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Archive for September, 2010

It’s All Downhill Now–Almost

Sunday, September 26th, 2010

After a good zero day in Gorham, I was washed up, fattened up, and re-supplied to charge into the heart of the White Mountains of New Hampshire.  After reading and hearing so much about how difficult they were, and after surviving southern Maine, I planned a light day to begin with, climbing just 8 miles up to Imp Shelter.  The climb was long and tough, going from 800′ up to Mt. Moriah at over 4,000′, and then down to the shelter at about 3,400′.  The weather had turned cold all of a sudden, so much that the new fleece liner for my sleeping bag and my new long-johns did not help in keeping me from getting cold that night.  It was another lonely, cold night in the shelter for the Compassionater, as most of the remaining NOBO’s were now well on their way north to Maine, or finished.

The weather has turned cold--especially up high.

Apocalypse--the only NOBO to pass me as I headed north earlier. Now he's about a month from being done.

I did run into a group of three NOBO’s the next afternoon towards the end of a long 13 mile day of hiking over several mountains and ridges.  One of the hikers actually had a cat with him hiking the AT.  The cat would walk about two miles a day, with the rest of the time spent riding up on his backpack.  I’ve seen many dogs on the trail, but a cat?  That’s a tough cat, and a somewhat different guy to take his cat with him on the AT.  The cat was sleeping and chilled out when I was visiting with them, and looked to be in good shape and spirits, as best as I could tell for a cat.  I also ran into a NOBO whom I had met down in central Virginia back in July.  Apocalypse was a young hiker from Maine, whom I had blogged about earlier.  After my first month of hiking, he was the only thru-hiker that had passed me as I was heading north at a pretty good clip.  The day before I had to come of the trail due to my Mother’s death we had met, and he passed me going about 20 miles per day at that point.  When we crossed paths again, he was still heading north, about a month from finishing at Katahdin, and I was heading south.  We shared a good conversation and wished each other well as we set off in opposite directions.

That evening I spent the night at one of the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC) lodges, as I would for several of my next nights.  I checked into the Joe Dodge Lodge, into a bunk room with three other guys.  It was a tiny room with two bunks, and not much else.  After a good dinner, I had a somewhat good night of sleep, even though the guy below me snored all night, and my hip was hurting.  The next morning at breakfast, which again was provided by the lodge, my snoring friend tells me, “Brad, you sure were sawing some good logs last night.”  Well, I didn’t want to break the news to him that he was snoring probably louder than I was, so I just kept eating my bacon, and eggs, and all the other good stuff I was enjoying for breakfast.  One of the reasons I wanted to stay at the AMC huts and lodges was the fact that I wouldn’t have to carry much food in my backpack, and would enjoy good food provided by them.   As I was getting my pack ready later, he was at the desk checking out to another room for the next day, making up some story about how they had booked our room to someone else for the next night.  That evening, when I checked back into my room, the lady at the desk told me the other two guys had moved into another room also.   So, I guess I ran all three of them off!  Oh well, I just was able to get another 2-person room, with me the only guy in there, and I probably snored to my heart’s content.  I wouldn’t know, as I’ve never heard myself snore, so I can’t confirm that I’m guilty.

IT was cold and icy to start the day at Mt. Washington.

My plan for Mt. Washington, the highest peak of the White Mountains at 6,288′, was to take the shuttle up to the peak, and hike the 13 miles mainly down back to Joe Dodge Lodge.  This is one of the few peaks on the AT where people can actually drive up to the top, where there is even a snack bar.  The huts up high were closed for the season, and my sleeping bag was not equipped to withstand the cold temperatures up high, without a tent especially.  That morning the shuttle was delayed going up on the road to the top of Mt. Washington  because of 4″ of snow at the summit and ice the previous day and night.  It was 10:30 before I started on the trail leading down from the summit, walking on ice for the first 30 minutes or so.  The weather was cold, but not too bad for Mt. Washington that day.  Some of the worst weather in America occurs at the top of Mt. Washington, with high winds, clouds, sudden rain or snow storms, etc.  In fact, the highest wind ever recorded was on Mt. Washington, something like 245 mph or something like that.

Hiking the Presidentials. The AT hops from summit to summit.

The views were awesome from the trail, which hopped from peak to peak across the Presidential Mountain Ridge.  I walked about seven miles above timberline, hopping from rock to rock, going down one peak and up another.  Mt. Jefferson, Mt. Clay, Mt. Adams, and Mt. Madison were all along the AT that day, with climbs of about 1,900′ and descents of about 6,000′.  On Madison, the last peak, I met another hiker at the summit, so I had him take a picture of me.  From this point on, it was mainly downhill for the seven miles into Joe Dodge Lodge for the evening.  About ten minutes later, I grabbed for my IPhone to call my wife to let her know I was OK and coming off the mountain, only to discover that it was gone.  I frantically searched my pack and pockets to no avail, so backtracked the rocky terrain in hopes of finding it.  It must have slipped out of my side pouch on my pack or my pocket.  After almost two hours of searching, I gave up, hollered a few choice words of frustration into the cold mountain air (as if it would help find my phone), and headed down the mountain.

Since I had gotten a late start that day, I had borrowed a tent from an AMC worker and taken my sleeping bag, just in case I did not make it down before dark.  It was clear

Why am I still smiling? Because I've not discovered that my cell phone has fallen out of my pouch on my pack!

now that I would not make it down, and I did not want to night hike over this rough, rocky terrain.  It started raining at about 6:00, and I was still four miles from the lodge, so I put up my tent next to a stream, ate some granola bars for supper, and tried to get some sleep.  I made a bad decision in camping next to this stream, as it was more like a roaring river, which along with my sore hip, kept me awake most of the night.

