and my employees. I don’t have a lot of stuff on my back either, as it just adds to the burden of carrying it. I think that sometimes the stuff we carry with us can weigh us down. Maybe we should just lighten the load and get rid of it.

The AT does bring home the fact that as humans, our need for relationships with other people is just as strong as the basic needs for food and water. I’m often hiking alone. I crave for those brief times when I can meet and visit with people. I enjoyed the time that I shared with my friend Steve, my wife, and with new trail buddies I’ve hooked up with. There are some days that I just see a few people, and it gets lonely. Other days, I’ve met and visited with some great and interesting people, sharing a shelter or hostel with some, eating dinner with a few, and hiking with a few that could keep up with me.

In the many books I’ve read on the AT, many talk about how thru-hiking the AT will change you. I’m only 1/3rd of the way there, so I’m anxious to see how this change evolves in me. I can sense though, that through taking on an adventure like hiking the Appalachian Trail, I will become more appreciative of what we do have (like cold Cokes on a hot summer day), even more willingness to share in those blessings, and more aware, sensitive, and communicate more to people we meet every day while doing life.

As for now though, I’ve got to get to Harper’s Ferry by August 10th at the latest. That’s the midway point on the AT, from which I’ll fly back home for a week, and then fly up to Maine to begin my southbound trip back down to Harper’s Ferry. It’s called a flip-flop hike, which about 15% of the thru-hikers do. I’m looking forward to getting out of this Virgina heat, and enjoy the cooler temperatures up north, while taking some time to catch and eat some trout in those streams and lakes up north. It’s all about food, water, clothing, shelter, and fishing you know.

After flying back to Roanoke, I stayed at the same Holiday Inn Express, picked up my pack, and headed up to the AT. For some reason I was a little hesitant about getting back on the trail after being home for a week. It had been an emotional week. On the way up the trail, I had to call a disgruntled customer who accused us of killing his lawn, and he had prayed about it and decided to take us to court.  OK.  After a 20-minute conversation going nowhere (we did not kill his lawn), I was suddenly glad to be back on the AT.

Jurassic 2 from Switzerland

The weather became very hot, as I hiked the 17.5 miles up to Boblets Gap Shelter. Water was getting scarce as many small streams and springs were drying up. Hikers were getting scarce now, due mainly to the hot weather, which is not conductive to backpacking. I did meet and hike with a young man from Switzerland named Jurassic 2. He was hiking through Virginia To Harper’s Ferry, after completing the first section in the southern Appalachians last year. He plans to complete it all eventually. Over the next few days, we leaped frogged each other several times, as we were going at about the same pace.

The next day was even tougher, with soaring temperatures in the mid-90’s going 18.4 miles to Cornelius Creek Shelter. Some of the climbs in central Virginia were feeling a lot like Georgia, with long, steep climbs over 2,000′. I had a tough climb that afternoon up to Cornelius, dragging in about 7:00 with just enough time for dinner, a quick wash in the small creek, and hitting the sack by 9:00. I again had the shelter to myself, except for the mice I heard scurrying around that night.

Crossing the James River Footbridge at the end of a long hot day.

The next day was going to be tough, with the temperatures getting even hotter and 20 miles to go. My destination was the James River, where a trail angel named Ken Wallace would meet me at 5:30 to take me to Glascow, a small town six miles away. I was right on time, but wore myself out getting there on time. The heat was really getting to me, causing cramps all over my body. I’ve noticed that as I’ve gotten older, I just wilt in the heat. It’s my limiting factor. Ken took me to get a burger, fries, and Coke, and then dropped me off at the new town shelter with an outdoor shower.

My schedule had me doing a 22 mile slack pack to Buena Vista the next day, staying at the Budget Inn. I was really looking forward to a nice bed, air conditioning, real food, shower, and watching the Cardinals beat up on the Cubs on Sunday night baseball. I was feeling so tired, and with the weather as it is, I decided that there was no way I could do a 22 miler. So, Ken graciously agreed to take me to where I left off the day before, and pick me up on the Blue Ridge Parkway at 1:15. I thought that would give me plenty of time for the 11 miles, especially slack packing. I had done a 31, 28, and 24 milers, so even though I had some big climbs, I thought I’d be fine, giving me a shorter day to re recuperate from the heat.

The stress from the heat, and hiking almost 60 miles over the past few days caught up with me. Over 3,000′ in hard climbs and heat indexes over 100 made me wilt. My legs were like rubber, with a shortness of breath on the uphill climbs. It had become an endurance test, just make it through the hike. I did run up on another bear this day. I heard a crash in the trees about 70′ ahead of me, as a small bear fell out of a tree and fell to the ground with a loud thump. It got up and scurried down the hill and quickly disappeared into the woods

It was 2:15 before I made it to the road, where Ken was waiting for me to take me to Buena Vista. I was exhausted and cramping up. It was a good decision to break up the 22 mile day into 2 lighter days. However, this day was far from easy, even though the mileage was less. If this excessive heat does not let up, I’m going to have to adjust my schedule so that I’m hiking mainly in the mornings, with fewer miles, and more slack packing. I have a little more than 200 miles to make it to Harper’s Ferry, and it’s going to be tough in this weather. I’m accustomed to backpacking the Colorado Rockies, where it seldom even gets above 80, and gets cool with every mountain shower.

The following morning Ken, my Trail Angel, picked me up at the Budget Inn and drove me up to the Blue Ridge Parkway where I had left off the day before.  I was still tired and worn out, but figured that with slightly cooler weather, only 1,000′ or so of climbing today with more downhill, and just 11 total miles, I’d be good to go the next day.  Something was wrong with my body.  On any uphill climbs, I just had nothing in my tank.  I took many breaks that day, stopping to swim in a cold stream for an hour, and layed by a lake for 45 minutes.  It didn’t help.  I’ve had some hard days on the AT, but it became apparent to me, especially after talking with my wife (RN by trade), that I’d experienced heat exhaustion with the extreme temperatures.  I’ve been there before once at work about 10 years ago, and it was the same feeling that kept getting worse every day.  The way I felt, there was no way I could strap that backpack on the next day, with a hard 2,000′ climb right off the bat, and go 16 miles.