I packed up my wet tent early the next morning, and hiked the four miles into the lodge.  I had to re-supply, I was tired, and all my clothes were dirty, so I hitched a ride back into Gorham, where I had stayed several days ago.  There, I got my laundry done at the Top Notch Inn, where I had stayed before, and the nice folks there even let me soak in the hot tub while my laundry was being done.  I hitched another ride back to the lodge, where I enjoyed a nice dinner and a room to my snoring self.

The next day was beautiful, and again took the shuttle ride to the top of Mt. Washington with several other hikers that day who were doing the same thing I was doing by hiking down.  It was another day of 13 miles of mainly downhill southbound hiking, with this day being a little easier than the northern route.  Going downhill sounds easy, but not so in the White Mountains, as it often takes more time, and is brutal on hips and knees especially.  My knees have never been a problem, but they were aching from the steep descents of southern Maine and now the White Mountains.

I made it down to Crawford Notch, where I checked into the AMC Highlands Lodge just in time for a nice dinner.  I met a nice gentleman from Boston there named Phillip, who agreed to take my backpack to the place I was staying at in two days at Franconia Notch.  I would be staying the night at Galehead Hut, where they provide dinner, breakfast, and a bunk, so there was no need to lug my 38 lb backpack when all I needed was some food for lunch and a few clothes in my daypack.  My knees, hip, and for that matter  my whole body could use the help with the lighter weight.  Thirty fewer pounds beating down on my knees with each step would be less wear and tear on my body.  I again had three other roommates in my somewhat bigger bunk room, but I don’t think I snored as I couldn’t sleep well at all.

Much of my time above timberline was in the clouds.

I had 14.5 miles to cover in order to reach Galehead Hut on this sunny day.  My new friend Phillip drove me to the trailhead, with only my daypack that day and the next  since I was staying at the AMC hut.  For a change, it was a fairly moderate trail, without any crazy climbs and steep descents.  In fact, after about three miles of moderate climbing, the trail actually leveled out fairly well for a wonderful two or three miles of fast hiking.  After then climbing up to Zealand Mountain and then South Twin Mountain, I descended into Galehead by about 4:30, in plenty of time for dinner at 6:00.  The AMC huts, such as Galehead, are located in the White Mountain National Forest, far away from roads.  There are three or four caretakers, who cook, clean, and maintain the huts for the guests.  There were about 20 guests that night at the shelter, mostly day or section hikers who hike from hut to hut, which are about seven miles apart on average.  The huts have larger bunk rooms, which I slept way up on the third level in ours.  After dinner, two young hikers brought their dog in who had gotten in a pickle with a porcupine, and lost.  There were sharp quills stuck in her nose and mouth, so the hut workers helped them with their dog and allowed them to sleep on the dining room floor that night.  The next morning the dog was OK, just a little sore, with a lesson learned about porcupines.

It was another nice, sunny day to hike the 13 miles up over Mt. Garfield, and then up to Mt. Lafayette, Mt. Lincoln,  and along the Lafayette Ridge.  The temperatures dropped and the wind increased to about 55 mph as I summited Lafayette, so I kept adding layers of clothes as the altitude increased up to almost 5,000′.  The views were

Going up Mt. Lafayette.

awesome, with clear views back to Mt. Washington, into Vermont, and back into Maine.  After taking one picture at the summit, my camera battery went dead, which was disappointing.  The trail went along the top of the ridge above timberline for about four miles, with some of the most spectacular views on the AT.  They are only etched in my mind though.  I met quite a few day hikers this day who walked up from some of the many trails leading up to the ridge.   The trail descended about 2,800′ for the last three miles going down into Franconia Notch, which again was brutal on my aching knees.  I had a hard time hitching a ride into North Woodstock, but finally did, so was able to do laundry, eat dinner, and get a good night of sleep at the B&B Wilderness Inn.

I was staying two nights at the B&B, with a great breakfast provided each day.  North Woodstock is a small, quaint New England town, which was very beautiful at this time of the year with the fall leaves changing colors into vibrant yellows and reds.  I was looking forward to exploring some of these small New England towns, with all their history, architecture, and beautiful landscapes.  On this day, Michael, one of the owners of the Inn, drove me the seven miles or so north to the trailhead, from where I would hike 16.5 miles back south to Franconia Notch, where I had ended up the day before.  Hiking with just my daypack on would again be a little faster, and easier on my sore knees and hip.  The weather again was nice, and I began to notice a big improvement in the trail condition.  It gradually became less steep, with fewer rocks and roots, land less mud to hike around and through.  I had two fairly large climbs to do, but they were less dramatic and steep, with no crazy routes up boulders and rocks.  By 4:00, I was back at the same place on the road leading into North Woodstock trying to hitch a ride.  The same lady who had picked me up the day before came along and gave me a ride into town for another good stay at the B&B.

My days of hiking crazy trail conditions such as this are about done!

The last time I'll be above timberline at Mt. Mooselauke.

Another beautiful day greeted me as Michael drove me up to the trailhead at Kinsman Notch, as I would have my full backpack on again for the next two days going into Hanover.  The last few weeks I’ve been hiking from notch to notch it seems.  A notch is somewhat the same as a gap in the south–a deep valley formed from a river or in this case, glaciers.  It’s amazing how these huge glaciers carved out huge notches in these mountains thousands of years ago here in New England and in Maine.  At higher elevations, I’ve often walked on smooth, carved granite and other rock, which was worn smooth by glaciers grinding over the rock over time.  If it’s steep, as it often is, and wet, it’s especially difficult to walk on without slipping, especially when going downhill.  Today would be a long, 17 mile hike, over the last really big mountain I’ll tackle on the AT–Mt. Moosilauke. After climbing 3,000′ up to about 4,800′, I was above treeline with high winds and cold temperatures.  This would be the last time I would be above timberline on the AT.  It was bittersweet, as I looked back at the White Mountains and the southern Maine mountains I’d just conquered.  I love being above timberline, where you can see for over 100 miles on many days, hiking in the alpine zone.  I felt great that I had made it through this very difficult stretch unscathed, and I was very happy that the hiking would be getting easier, with much more moderate grades and better trail conditions.

It was a long, 3,500′ descent over five miles before crossing the road into Glencliff, a very small town in New Hampshire.  There was a hostel just .2 miles down from the AT, so I hid my pack in the woods and hiked down for a couple of cold cokes and a shot of caffeine for the final 7.5 miles to Ore Hill Shelter.  I was pumped, after drinking the cokes, calling my wife, and checking on our website to see that we were over the $80,000 level in donations.  The trail continued it’s transition to a more moderate grade, hiking over more dirt than rocks.  The forest began to change as I left the White Mountains, with taller hardwoods such as Oaks, Hickory, and Elms for the first time since the south.  There were parts of the trail that were covered with pine needles, which was a pleasure to walk on versus the rocks, roots, and mud of the past several  weeks.  I covered the last 7.5 miles in under three hours, which was the first time in a long time I’ve been able to go over 2 mph.

The mountains are smaller and the fall colors more vibrant as I head into Hanover and on into Vermont.

The 16 mile hike the next day into the Hanover area was a nice day again.  I had two fairly large mountains to climb that day, but they were much more gradual and less demanding than what I’d just been through over the past several weeks.  With every day, the fall colors were exploding with more yellow, red, and orange.  I was glad I’d decided to flip flop my hike, and head south from Maine to take advantage of the better weather.  I’ll be enjoying some great fall color as I hike south through New England at this time of year.  There are no bugs at all to bug me.  And, I’ve gotten the hardest parts of the AT completed–the southern Appalachians along with Maine and the White Mountains.  They are done–over with.  Ill be cruising as I finish up with New England and the mid-Atlantic states.  I’ll still have some mountains to climb, such as Mt. Killington in Vermont and Mt. Grayson in Massachusetts, but they are not as steep and rugged as where I’ve been.  And the trail is more like a trail, with a much smoother surface, often layered with leaves and pine needles.

I feel good now.  Southern Maine in particular was very tough.  After I made it through, I warned the remaining NOBO’s on how difficult it was.  Some knew, but some were cocky and thought they’d be doing their 18 miles per day flying up to Katahdin.  Ain’t gonna happen, sorry to say to them.  Most will make it at this point, but I’m sure some will skip some sections, or it will just eat their lunch and prevent some of them from finishing their thru-hike.  My last few weeks have consisted of hiking from mountain to mountain, going up, and then down, and then up again.  That’s sometimes how life seems to be, as we climb a mountain in our lives, maybe descend a little bit, only to face another huge mountain to climb again, and even again.  During those times, it can be tough, and seem that the challenges will never end.  That’s how I felt a few weeks ago as I was heading into southern Maine with hot weather, ridiculous climbs and descents, and a sore hip.  But with God’s grace, I was able to persist, grow, and made it through just fine, while often having a good time.  Not always.  Sometimes it was not fun–more survival.  But my legs in particular are stronger now from the rugged trail, and I’ll be able to fly from now on.  The rugged mountains and hard climbs of Maine and the White Mountains will make the rest of my trip go much easier, and enjoyable.

The trail does get easier.  I’ve been looking forward to that, and it is here.  Life often does get easier, with smooth stretches and fewer challenges.  I’m going to enjoy this stretch, and finish out my AT thru-hike strong.  I’ve covered over 1,350 of difficult miles so far, with less than 800 more moderate miles to go.  I’ll be hiking some of the remaining miles with just my daypack on, which is much easier and less demanding on my body.  Life is easier when we lessen the load we carry on our back.  As Christ said himself, “For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”  And, I’ll be getting a little help from modern medicine with my long awaited cortisone shot into my ailing left hip while in Hanover at the Dartmouth Medical Center.  I’ll be flying through New England, with Harper’s Ferry in my sights soon.

Posted in AT2010, Appalachian Trail, Charity, New Hampshire, Tulsa Charity | 3 Comments »

Just Give Me My Bacon

Monday, September 13th, 2010

I was anxious to see how my body would respond to the day of rest and the cooler weather. It was obvious that both had helped, as I could climb well again without my legs turning to rubber. The crisp, cool weather and breeze was so refreshing, as we first dropped about 750′ into the valley before starting the first climb of 2,000′ up to the first of three peaks on Saddleback Ridge.  This day Monkeyback and I were slackpacking this 16 mile section back down into Rangley for another day of sleeping in a real bed and eating real food.   The climbs were steep and tough, which is normal for Maine. The views were awesome at the top of the rocky ridge, before dropping down about 600′  into the trees again, only to climb back up 1,000′ up to The Horn, with even better views.

Clouds began to form in the valley to the west, with light rains forming and blowing across the mountains. With winds gusting to about 50 mph, I was actually getting chilled, which really felt good after being so hot last week.  I dropped down again in elevation, but stayed above treeline as I climbed up several hundred more feet again in the freezing, blowing rain to the final peak, Saddleback Mountain.