I determined, as much as I hated to, to take a zero day in Buena Vista and let my body rest and recover.  My appetite was gone, which is not normal for a thru-hiker.  Cold Cokes even were not sounding that great all at once.  For the first time in my adventure, I’m actually a little scared about how my body is responding to the stress of this adventure.  Taking off a week to go home hurt my momentum also, as I was really feeling good before then.  And, the grief of my Mom passing away sinking in now, missing my family, and a son fighting in Afghanistan are all having an affect on my mental and emotional outlook.

Most of the books I’ve read on the AT talk about the Virginia Blues.  Virginia is a long state–with about 1/4th of the AT within it’s borders.  It’s been described as a long, green tunnel, and I can see why.  The trail is mainly through the woods, and more woods, with mountaintop vistas and valleys few and far between.  Many hikers struggle through this long, somewhat boring section, and I can see why.  Some become blue, and even quit in this section.  Virginia is a beautiful state, but a thru-hiker needs to endure alot of hiking through woods that all looks the same in order to experience those brief encounters with landscape variety and beauty.

The trail has become lonely, with the absence of many thru-hikers and even section hikers.  Most days I may see one or two people.  It’s just too hot for people to want to be out hiking in this weather.  I’m wondering if it’s too hot for me to make it to Harper’s Ferry.  I’m only two weeks away from my mid-point.  I was doing so well before this week, but I’ve just hit a wall.  Most thru-hikes hit at least one wall during their journey, and I’m definitely there.  So I’m trying to enjoy my zero day here in Buena Vista and see if I can get back to where I was.  Not much to do here in this little town, so it’s not a great zero day stop.  I will make it, but I’m learning to be flexible, and listen to my body.  The good news is once I go up to Maine in August and head south, I’ll be hiking in mainly 70 and 80 degree weather, and sometimes even cooler.  That’s fine with me, as I know I can go hard as long as the temperatures are below 90.  And, heading south, I can take even longer, as I can finish in late October, or early November even.  Luke, my youngest son, has accused me of having to slow down so much that he can come hike with me over his Thanksgiving break, as I may still be going south.

Whatever.  This is AT2010, so technically, I do have the whole calendar year to complete this deal.  Right now, it’s not just a compassionate journey, it’s a very hot and difficult journey, but one that will be made.

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Posted in AT2010, Appalachian Trail, Charity, Tulsa Charity, Virginia | 5 Comments »

The Hand of God

Wednesday, July 14th, 2010

It had to happen eventually.  After over six weeks of hiking on the Appalachian Trail, I was finally passed by a thru-hiker who left after my departure date of May 28th.  At mile 713, I was passed by a young 22-year old recent college grad from Maine, Apocalypse.  At about 7:00 last night at Lamberts Meadow Shelter, he had come in after going his typical 20 mile day.  He’s not had a zero day either since he left Springer Mountain the first week of June, a little more than a week after me.  He was hiking with a buddy, who hurt himself as they were going so fast, and had to drop off the trail.  With the job market as it is, he decided to take the summer to hike the AT.  He’s good, young, lean, and fast.  I left the shelter at 6:35 yesterday morning to make the 10 miles down to Troutville before noon for my next well-deserved zero day.  After about four miles, I heard Apocalypse clanking up the trail at well over 3 mph, which is fast for the AT.  We hiked together for awhile, but I let him pass me.  Oh well.

Maybe 34 years ago I could keep up with him, but not now.  I know my physical limitations, and I’m not going to kill myself to keep up with him.  I watched the MLB All-Star Game last night, and didn’t see any players over 40.  Most are in their 20’s and early 30’s.  Age happens, and it diminishes some of our physical abilities and skills.   While hiking the AT is very physically demanding, it is not all about speed, strength, and physical skills.  It’s mainly mental, with passion,  determination, and as my son says stubbornness playing a major role, which is where I have the advantage over most.  This deal is not all about me–it’s about others, about showing compassion.  That’s why after over six weeks, I have passed about 30 thru-hikers that I know of, hundreds of section hikers, and probably well over 1,000 hikers who intended to thru-hike, but have quit before even making to central Virginia where I am right now.  In fact, 30% don’t even make it out of Georgia.

After leaving Pearisburgh last week, the weather was hot, dry, and the steams and springs were drying up.  Finding good water was becoming an issue, so I was carrying more water than before.  It was a long stretch of about 90 miles before my next hotel and re-supply stop in Troutville, so I had to find a way to re-supply, take a shower, do laundry, etc.  Ron, the local hiker who I had hiked with going into Bland last week, had the solution.  He knew a young

Ron, my new hiking buddy from Virginia, taking a break at a stream.

couple that lived up in the mountains, not far from the AT.  He had been J.B. Bean’s pastor and worked with him when he was a youth at church camp.  So Ron gave me their number, and J.B. and his wife Dannette graciously agreed to pick me up along one of the small Virginia roads which cross the AT, about halfway into my 94 mile journey to Troutville.

My re-supply package had not made it to Pearisburgh, so I had to stop at the local grocery store to buy stuff to eat for the next few days.    After getting the best $10 buzz haircut and beard trim I’ve ever had (sorry Ronnie), eating at a great little Mexican restaurant, and going for a brief swim, had a good night of sleep at the Motel in Pearisburgh.  

Running a ridge in Virgina

I had over 20 miles to cover on my way up to Pine Branch Shelter.  After a quick and pretty good breakfast at the Dairy Queen, I walked the mile down to where the AT come into Pearisburgh and headed north.  After crossing over a large bridge over the New River, the trail eventually headed up another ridge with a climb of about 2,000′.  That’s pretty common now in Virginia–climbing up to run a ridge (where I can sometimes get good cell phone coverage), with some ups and downs on top, and then dropping into a valley or town.  Then you climb to the next ridge and run it awhile.  I’m trying to plan so that the big climbs are in the cooler mornings, when I am fresher.  After actually taking a brief nap around noon, I headed off up the trail, and as I turned the corner, there was a big, beautiful, black bear in the trail just looking at me.  I scrambled to pull out my camera and IPhone to get a picture, as he was just looking at me for about 8 seconds.  He then scurried up into the woods, but stopped again to look back at me to check me out.  I then got a picture, which you can barely see the big black bear in the woods.  He (I’m assuming it was a male, as I didn’t see any cubs) was beautiful, and I’m glad he was scared of humans, as they almost always are in Virginia I’ve been told by Ron.