I loved hiking above treeline, along mainly rock, surrounded by the Alpine tundra. It reminds me some of the Colorado Rockies, where you can see for miles in the far distance.  Today was a day I met a bunch of northbound thru-hikers, including Master Chief, Farmer John, and Captain Slick to name a few.  Some like to visit, and some are just so ready to finish that they’re totally focused on Mt. Katahdin.

I continue to be the one to instigate the conversation, ask their names, congratulate them, etc   Most of the NOBO’s are skeptical of me since I’m heading south, and with no beard which qualifies me as one of them–a thru-hiker.  I’m keeping my beard shaved now, as it made me look 10 years older and my wife did not like it.  I feel a sense of prejudice towards someone who is not one of them–a big, bad NOBO almost finished with their thru-hike.  Once I bring up the fact that I started northbound in Georgia, and flip-flopped,they all of a sudden seem to accept me as almost one of them.  Maybe not a brother, but a step brother or cousin maybe to their NOBO clan. Only then do I sense they have a respect for me, and want to talk more and become more friendly.

I’ve also noticed it’s mainly the younger hikers who seem to have a problem accepting someone different than them, such as these whimpy SOBO’s or section hikers. You know, the generation which is supposed to be so accepting of other people, ideas, etc.  It just seems that many have developed somewhat of an attitude that just because they’ve been on the AT longer and are almost done, that they’re better than all others.  Some even write crude things in the trail journals about us SOBO’s, which we read after they are miles on the trail going the other way.  That’s so big of them.  I’ll continue to congratulate them all, as they have almost accomplished something that is really tough to do.

Bob and his Honda trail car.

I enjoyed another good meal in Rangley and stayed at Gulf Pond Lodge Hostel for the evening. I enjoyed several cups of coffee while visiting with Bob the owner.  Another good day of hiking brought me over the top of the huge Bemis Mountain with it’s several peaks and valleys.  A 13.1 mile day with over 4,400′ in elevation gain and loss was a pretty typical day now in southern Maine. The views were again awesome along the top rocky ridges. I made it down to Bemis stream in time to hang my hammock between two trees, whip up some dinner, and was able to make a fire to go to sleep by as I lay in my hammock in the woods.

I was awakened during the night with the thumping of raindrops hitting the rainfly just above my head.  I didn’t sleep well that night, which hurts me the next day with my energy level.  It makes me want to take a nap during the day, which I can’t do.  The morning clouds gave way to bright sunshine by afternoon, passing by several nice ponds and lakes in the Maine woods.  On top of Old Blue Mountain I called the folks in Andover where I would be staying that night to arrange a pickup from the road.  I had about two hours to cover the three miles or so down to where the trail intersects the road into Andover.  I needed about all of that, as the last section was very steep, taking allot of time to maneuver down.  After checking in at Pine Ellis Lodging, I ate a big dinner at the general store and enjoyed a restful night in a real bed.

I was going to take advantage of a nice, moderate 10 mile section the next day by slack packing that section, along with several other northbound hikers.  I had plenty of time to go have a nice breakfast at the Red Hen Diner in Andover, which is always a great way to start out a hiking day with.  It’s a very small one person cafe, with the cook coming over to take my order.  She said that they were all out of granola,which I thought was directed at me.  So I sarcastically blurted out for all go hear, “Oh no!  That’s so disappointing!”.  Well, the young couple who were also hikers sitting at the next table had actually ordered granola, and the waitress was telling them that there was no granola.   There was a deadly silence, as they both realized that they couldn’t have granola that morning, and that I’d just made fun of anyone who would actually order granola after eating junk like that every day on the trail for breakfast and lunch.  I thought to myself, why would any normal person order granola at a cafe, after having to eat it so much while on the trail, when there’s eggs, bacon, home fries, toast and jelly, and pancakes on the menu?  Some of these young hikers just take the thru-hiker mentality way too serious.  As for me, just give me my bacon, along with eggs, pancakes, lots of butter and syrup, and all the other real food for breakfast during these precious times along the trail when I can actually order off a menu.

It only took us 6 hours to finish our 10 mile hike for the day, so it was really nice to be done by mid-afternoon and have time for laundry and to just relax.  That evening I had dinner with Doc, a retired Army medic who was hiking the AT northbound.  We also had breakfast the following morning (eggs, bacon, etc, and no granola) before he headed north for Katahdin and I headed south into southern Maine. It was nice to visit with someone my age, as Ive just not had as much opportunity to spend much time with other hikers, since most are heading in the opposite direction than I am.  And, much of the conversation with some of the younger clan is more focused on which towns have the best beer selection, hot women, and is laced with profanities.

The Notch

The weather was getting cooler it seemed every day now, with the big Maine heatwave long gone.  With the cooler weather, less miles I was doing, good food, and a few slackpacking days thrown in, I was much stronger now.  I climbed up Baldplate Mountain with little difficulty. As I got higher to the timberline level, I was into the clouds, with cold, blowing rain and winds gusting to 50mph.  The rocky slopes were very wet and treacherous, so I carefully picked my way up and over the two high peaks.  With all the clouds, I didn’t have much of a view, which normally would have been awesome. I just wanted to get down off the mountain safely and quickly, as I was getting cold, and it was very treacherous coming down the steep, rocky slopes.

I eventually made it down into the trees, and continued on down carefully, only slipping and falling once harmlessly onto my rear.  I made Grafton Notch, my destination for the day, by 4:00, hitched a ride to the Mahoosic Lodge for the night.  I stayed in a neat, old farmhouse that night, having it all to myself.  Polly, one of the owners, fixed a great dinner that evening for a nice group of people from Brown University, who get together for reunions quite often it seems.  I enjoyed great food, fellowship, even a glass of wine with them before settling in for bed.

After breakfast, the Kevin drove me back to the trailhead for an early start.  It was cold.  I put on my long pants for the first time and hiked in my jacket.  The trail was long and steep going up Old Speck Mountain, and wet from the rain.  The higher I got, the windier, rainier, and colder it became.  At the summit of over 4,000′, winds were howling at 55mph and light rain blowing.  It again was very slick and treacherous, so every step was taken carefully.  Going down was more treacherous than going uphill, but I eventually made it back to treeline where the winds were not as bad and with fewer wet rocks and boulders to cross.

Bull dog picking his way through the AT!

On the way down Speck Mountain, I met Bulldog, the blind AT hiker I’d been hearing about for several days now. Bulldog and his friend hiking with him are from Minneapolis, and have been on the trail since early March.  While they did have to skip some sections, due to heavy snow in March in the Smokies and no water in Virginia, Bulldog has picked and walked over the AT, even though he’s blind!  Did I mention that he is blind?  It was incedible to see him manuever the same trail I and other hikers had been on.  This deal is hard enough to do when you can see it.  I don’t see how he can do it, but he is.  They are filming his journey and have a website with more information. It’s www. Hansonproject.com

I pulled into Speck Pond Shelter at noon, wet and chilled from the morning hike.  My schedule called for me to do the Mahoosuc Notch today, a 1-mile stretch of trail which is so difficult that it takes most several hours to get through.  Bulldog had made it through only with the help of three thru-hikers, who had taken six hours to verbally walk him through this section.  After eating lunch, I debated going ahead through the rain, wind, and cold to do it now, or to wait until first thing the next day, with a forecast of better weather.  I wanted to enjoy the notch, and see some views over this final beautiful section of Maine, so I decided to just enjoy a day huddled up in my sleeping bag at the shelter, let the bad weather pass, and take two long days in hiking this next section into Gorhham, New Hampshire, where I would take my next zero day.

It was a very cold night in the Shelter, even sleeping in my pants and jacket.  I was on the trail at 6:45 and greeted to a morning sun with cloudless skies.  It would be a much better day to hike the notch and this difficult section.  I proceeded down the Mahoosuc Arm. a very steep rock face and wet from the previous rains that morning.  Upon reaching the valley, I entered the Mahoosuc Arm, the hardest 1-mile section on the AT.  It basically is a big pile of huge boulders, many the size of cars, which have fallen down over the ages from the steep rocky cliffs above.  It was very challenging, yet fun, in manuevering up, around, and even under these boulders.  Many times I would crawl on all my knees, using my hands and arms to pull up and over boulders.  My hiking sticks were pretty useless many times, but helpful in other situations for leverage.  I proceeded carefully, taking about two hours to make it through this one-mile section without falling or getting hurt.  That was my goal.  I met a bunch of NOBO’s coming down through the notch, as many had pilled up in the shelter to the south making the same decision I had, in waiting out the weather from yesterday to hike this during drier weather.  The rocks were still somewhat wet in places, but doing this in the rain would have been even more difficult, and not much fun.   I had made a good decision in waiting yesterday, as Full Goose Shelter was overflowing with hikers that night, and I’d been forced to sleep in the woods freezing my rear off.

With the sun being out, it was a beautiful day up on the peaks and ridges once making it through the notch.  On one high rocky ridge, I spread out my clothes and sleeping bag that early afternoon to dry out from the previous days rain and damp weather.  The trail continued to be challenging, with lots of ups, downs, rocks, roots, etc.  I made it into Carlo Col Shelter at 5:00, so that day I spent over 10 hours to cover just 10 miles of trail.  1 mph is not too impressive, but this is southern Maine, the most difficult stretch on the AT.   I had the shelter to myself, before another NOBO came in just before dark.

The next morning I was on the trail again at 6:45.  I had allot of tough trail to cover, and I was really looking forward to getting out of Maine and into New Hampshire, and Gorham, where I would enjoy a zero day the next day.  Two evenings ago, a NOBO had told me about a blue blazed trail he and all the other hikers in his group took up from Gorham, which saved about five hours of tough hiking.  The AT makes a big loop for no reason down into Gorham, but by taking the Peabody Trail straight down, I could end up at the same place where the AT heads into town, and save five hours of difficult up and down hiking.  The AT is marked by white blazes on trees and rocks, so that hikers will know they are on the correct trail.  A blue blazed trail is a side trail or secondary trail, leading to a shelter, water source, another destination, or a shortcut leading back to the AT.  I had always hiked the white blazed AT, as I thought most people did.  Reality is that many if not most of these hikers are taking blue blazed trails at times, cutting off miles and hours on their hike.  Some even go the the extreme of hitching past sections and skipping entire sections of the AT.  A purist is one who sticks strictly to the white blazes, even under extreme conditions and at all costs.

Leaving Maine

The NOBO asked if I was a purist, and I replied I really didn’t know.  Of the approximately 1,200 miles I’ve hiked so far, all had been on the white blazed AT.  I hadn’t skipped anything, other than one very small climb up a peak somewhere in Maine.  The AT usually goes straight up every peak it can find, but in this case, had a short blue blazed trail skirting the edge rather than going up to the peak.   My hip was hurting that day, I was in a tough section, and had a long day to hike, so I decided to save the wear and tear on my hip and save about 30 minutes of hiking to make sure I’d be done by dark.  It was a good decision, because even with the little blue blaze, I was still barely in by dark.  So I had decided to not be a strict purist, but to give myself three “mulligans”, as in golf.  I would take three blue blazed trails for safety purposes, due to bad weather, etc. during my hike.   After all, this is hiking the AT, it’s not the IRS tax laws.  There’s no AT jail I’ll be sent to if I take three blue blazes when needed.  Some hikers may think they are the AT police (they eat granola for breakfast), but the mantra is “hike your own hike”.  I didn’t want to cheat, but I had to be a realist also.  I’m not going to be so legalistic about a white blaze that I put myself in danger by hiking at night though Maine or getting myself hurt by hiking in dangerous weather.