The black furry blob in the middle is a black bear. He was up the mountain in a flash.

I saw few people on the trail that day, but did run into a southbound section hiker, who reminded me of a place to sty called The Captain’s Place.  I remember seeing it in one of my books, but had forgotten about it.  It was about a mile past my intended destination, so after visiting with a hiker at the shelter, told her I was moving on to stay at The Captain’s Place.  On down the trail, I walked along a large stream, and came upon a zip line leading to a home on the other side of the creek.  The Captain’s two black dogs greeted me with their friendly barking and wanting to play sticks, as I zipped

The Captain zipping my pack accross the creek

first my pack and them myself across the creek.  The Captain is a Marine Vietnam Vet, who has welcomed hikers into his home for years.    After greeting me, he gave me a cold pop from his fridge, which I quickly gulped, and then drank another.  He had a towel and washcloth ready for me to take a shower, as I was drenched in sweat and dirty from the long, hot day.  He allows hikers to pitch their tents in his lawn, but since I was the only hiker there that day, I slept in in by bag on his cool, back porch.   After cooking my dinner, and drinking more pops (they were are so good after a long day of hiking), we visited in his living room for over an hour, before hitting the  sack.  The Captain works at the big plant outside of Pearisburgh, which manufactures much of the material that is in cigarette filters and other products.  He was going to work early, and told me to just fix a pot of coffee, make myself at home, and leave whenever I wanted to.  Since I had a shorter day the next day, I was going to sleep in somewhat and take my time in the morning to enjoy a rare cup of coffee.

The Captain

The Captain is one of the reasons the AT is such a unique experience.  Here’s a guy who welcomes total strangers into his home, trusts them, gives them free pop, and asks nothing in return.  What a guy!  He has hiked much of the AT in sections, and in fact he’s hiking the 100 mile wilderness in Maine and up to Mt. Katahdin in mid to late August with two other ladies.  That’s when I’ll be heading south from Katahdin, so I’ll probably run into him then.  I enjoyed my time at the Captains Place.  It’s too bad we don’t share with and help others as much as we should, many whom we even know, as the Captain does with weary hikers whom he doesn’t even know.

The next day I met Danette, J.B.’s wife, down at the road which crosses the AT.  It was a beautiful hike of about 10 miles, so was there by noon to wait for her.  She had to go to Blacksburgh for a

Dannette on her porch in SW Virginia

Wal Mart stop, which was about 20 minutes down the road.  Blacksburgh reminds me of Stillwater, and Virginia Tech reminds me of Oklahoma State, my university.  After buying more trail food, eating at Wendy’s and drinking plenty of cold Coke, we went up to their home in the country.  The Virginia valleys are beautiful.  Their home overlooked a small valley with forested hills all around, with National Forest all around.  After taking a shower, doing laundry, and resting somewhat, I decided to press on the next 10 miles to Niday Shelter.  They had invited me to stay the night, but I was feeling great, and for some reason felt like I needed to get to Troutville earlier.  My mom was very ill, and I was thinking that I may need to get home before I hit Harper’s Ferry.  So after Dannette drove me the eight miles or so to the trail head where she had picked me up earlier, I was back on the AT at about 4:30.

I flew up the trail, with a climb of about 1,500′ before hitting the ridge.  Along the way, I passed the largest Oak tree on the southern AT–the Kiefer Oak.  It was huge, with a girth of 18′.  It’s estimated to be 300 years old–even older than our country!  With the sun getting lower into the evening, it was slightly cooler, so I covered the 10 miles at a pace of almost 3 mph, which is fast.  I hit Niday Shelter well before dark, where two young college students, Nick and Brian from Richmond, were there.  After another yummy dinner, I hit the sack at hiker bedtime–about 9:00.

The Kiefer Oak Tree

I got up early and left, determined to hike the 24 miles to Catawba, where a great place to eat was located.  The Homeplace is a famous all you can eat restaurant, located in the rural Catawba valley.  I was ready to eat, and eat well, so I moved at a quick pace to get there before the 6:00 closing time.  All was going well, until I hit the climb up to Dragon’s Tooth.   The guidebook showed it to me a moderate climb up and down, but it turned out to be one of the toughest 4 mile sections I’ve encountered on the AT.  It was steep and rocky.  It was very hot, and I was running out of water again.  After finally reaching the top, the trail led down steep rocky inclines, many of which I had to scoot down on my rear.  I was doing good to go at a pace of about .5 mph, picking down the steep, rocky path.  I have heard of too many hikers slipping, falling, and ending their trip with a broken ankle or leg, sprained ankle, or other injuries, so I try to be very deliberate and careful in these situations.  I decided that I was not going to make the 24 mile hike, and could catch an earlier road which would still take me into Catawba so I could eat at the Homeplace.  I had to eat there at all costs.  Good food is precious on the AT, especially for me in my attempt to keep a decent amount of weight on. 

Dragon's Tooth Trail

 At about 3:30, I made it down to VA 785 and hitched a ride for the 5 miles or so up the valley to the Homeplace.  I was hot, tired, and thirsty, after 16.5 miles of hard hiking.  It was busy on this Sunday afternoon as usuall, so still had to wait awhile even in late afternoon to get my table.  I was not dissapointed.  They served bowls of fried chicken, roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, cole slaw, beans, baked apples, rolls, lemonade, cherry cobler with ice cream, and of course, cold pop.  I got my money’s worth and took my time, taking time to visit again with a family of folks from all over on a family reunion, whom I’d met on the trail down Dragon’s Tooth who were there for dinner also. 

After dinner, I walked down the road to the Catawba General Store.  Although they were closed, they allow hikers to camp behind their store in the lawn, so I made my bed in the grass there behind a shed.  It was the first time I’d camped out in the open away from trees or a shelter, so I could actually see the stars appear in the night sky for the first time.  I wondered If my Son Jake was looking at the same stars from his vantage point in Afghanistan.