But I still was feeling guilty about taking that blue blaze trail this day.  Would I regret doing it?  I couldn’t go back and walk that nine mile section I skipped if I did it now.  But If I took the three mile Peabody trail, I’d be in Gorham by afternoon, with a bacon cheeseburger and coke in my hand, with plenty of time to rest that Sunday, and watch the first day of NFL football.  I passed the Maine/New Hampshire state line in the morning, and it felt really good to be out of the toughest state on the AT.   New Hampshire for now was not much different though, so hiking was fairly slow.  After passing Gentian Pond Shelter, I only had about two more miles before reaching Dream Lake, where the blue-blazed trail intersected with the AT and went down into the road leading to Gorham.  It was decision time.  I had only passed one NOBO that morning, but I asked God to send me a hiker that would clarify my decision and do the right thing.  I could be a purist, and walk that nine mile loop of hard trail, in rainy weather, and risk even getting to Gorham before dark, or I could take the Peabody Trail, and be eating a  bacon cheeseburger, have a hot shower, do laundry, and watching football by afternoon.

The compassionater reaping the benefits of his decision to reach Gorham, NH for a late lunch of a bacon burger!

About one mile before the cutoff, a sole NOBO came my way.  I told him of my deli ma, and asked what his take was on thru-hiking and on the exact wording that the Appalachian Trail Conservancy has about thru-hiking.   They really are not a governing body, but they are the agency that issues the 2,000 mile hiker certificate, for whatever that means.  He spoke with a funny accent, one I had not heard on the trail before, and I’d heard many from all over.  He had thru-hiked a few years ago, and was out on a section hike now.  He said he and most others took blue blazes for safety reasons, during bad weather, etc.  While some abuse that, most do it sparingly.  I was giving my self three, had used one short one, and was considering doing one now.  If the weather two days ago was good, I’d made it through the notch and would not be in this deli ma off needing to make it to Gorham on Sunday before dark.  The hiker in fact told me he didn’t think I’d make it by dark from where I was, and it was better to just take the blue blaze.  I asked him where he was from, as I do most folks, and he said “Israel”.

That’s it!  It’s a done deal–I’m going to Gorham!  I could be legalistic and walk five to six more hours until dark, or I could eating a  bacon cheeseburger by 2:30.

Just give me by bacon, and the other stuff that goes with it!  God sent one of his chosen people clear out here on the AT just at the right time to give me assurance that it’s OK for me to take this little blue blazed trail and get me into Gorham at a decent hour.  I wished him well, and picked up my pace to the Peabody Trail cutoff.  I was getting excited about eating real food, a hot shower and nice bed, and my zero day in Gorham.

After all, I’d just finished the toughest stretch on the trail, and needed a break.  And, my hip and now my knees needed a break.  I cruised down the three miles of the Peabody Trail, hooked back up with the AT, and after 45 minutes was finally able to hitch a ride for the final three miles into town.  This blue-blazed trail was actually the nicest stretch I’ve had for three weeks.  It was fairly straight, well-groomed, with no huge rocks, boulders, and roots, and it made sense.  It went to where you wanted to go taking the most efficient route.  The AT often just makes no sense.  It zigs, zags, makes loops like today for no apparent reason other than to make hikers suffer.  It goes up every mountain it can find.  The Peabody Trail was actually a little refreshing.  And as it turned out, I would have had a tough time hitching a ride into Gorham at night.

Finally... some bacon!

So here I am in Gorham, resting up for the White Mountains, with another tough but beautiful section before me.  I’m buying some new cold weather gear, as the days of hot weather are gone and I’m getting cold.  And, I’m getting fattened up and trying to keep my weight up by eating lots of bacon….and eggs, steak, hamburgers, pizza, cokes, whatever tastes good and has calories.

Happy Hiking!

Posted in AT2010, Appalachian Trail, Charity | 9 Comments »

The Pain of Maine

Saturday, September 4th, 2010

I thought that my days of hiking in 90 plus weather would be done as I head southbound through Maine.  I was wrong.  The hot weather has followed me from Virginia, and it’s been painful.  It had started to warm up as I made it to Monson for my zero day.  After another big breakfast at Shaw’s, I hit the AT again, enjoying a smoother and more level stretch of trail going 18 miles to Moxie

Piece Pond Waterfalls

Bald Lean-to.  I had several river crossings to do this day, but with the drought that Maine is in, they were easy as I hopped across rocks without having to wade.  I was greeted at the lean-to by a younger couple from New York City, Snaps and Pops, whom I had met at the hostel in Monson.

Mama moose and baby.

As I entered camp at about 6:00, there was a mama moose and her baby out in the pond not over 125′ from us.  They seemed to not care that we were there, as they drank and ate the aquatic vegetation in the lake.  After eating freeze-dried sweet& sour pork (not exactly PF Changs), I enjoyed a decent night of sleep alone in the lean-to.