The next day the store was open, so I bought some breakfast there, got some fresh Power Aids for the trip, and had a cold Pepsi for the road.  After easily hitching a ride back up to where I had kicked off the AT the previous day, I was back on the trail again.  It was great hiking, through some private farmland in the valley with easments through them.  I loved hiking through these sections, as it was a good change in scenery from miles upon miles of nothing but dense

Early morning in the Catawba Valley

trees and forrest.  My eyeballs have probably set eye on millions of trees by now.  I like trees, but it’s obvious that I love the grasslands.  That’s how I make my living–caring for grass.  I love to see the expanse of the landscape, with the great varieties of grasses, wildflowers, with the backdrop of towering mountains.  Much of the valleys are private land though, so the government has either purchased small sections or have easments through these lands where the AT is located. 

Looking out on top of McAfee Knob in the rain

I took many breaks this day, as the scenery was beautiful, going from the grassy meadows up to the rocky cliffs and mountain ledges.  I had about 16.8 miles to cover, but the weather turned cooler, as I had to bring out my rain jacket for the first time in almost four weeks.  I walked the gradual climb  up to McAfee Knob in the light rain, reaching the top just in time for lunch.  I was greeted by a nice group of five ladies from Virginia and West Virginia, out on a day hike.  We visited for about 15 minutes, took pictures of each other, and they shared some fresh brownies with me.  After they left, I had to huddle under my tarp to eat my lunch out of the rain.  The trail continued along the ridge, dipping into the forrest, and then rising up along the cliffs.  With the rain, I was up in the clouds, so did not enjoy what normally would be a great view down into the valley. 

It began to rain very hard a little after lunch, so I was passing a shelter and decided to duck in for a break and wait out the rain.  After sweltering in the heat the previous day, I got chilled today, but it felt pretty good.  I laid in the shelter just listening to the rain for almost two hours, collecting rainwater from the roof for my water bottles.  As the rain let up, I geared up and headed up the trail, passing along Tinker Cliffs a few hours later.  By this time, the clouds had lifted somewhat, allowing a partial view down into the valley below.  It was beautiful. 

Looking out over Tinker Cliffs

The clouds lift along Tinker Cliffs

I was only a mile or so from my destination, Lamberts Meadow Shelter, reaching it about 6:00 to be greeted by Rich, a section hiker from Conneticut.  Rich has been hiking part of the AT for many years, with this being his last section in Virgina to complete.  Later that evening, Speedy Gonzales, the young thru-hiker from Maine I referenced earlier showed up, but he hadn’t passed me yet!  You know the drill–another yummy dinner and off to bed at 8:30 or so. 

Upon hiking 10 miles and reaching the town of Troutville, I walked about 1/4th of a mile up to Wendy’s for an early lunch at 11:00.  Hamburgers, fries, and Cokes taste so good after being on the trail.  It was about 1.2 miles down the highway and up another highway to the the Holiday Inn Express, so I tried to hitch.  After more than 200 cars drove by, I gave up.  What a difference it makes hitching a ride in the city on a busy street with busy drivers leading busy lives, versus hitching a ride in rural areas, where I sometimes got a ride with the first thumb in the air.  So I just walked along the busy highway, and I was really glad to see the nice, new Holiday Inn Express.

After a good shower, washing all my very dirty clothes, I picked up my package from home.  I was anxiously waiting not just the re-supply, but a Fathers Day letter from my son Jake that he’d written from Afghanistan and sent home.  Becky put it into the box for me to read.   Allow me to be very personal, as I read a brief excerpt from his letter, which had me in laughter, and in tears at the same time.  Jake was giving me some advice on how to conquer the AT.

“There have been many times in the lst year; Crucible, SOI Hikes, long runs, 3 day patrol here, where I thought I was done and couldn’t take another step.  Once you break through that barrier in your mind the first time you can do it anytime you want.  It wasn’t muscles or fitness that got me through, just plain determination.  Anytime you think you might be wearing down just think of me out here.  I had all my gear plus a missle and we had to run up the mountain under fire to get a javelin shot cause there was a squad of Marines pinned down on the other side.  Halfway up I was gone but I knew my brothers on the other side needed the missle on my back to move.  It felt like someone had their hand on my back pushing me uphill and I ended up being the first one up to the top.  I knew it was an Angel just shoving me up the mountain.  I say a prayer for you multiple times every day.  Just take it day by day, step by step, and stay focused on your gaol and I know you will get there sooner or later.”

Jake with his 60 lb. Javelin Missle on his back. My little 29 lb backpack is like a walk in the park compared to his 100 lbs of gear, dodging bullets, in 130 degree heat.

Jake’s javelin missle took care of business by the way and freed up those Marines.  He has taken care of many scumbags during his deployement there.  There is no doubt in my mind, that it was the Hand of God, in the form of an Angel, leading and pushing Jake up that hill.  He and his fellow Marines are in my and many others prayers constantly.  He is one of the big reasons I am supporting the Folds of  Honor Foundation as one of the charities in this AT2010 Compassionate Journey.  There have been soldiers from Jake’s unit killed in action, some with families, and they deserve our support and help.  I am very proud of Jake (as I am all of our kids) and am looking forward to seeing him again in a few months as he greats his new twin daughers into their growing family.

That same Hand of God has been very evident to me as He is all over this journey.  In Psalms 139:5, scripture says, “You have enclosed me behind and before, And laid your hand upon me.”  While my journey and current mission is not nearly as dangerous and important as Jake’s, it’s what I was born to do at this point in my life.  Hiking the AT is my mission.  I just don’t have to worry about stepping on an IED, or being shot at by cowards in turbins.  Nontheless, that same Hand of God has guided me every step of the way.  I see it in the people who help me, who are supporting me, in my circumstances and the things that occur along the trail.  I have felt times that physically He has helped me, and He is here.  And as Christians, we should be seeing and feeling that Hand of God in all that we do, whether in working, in our families, in school, at Church, at war, or in hiking the Appalachian Trail.