The next day I was up early to cover the 19 miles into Caratunk.  I had a 1,500′ climb over Moxie Bald Mountain, down almost 2,000′, and then up again almost 2,000′ up Pleasant Pond Mountain.  The temperatures were now getting into the 90’s, which is way above normal and even record setting for Maine at this time of year.  It is not what I had expected in Maine.  On the way down, I was out of water, so I had to stop at a Pleasant Pond (really a big lake), which actually had some homes and boaters on it.  I asked a group of Maine locals for some water, and they did even better–giving me a cold Pepsi and Propel.  After another swim in the cold, clear water, I was ready to go again.  I made it to the road crossing into Caratunk about 6:00, and was fortunate enough to get a hitch from a hiker who had started in Georgia earlier and had to get off because of injury.  He asked about some thru-hikers he had been hiking with back south, and sure enough, I had visited with them several days ago on top of Whitetop Mountain.  He drove me right to the Inn where I was staying, which was deserted.  I was able to reach the owner, who drove to the Inn and took me up the road about nine miles to a nice lodge where I was able to eat well and do my laundry.  By the time I got back, it was 9:00 and time for bed.  It was hot, as many places don’t even have air conditioning up here.  It was needed today though.

Dinner Time

I got a ride to the trail head, and was shuttled across the Kennebec River by 9:15 the next morning.  The River is normally much higher, but it is still recommended that people get a shuttle with a canoe ride across the river just to be sure.  It was here that I met up with a couple from Seattle, Adobe and Monkeyback, as they were heading south also after staying in Caratunk.  Monkeyback was a thru-hiker  who had flip-flopped as I did, with Adobe joining him through Maine.  She picked a tough state to hike in.

It was hot again, but I did not have any huge climbs to do today.  Even though the map profile may show moderate to level grades though, there are still constant ups and downs, with rocks and roots to maneuver around for the 14.5 mile journey today.  I still could not put it into overdrive and cruise down the trail.  And, the heat was gradually wearing me down.   It was mid-afternoon when the trail went by another beautiful Maine natural lake, East Carry Pond.  I stopped at a sandy beach and enjoyed an hour of swimming and cooling off, with two NOBO’s

Cool break on a hot day!

stopping to swim also, and Adobe and Monkeyback showing up later.  Who would have dreamed that I would need to stop and cool off in a Maine lake at this time of year?  It refreshed me, allowing me to continue the four miles into West Carry Pond Lean-to for the night. I again had the shelter all to myself.

The next day I had only about 11.5 miles to cover, but I had a big climb up Little Bigelow Mountain along with other climbs.  I made it to the Little Bigelow Lean-to around lunchtime, so I decided to take a long break with lunch, and enjoy a dip in the cool creek in “the tubs”, small areas in the creek where one can sit in the creek and cool off.  After soaking and trying to rest, I left about 2:30 on my way up Little Bigalow and then down to Safford Notch Campsite on the other side in the valley.  It was a hard climb over

Avery Peak viewed from Little Bigelow--quite an imposing climb for the next day!

2,000′, with a steep path strewn with boulders much of the way.  Just when I thought I had summited, I would drop down some, and then climb again.  When I finally reached the actual summit, the wind was heavy and felt good as it cooled me off.  It was mainly downhill now for the final 2.5 miles to the campsite, but the trail was very rough, and it seemed to take forever.  I was really dragging now, as the heat was really taking a toll on my body.  After working outside for much of my life, and getting heat exhaustion several times, including back in late July in Virginia, my body it seems just doesn’t take the heat very well.  It’s during times like this that I’m reminded that I’m not 25 years old anymore.  It was after 7:00 before I finally stumbled into the campsite, where several NOBO’s were camped out in tents.  I did not have a tent, so just laid out my pad and bag on the ground, and tried to sleep after dinner.  It was so hot, that I started out sleeping on top of my bag, without a shirt on, in early September in Maine!   I did surprisingly have cell coverage here, so was able to call home, and call my brother Stan to tell him that I was not going to be in the White Mountains next week as planned.  I was slowing down, and would have to continue to slow down just in order to make it.  I was feeling very pressured to stay on my schedule, which is not what I wanted to do with this second half of my journey.  I had not planned on this hot weather, and it was slowing me down.  And, I had greatly underestimated Maine.  Many folks have told me and written that Maine is the toughest state, and I would agree.  The far south was tough, but this is tougher.  And, I’m just now entering southern Maine, which has the most peaks and climbs.

View south from summit of Avery Peak

I have past about 100 NOBO’’s in Maine, who are on the home stretch as they head to Katahdin.  By now, they are about two weeks away, they are very tired, and are ready to finish their journey.  I stop and greet them all, congratulate them on their almost-finished journey, and briefly visit with them.  It’s not much, just their name, where they are from, etc.  One thing I always hear is how tough southern Maine and the White Mountains in New Hampshire are.  I must admit, it’s getting me a little psyched out, hearing all this bad news and looking at the map profiles that are coming up.  I know there is no way I’m going to do the average of about  16 miles per day I had planned on through this section, especially as worn out as I was becoming.  As an older, wiser thru-hiker had told me a few days ago on the trail, “These things are a lot easier when sitting at the kitchen table compared to doing it out here!”

Common trail in Maine–can you find the trail?

I had begun to pass more older thru-hikers now, in the 40’s, 50’s, and even 60’s.  I also ask most when they started, and most seem to be taking 5-6 months to hike the AT, even the younger hikers.  While some will and can do it in four months, they are the exception and not the rule.  Originally, I was going to pull this off in four months.  I’ve been humbled.  Things have happened along the way which I could not predict.  Even though I read and knew allot about the AT, I really did not know, as I had not experienced it.  Now, my goal is to just finish, and if I take 5 months or more, so be it.  I will still finish–in 2010.  I may be hiking in December in Virginia, but so be it.  When it’s cool or cold, at least I can get warm by hiking faster.