I could not sleep well last night.  After staying up till midnight to watch the National League finally win an All-Star Game, I just dozed until 4:00.  All the Cokes and sweet tea I had during the early and late dinner I had may have contibuted, but for some reason, I was in tears at 4:00 as I was thinking about my ailing mother, and Jake in harms way.  As I was starting to write this blog this morning at the hotel, my wife called in tears and informed me that my Mom had passed away in her sleep, it seems at about the same time I was in tears.  Mom has battled many health problems for the past four years, and within the past few weeks has taken a turn for the worse.  A few weeks ago, I was thinking that I may not make it to Harper’s Ferry for the halfway point on my journey on August 2nd, as I would need to come home.  Her health was one of the factors in my decision as to whether to hike the AT this year or not.  Mom assured me many times that she wanted me to do this, and not to worry about her.  That was just like her–to want the best for her son.

The week  before Mom died, my wife was reading Psalms 139 to Mom.   She understood, and was coherent, which has not been consistent for the past week or so.  Mom is now in those same  Hands of God now–forever.  It’s right where she needs to be, and where I’ve prayed for her to be for sometime now.   I’ll be taking a break from the AT for about a week, flying home in the morning, but hitting the trail again next week sometime more determined than ever.  I was getting on a roll, stabilizing my trail weight at about 170 lean pounds, with healthy feet, and feeling great.  After almost seven weeks of living on the trail, it was beginning to feel comfortable.  But it will be good to be at home and see my family.  And, my son Luke will be able to add to my little collection of music and podcasts on my IPod.  I’m getting a little tired of listening to the same stuff day after day.

A Brad Paisley song I’ve heard countless times during the past few weeks actually speaks of the Hand of God.  I suggested we play it during Mom’s funeral service, but my wife didn’t think that would be good.  She said we could do it me me when I die, which would be fine with me.  Here’s how some of the lyrics go:

When I get where I’m goin’ ,  they’ll be only happy tears.  I will shed the sins and struggles I have carried all these years.   And I’ll leave my heart wide open.  I will love and have no fear.   Yea when I get where I’m goin’, Don’t cry for me down here.   When I get where I’m goin’, and I see my maker’s face.  I’ll stand forever in the light of His amazing grace! 

I thank God that my mother, who helped mold me into who I am today.  We were able to share our lives on earth for 56 years of my life.  She’s had a great life on earth for 87 years, with a great marriage of over 60 years to my Dad.  She and Dad dropped off my brother and I on our very first backpacking trip in the mountains of Colorado when I was about 14 years old.  She even went on one with us when her and Dad were in late 40’s or early 50’s I believe.  She is where she needs to be now though–in the perfect Hands of God. 

If I take the wings of the dawn, If I dwell in the remotest part of the sea, Even there Your Hand will lead me, and Your right hand will lay hold of me. Psalms 139:9-10

 

Posted in AT2010, Afganistan, Appalachian Trail, Charity, Marines, Prayer, Virginia | 22 Comments »

Lost

Wednesday, July 7th, 2010

It was sad to say bye to my wife again for another month as I was dropped off on the AT just north of Atkins, VA. It was a beautiful cool day under bright blue skies as I headed north through a hillside pasture before once again entering the woods. I just had under 13 miles to the next shelter that day, so I took my time, taking lots of breaks to enjoy the trail. It was a little bit of a sad and lonely day this Friday, with Becky leaving and knowing my mom back home in Tulsa was in the hospital again. I only saw one hiker that day, Old School, a thru-hiker from New York I’d passed a few days ago. He was slack packing southbound that day.

I was in at Knot Maul shelter at 3:00, and was tempted to go further. It was 9 miles to the next shelter though, and I was determined to take it easy on my feet and not wear myself out so much. So after getting my pack unpacked and laying out my sleeping bag, I actually took a nap!  Now that’s a first! After re-planning the next few weeks of my hike to allow for a little less miles per day and eating dinner, I just relaxed by the shelter.

At about 6:45, a lone hiker with a full beard and single wooden hiking stick pulled up from the south. Ron was a local guy, maybe a little younger than I (as most are), who was out on a weekend section hike. It was great to have good company, as he was a fascinating guy with a lot of good information on the AT and backpacking in general. Ron has a computer consulting company, is a part-time preacher at a small church in Virginia, just one mile from the North Carolina border, and he farms a little also.

Later that evening, three young thru-hikers rolled in looking tired. We visited briefly about the water there and I asked when they started from Georgia, as I always do. They responded in early May. So when I told them I started on May 28th, they all had this exasperated look on their face like, how do you do that, old man? I must have passed them last week somewhere not knowing it. They were still asleep the next morning as I left the shelter a little after 7:00, and I’m sure they’ll be eating my dust hereafter.

Ron the preacher, farmer, and computer consultant left Knot Maul before the sun came up, not even eating breakfast. I have to eat, as I’m not going to loose weight as I’d done earlier. The day started cool, but quickly warmed under blue skies again. The cooler weather we had enjoyed this past week was giving way to hot temperatures again, making the afternoon hiking more strenuous.  I crossed on of the last big balds I’ll see, Chestnut Knob, with great views into Virginia and back to Tennessee and North Carolina.

The guide book showed much of this section to the northeast much flatter, after a few moderate climbs. But as often is the case, the average may be flat, but it was constant small climbs and dips, over rocks, with lots of turns. My hike this day was 19 miles by the guidebook, but it seemed that Jenkins Shelter would never get here. I was out of water, getting hot and tired, as I finally made it to the shelter at about 5:45. Ron, my new trail-mate, had just pulled in also, visiting with a section hiker named Bruce, a teacher from Raleigh. After another dinner of freeze-dried spaghetti and cheesecake for dessert, I hit the sack early.

View from another ridgeline in Virginia

Ron again took off a little earlier than I, but after catching up, we hiked the 11 miles or so to the highway leading to Bland, VA. The trail looked exactly on paper like the section yesterday, but it was entirely different. Gradual and moderate climbs and dips, no rocks, with smooth wide paths of leaves, needles, or dirt. We cruised down easily, to be greeted with some trail magic about 1/2 mile from the end. There on the trail was a plastic bag full if iced cold Cokes and Mountain Dew. They had been left that morning, as the ice was not even melted. Probably someone on their way to church on this Sunday morning, wanting to do a little trail magic, which I hear in these parts just may get you into heaven!

Ron and I caught a ride into Bland with the first thumb I put up, and walked a few blocks up to the Dairy Queen which is on I-77 exit at Bland. Eating a big cheeseburger, fries, Mountain Dew, and a big Blizzard sure tastes great after a few days of granola bars, Gatorade, and trail food.