I pulled out of my campsite the following morning with a big climb up Avery Peak of 2,000′, with a 500′ dip, another 500′ climb, and then more descent with some climbs before reaching the road heading into Stratton, my stop for that night.  I only had 10 miles to go, but again it was tough.  Even though the hot, humid weather caused it to be hazy up on Avery Peak, it was still an awesome view, seeing for hundreds of miles.  It reminded me of the Colorado Rockies, hiking above timberline.  The breeze made it cooler for a brief time on tip of the mountain.  As I headed down, I had to stop twice in a small stream and even in a beaver pond just to strip down to my shorts and cool off in the water, as I was over-heating again.  Upon reaching the road, I called Sue from the Stratton Motel, who came and picked me up to drive me the five miles into town.

After a well-deserved shower and a good dinner of pizza and pop, I hooked up with Monkeyback and Adobe again to discuss the possibility of slack packing this next section or two.  They had slack packed into Stratton.  By splitting the cost, we were able to arrange the next two days to be slack packed, with only about 9 miles each day to cover with just a day pack on.  Even with some

Just follow the white blazes!

big climbs up mountains each day, Crocker Mountain the first day and Spaulding Mountain the next, this normally would be a moderate day for me.  Not so with the hot weather.  My legs were like rubber by noon, and climbing was becoming a chore, even with moderate climbs.  I was glad I had made the decision to slack pack this, and for the opportunity to do so.  It would have been very tough with a full pack at this point.  Sue picked us up about 2:30 on the second day to take us into Rangley, a nice town about 8 miles off the AT.  With Hurricane Earl looming off the east coast, projected to drop possibly heavy rain in Maine that night and into Saturday, the next day, we both decided to take a zero day in Rangley and stay at a nice place.  I did not want to hike the next sections in the rain, or even with wet rocks, as it would just be too dangerous.  I had slipped and took falls several times last week on wet rocks in the rain going over Chairback Mountain, and did not want to risk ending my hike with an injury.  And from talking to other hikers, the Saddleback Range coming up is not safe to hike unless the rocks are dry.  So, with me being so tired, and with college football on all day Saturday, it was a good time to take a zero day and enjoy this small Maine town.

Another hot, hazy day in the Maine mountains.

The rain has passed, it’s cooled off now, with a forecast of much more seasonal and cooler weather into next week.  That’s just what I need!  I must admit, that over the past week or so, I’ve been a little discouraged, even fearful that I may not make it.  While I’ve covered over 1,000 miles total so far on my AT Compassionate Journey, and have less then 100 miles to do in this difficult state of Maine, the circumstances and challenges of the trail are hitting me right between the eyes, and in my body and mind.  I know the odds of making it.  These NOBO’s I’m passing and briefly visiting with each day are the toughest of the bunch, being in the small percentage of hikers who actually finish a thru-hike.  Will I be one of them, or one of the people who leave the trail because of injury, loneliness, boredom, money, family emergencies, exhaustion, or other things beyond their control?  I’ve never doubted myself and my resolve, until this past week.

We are all at time fearful of things in our lives and can begin to doubt our abilities to accomplish certain things.  Sometimes fear can be a healthy thing, but more often than not, it’s not good to be fearful.  Fear does not correlate with good things such as happiness, confidence, faith, and persistence.  Being a successful businessman, I could not have done the things I’ve done without being persistent, and having faith.  But I am wavering right now, for whatever reason it seems.  There have been times that I’ve even thought how nice it would be to just go home, be with my wife, sleep in my bed, eat good food, and yes, even be at work with my employees and customers!   Hiking the AT is hard, and I’m right in the middle of a very difficult stretch.  Every day latelly has been an endurance contest, just to make it up over the next mountain and into the next shelter or town by dark.

So as I’m taking this zero day, I’m not only resting my body physically to get over the effect of the heat, I’m adjusting my mind, my soul, and my resolve to finish this journey.  I’ve made adjustments, and will continue to do so just to finish.  Heck with trying to be a 56-year old stud who finishes it in four months–I just want to finish and still be alive!  As I had internet access on my I-phone, reading  from my favorite scripture in James this morning, I read the following.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.  Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.  If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given him.  But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.  That man should not think he will receive anything from the Lord.

I’ve had a trial over the past week or so in getting through this section of the AT, and it’s not going to get easier.  After I get through the White Mountains in a few weeks, it will become much, I hate to use the word easier, but more attainable and enjoyable.  I cannot doubt through through this next section, and I must believe in what and why I’m doing this.  I must have faith in my physical, mental, and emotional strengths, and the God who has allowed me to use those strengths for good.  Maybe I’ve tried to rely on myself too much lately, I don’t know.

I just trust that the cooler weather will refresh my tired body, and my perseverance and faith will become strong again.  When I’m lonely, I’ll put things in perspective, by thinking about the loneliness that Jake, our son, has had to deal with, being away from his family for seven months while fighting in Afghanistan.  At least I can call home every day just about, watch ESPN every week or so, and get a good meal by eating out every few days off the trail.  Our prayers have been answered and Jake is on his way home now, earlier than expected, to meet his two new twin daughters, see his big boy son Hunter who has grown so much, and love on his wife.   I’ve not seen him since Christmas, so one of my goals now is to get close enough to New York City as planned, hop a train and then a plane to North Carolina, to hang out with him for a few days in early October.

By tomorrow morning, as I head out south again on the AT, I trust I’ll be where I need to be, will be re-juvinated, and pressing on towards my goal.  I look forward to being blown around by the high winds up on Mt. Washington in the Whites (a hiker told me yesterday the winds were 70 mph a few weeks ago when he was up there).  I don’t like being tossed around by the winds of fear and doubt though.  I will persist and succeed.

Posted in AT2010, Appalachian Trail, Charity, Lawn America | 6 Comments »