Doing laundry at the Big Walker Motel in Bland

After telling Ron goodbye, I checked into the Big Walker Motel, your typical old motel off the interstate in a small town. My adjusted schedule called for me to go 23 miles this day, after 19 yesterday, with another 20.5 the following day to take it to Woods Hole Hostel. My right leg was getting sore though in a tendon behind my knee, causing me to slow down on downhill or level sections. The weather was getting hot again. So I altered my schedule to take this light day and rest my leg, shower, do laundry in the motel bathtub, and yes– eat three great meals at the DQ and Subway there at the Bland exit. I also needed to charge up all my electronics, as they were about out of juice. So I decided to break up my two hard days into three lighter days, and give up my planned zero day coming up this week in Pearsburgh and still be on schedule. Normally, I would press on, but I’m forcing myself to go slower, listen to my body, and be flexible enough change my plans if needed. I feel my strength coming back with the weight I’ve put back on, so I must keep that up, and not allow any other body parts to get out of whack. My boots are helping my feet feel much better, with very little pain now. That has really helped a bunch!

I was surprised to see Daniel, the young thru-hiker from Georgia Tech, at the Big Walker when I pulled in. He had spent the night there, as he was getting tired and felt sick, and his boots were wearing out. He seemed discouraged, so that night I bought his dinner at the Dairy Queen down the road. I had time that afternoon to do my laundry in the bathtub, hanging my clothes out on the sunny balcony to dry off. It was the first 4th of July I can remember without seeing or hearing a single firework go off, as I spent a quiet, relaxing evening at the Big Walker, surfing the TV channels with the remote. I was hoping to see my Cardinals play baseball on Sunday night baseball, but was not that lucky, as the Angels were blowing out the Royals that night.

Bruce, Daniel, and I had agreed to meet at the Subway down the road at 7:15 to eat breakfast, and then catch a ride for the four miles back up to the AT trail-head. After knocking on Daniel’s door, it appeared he was sleeping in again, so we went ahead and left. We were on the trail by 8:00, with the goal of about 20 miles to camp somewhere in the woods, making the next day an easier 12 miles to the next hostel.

The day started out fairly mild, as they often do, but the heat started building quickly again. I was hiking at a faster pace than Bruce, so I headed on up, making great time by covering 10 miles to reach Jenny Knob Shelter at 12:30. I set my pack down at the table, got my two water bottles, and proceeded to follow the blue blazed trail leading to the spring for water. I was completely out of water, thirsty, and was going to take a quick break in the cool of the shelter before heading on out.

The creek was bone dry. I proceeded up stream, hiking over rocks, to try to find a little spring or pocket of water. There was nothing. So I followed the dry creek down, hoping to find an active spring with cool water coming out. Nothing still. The next water source according to the guide book was about 8 miles away, so I had to find water here, or I would be in trouble.  Still following the dry creek bed, it turned back north somewhat, and eventually I found another dry creek bed coming in from up higher. I proceeded to then follow it down until there at last, was a little pocket of somewhat clear, cold water.

It really wasn’t running much, but it was cold, which was a good sign. It smelled a little funny though, as was somewhat stagnant, so I had plans on boiling it before drinking it, rather than using the purification tablets I usually use. After getting a full 2 liters, I proceeded to head up the hill somewhat Southeast, which is the direction I felt the shelter was.  I normally have a pretty good sense of directions, but as I kept going uphill, I did not see any sign of a shelter.  I then re-traced my steps, and went up again to where the shelter should be, but all I could see was woods, rocks, bushes, and more woods. I zigged, and zagged, went up to a high knob to see further, all to no avail. After about 45 minutes of wandering in the woods, I was officially lost! I had heard stories about people getting lost in the woods and just meandering till they die, and I thought, that can’t be me!  I hollered out a few times, thinking that Bruce, Daniel, or some other hikers may have made it down to Jenny Knob Shelter, but all I could hear was the sounds of the woods.

So still carrying the two water bottles, full of water that I could not drink yet, I decided to just head uphill until I eventually hit the AT, and then find my way back to Jenny Knob. I climbed and climbed, thinking surely I did not wander this far in my search for water. After about 15 minutes of climbing through the brush and woods, I finally reached the thoroughfare of the AT. Now, I had to decide should I go north or south, to reach the blue blaze trail going down to the shelter.  My hunch was I had wandered too far south, so I headed up the trail north.

After hiking about 1/4th of a mile, I did not reach the trail to the shelter, so I decided that maybe I wandered the other way.  So I went back to where I had caught the AT, and proceeded another 1/4th mile south. No shelter. So I turned around, went back north, this time about 1/2 mile.  Still, no blue blaze trail to the shelter. By this time, I was getting a little mad and frustrated. I was thirsty and hot, but the water bottles were of no use. I did not want to drink the water, and take a chance on getting sick. I reversed directions and went back north.  You would think that I would recogniz e the trail I had been on, but woods is woods. After almost six weeks of hiking, it all begins to look the same. I finally reached some dry creeks going north that I somewhat remembered crossing a few hours ago now, after wandering for several hours. I finally reached the sign pointing to the blue blazed trail leading to Jenny Knob, a full two and a half hours after going to get water.  Bruce was there, wondering where I was. He had not found any water, but lucky him, the great great great grandson of Zebulon Pike was there to save the day for him, as I had found water! I had also gotten lost,  and wandered the woods, wasting over two hours and a lot of energy in the process.

Trail Magic works again! Cold pop still on ice on a Sunday morning!

So after boiling my precious water, letting it cool somewhat, I proceeded up the trail to my destination. By now it was really hot, and drinking water that was about 160 degrees did not exactly quench my thirst. By about 5:45, we made it down to a large creek that actually had water in it.  I was ahead of Bruce, so I stripped down to my shorts, and took a cooling swim in the creek. That really refreshed me, as we crossed the suspension bridge over to the road. A southbound hiker we had just met told us about a store about half a mile up the road, which was not in my guidebook. Real food and cold drinks sounded really good after a long hot day, so we hiked up the road, not having any luck with hitch-hiking.

At Trent’s Store, I gulped down a big cold Coke, which is what I crave while on the trail for some reason. Had to get some ice cream also, and the cheeseburgers she was cooking sounded a lot better than freeze-dried whatever, so I had a burger and fries also, along with a big root beer. I was energized now, so after hitching a ride back to the trail-head, proceeded to go about two miles or so to find a camping place in the woods.

The lowering of the sun had allowed the woods to cool somewhat, so it was better to hike in the evening. I found a nice Rhododendron patch and made my campsite in the shade of the plants. I ate my second dinner of freeze-dried something, as darkness settled into the forest.

I slept pretty good, except for being awakened in the middle of the night to what sounded like a big animal breathing off in the woods. Ron, my trail-mate from a few days ago, had assured me that bears were rare in Virginia, but whatever it was, it was bigger than a rabbit or a squirrel. I shined my light off to where the sound was coming from, and must have scared it, as the sounds disappeared.

Woods Hole Hostel. It was a little slice of Heaven on a hot day for a tired thru-hiker!

I was off early the next day, hitting the trail at 7:00 in the morning. It was only 12 miles to Woods Hole Hostel, so I was looking forward spending some relaxing time there. It looked like a good hostel on the information I’d read. It was a good day of hiking, reaching Woods Hole at about 1:30 or so. Neville and Michael greeted me, and fixed me a pizza for lunch, along with two ice cold Cokes. Neville’s grandparents had started Woods Hole in the early 80’s, and after the of Neville’s grandmother, she and Michael decided to run it again, adding a bed and breakfast to the hostel operation. The original log cabin was constructed in 1880, with some additions and renovations being done over the years.  It was a somewhat rustic, but modern and quaint place, with a lot of character and charm.  I enjoyed a room upstairs rather than the hostel. Neville fixed a great dinner for three of us hikers that evening, much of it grown from their garden and homemade.

We enjoyed a great breakfast again the next morning, before hitting the trail again at 9:00. I had a somewhat moderate hike this day down to Pearsburgh, where I would stay at the Holiday Motor Lodge, do laundry, get a haircut, relax, and wait for my re-supply package from home. Today, with the somewhat more moderate schedule, all the food I’ve been eating, and with improving feet, I felt as good as I’ve felt since I started.  It’s hot, but I can deal with that.  I got to talk by phone last week with my son, Jake, who is a Marine serving in Afghanistan.  I had not spoken with him for a month, so it was great to hear his voice.  He told me, among other things, that the temperature was 132 degrees the previous day where they are. It’s all relative isn’t it?  I’ll take hiking the AT in America in the mid-90’s any day, compared to hiking in Afghanistan carrying all the gear our Marines carry, dodging IED’s and Taliban bullets all the time. Pray for them, as what they are doing every day, allows us to enjoy what we do as Americans every day.

I’ve got five hard days before hitting Troutville, VA, for my next zero day. I’ll need the off day by then, as I’ve learned the importance of pacing myself, and allowing my body to rest and recuperate. I’m thankful for the support I have from home, and for the continued donations to our charities. It’s been a great experience, but one that has been much more meaningful to me in that I’m doing it not just for myself, but for others. That continues to motivate me as I pound the trail going north.  Nobody has passed me still by the way, even though I’m not trying to make this into a competition, as I continue to pass thru-hikers and section hikers on their way north. If I can just keep from getting lost, I think I’ll make it to Harper’s Ferry for my halftime just fine.

I am going north now aren’t I?

 

Posted in AT2010, Afganistan, Appalachian Trail, Marines | 8 Comments »

Use it or Lose It

Friday, July 2nd, 2010

I was beat, as we dragged into Damascus with temperatures in the mid-90’s last week.  I couldn’t believe the scales when they put in at 157 pounds, but it was true.   Not having a mirror to look at in awhile, I thought, “Is that me I’m looking at?”  After over four weeks of grueling hiking, the hot temperatures had caught up with me, along with fighting aching feet, a bad spider bite, trail food, poor sleep, and the ambitious pace I was on. 

Trail veteran Alpine had warned me just two days into my journey while at Mountain Crossings in Georgia, that I had to eat alot to prevent alot of weight loss.  He thought I should have had a little excess fat on me before starting, but I had actually trimmed myself to a lean and strong 185, with little body fat.  I was wrong.  None of the 15 books I’d read on the AT spoke about this, but an experienced AT thru-hiker and trail veteran knew it.  Nothing is better than learning from someone who has been there and done that.  After burning through my fat, I had started to loose muscle, just as he had warned me about.  And, since the only thing my upper body had done was lifting my pack on my back, my upper body muscles were not getting worked at all.  So, they had begun to atrophy, because I was not using them as I had before.  If you don’t use your muscles, you will loose them.

I could feel my usual strength begin to dissipate, especially that last day heading into Damascus.  My body was spent, so I decided to take a zero day.  My good friend and trailmate Steve had left early that first morning back to Tulsa, so I had all day to post a blog, do laundry, eat, and rest up at the Lazy Fox Inn.  Ms. Ginny Adams has owned and operated the Lazy Fox for the past 18 years.  She is 86 years old, but you would not know it by her energy and demeanor.  We were led to the Lazy Fox by Phil at the Mt. Rogers Outfitters, and I’m glad he did.  It was a Godsend.  It was the last room in town for the night, as there was a big bicycle race that weekend in Damascus. 

Ms. Ginny serving me up another big country breakfast!

Ms. Ginny is a real southern jewel.  Every morning, she gets up to fix a scrumptious breakfast of eggs, bacon, grits, fruit, pancakes, biscuits and gravy, coffee, juice, and other treats for her guests.  ”All I do here keeps me out of the nursing home,” she told me the second morning of my stay.  “I love it,” she said, as she told me of meeting people from all over the country and the world.  ”I put stuff up high, so I have to reach it, which gives me good exercise.  My sons tell me that I don’t need to be doing this, but I just love it,” Ms. Ginny told me with a glean in her eye.  Did I mention Ms. Ginny is 86 years old?  Ms. Ginny reinforced a principle I believe in–use it or lose It!  Just as my upper body muscles had lost some of their strength due to inactivity, our minds and our bodies will also decline if we don’t use them. 

The Lazy Fox Inn at Damascus, Virginia

Ms. Ginny seems to have been blessed with good health.  But she also has determined not to let her age slow her down to a crawl, or stop using her gifts, abilities, and her mind.  It keeps her going.  And, she continues to bless others, such as a tired hiker like me, through her efforts.   Whether it’s our muscles, mind, or even our emotions–such as love and compassion–use em’ or you’ll loose em’!

After my zero day, I was rested and ready to go.  A retired deputy county sheriff named Hughes was ready in his nice red Ford truck early the next day to shuttle me 24 miles up the trail to Elk Meadows, so I could day pack back down to Damascus for another hot shower, bed, and breakfast at the Lazy Fox.  Hughes was in law enforcement for 25 years and was from the area, so he knew it well.  He pointed out one little country church along the way up which had a rock from every state in the country built into the rock exterior. 

The views were awesome from up high, and the weather was nice that morning.  By afternoon, it was hot again.  I passed several groups of teenagers that afternoon, as it must be a popular section for groups like this.  Many were not happy campers, as they were fully loaded down, doing allot of uphill climbing, and it was hot.  A hiker named Jack and his wife from Tennesse were waiting for another group at one of the forest service road crossings late that morning.  They offered me a piece of fried chicken and a cold beer, which yes, I gladly obliged.  Don’t really like beer, but the calories are great, and it actually tasted pretty good out on the trail.   I began to do about 20 pushups several times every day, and even lifting a few heavy rocks over my head to use my upper body muscles some.  Use em’ or loose em’.   Don’t want to look like a whimp when I met my wife Becky in a few days!  I made it into Damascus at about 6:30, and had to get a big ice cream cone and coke at the first stop in town.  I’ve had a craving for ice cold cokes while on the trail.  My feet were tired, but doing better with my new set of Columbia boots that Phil had sold me at Mt. Rogers Outfitters.  After a pizza, salad, and more pop for dinner, I hit the sack and slept in a real bed again–a real treat!

As Hughes again was ready to shuttle me back up to Elk Meadows where I had started the previous day to head north again with my full backpack this time, I said goodbye to Ms. Ginny.  I weighed myself before I left, and she had helped me put on nine pounds, up to a whopping 166!  I told her that after my journey was over, we’re driving back to Tulsa from the east coast, and will be stopping to stay at the Lazy Fox for two nights again, and ride the Virginia Creeper Bike Trail this time while there.    

Heading up to Mt. Rogers in the early morning clouds

A cool front had passed though, and the weather was so much cooler.  I was up high above the clouds as I crossed by Mt. Rogers.  I met up again with a thru-hiker that had started from Georgia about a week prior to me named Daniel.  He’s a young 24-year old college student from Georgia Tech, with just one more class to take before he graduates.  Daniel is a good hiker, but he likes to sleep in.  I was almost two hours into my hike when I met him at a shelter he’d stayed in the previous night.  The previous week, Steve and I woke him up at Cherry Gap Shelter at about 9:00.  We hiked together that morning through Grayson Higlands State Park, with it wide expanse of rocks and grassy areas with panoramic

Daniel is about the only thru-hiker I've found who can hike at my pace.

views.  We were able to see and even pet a few of the wild ponies which live in the park, with one even trying to eat into by backpack in search of granola bars. 

It was a great day of hiking, being out of the dense forest for a change with wide open views.  It reminded me a little of the high country in the Colorado Rockies, which I’ve hiked in for so many years.  It was amazing what a good day of rest, a little more weight on my bones, feet that were improving, and cooler weather did for my body and my mind.  I easily made it the 16.5 miles to Old Orchard Shelter before 5:00 that evening.  Daniel pulled in at 5:30, just as a big thunderstorm swamped us and pelted the area with rain.  He was determined to hike down to the next hostel though, so after waiting about an hour for the storm to pass, he was off down the trail.  I shared some of my hot dinner of  beef stroganoff and chilli mac with Daniel, and was ready to hit the sack, having the shelter all to myself.  He actaully did not make it to the hostel, as I hiked by his tent the next morning a few miles down the trail, as he was sould asleep at about 8:30 or so.  I passed him again. 

Old Orchard Shelter

Since my wife, Becky, was flying in to meet me for a few days of light slack packing and rest, I set my alarm for an early start time, and was on the trail by 7:00 the next morning.  I had about 16.9 miles to go that day, and did not want to be late for the anticipated pickup time of 3:30 at the road crossing west of  Sugar Grove.   As most books I read and most people had told me, Virginia was not nearly as tough as the first part of the AT had been.  The mountains were allot smaller, and the gaps farther apart.  I cruised down the trail at a good clip, with much more moderate temperatures and less climbing to do.  I actually just slowed down to a crawl the last few miles, as I was going to beat the 3:30 pickup time by several hours.  I crossed the  South Fork of the Holston River at 2:30, looking down at a trout in the river as I crossed the bridge.  I’m taking my fishing pole with me on the second leg of my journey1  I laid down to wait for my ride, and the prettiest shuttle driver yet to pick me up pulled up at about 3:45.  Becky pulled up, and first gasped, then laughed, as she saw and felt how skinny I was.  She should have seen me four days ago though!

Wild blueberry bushes growing around a white blazed post on the AT--Is this heaven?

It was great being with my wife, not having seen her for a month.  I gorged myself on great food during the three days she’s been here.   She implored me to eat, and eat even more, which I was happy to do.  We ate good Mexican food the first night, had lunch at Ruby Tuesdays after a little 8 mile slack pack the next day, ate dinner at Applebee’s that night.  The next day, I hiked 12.5 miles without even a day pack on, even jogging down portions of the trail.  After relaxing by the pool some, working on re-organizing my hike, more laundry, and packing my pack for the next section, we ate another good dinnner at the truck stop restaurant down the road.   I’ve gained more of my weight back with all the great food, lighter days, better sleep, and cooler weather–up to 172 pounds.  I’m going to try to maintain that weight or even more as I head north into Virginia.  I’ll be averaging about 16.5 miles per day through Virginia as I head to Harper’s Ferry on August 2nd or 3rd.  And yes Mike, the foot rubs have been awsome!!  The Compassionater is rejuvinated and ready to charge into Virginia!

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Posted in AT2010 | 6 Comments »