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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 | 11 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 »

The 100-Mile Wilderness

Monday, August 30th, 2010

Katahdin

After climbing Mt. Katahdin, I had time to kill at Katahdin Streams Campground, where I paid $30 for an over-priced lean-to.  I wandered around looking for some trail magic and an invitation to sit by a campfire or something, to no avail. Seeing the families camping out made me miss my kids, and my mom, remembering all the times we’ve spent camping. I was up early and on the AT the next morning, strapping on the backpack for the first time in over two weeks. I was concerned how I would do after the layoff, but the rest and weight I put back on seemed to help. I felt I had some strength back.

It was a beautiful hike about 9 miles to Abol Stream campground and store, where I had my fill of real food for lunch before heading into the 100-mile Wilderness. The trail was fairly flat and smooth for a change, running along several streams and crossing the large Pendobscot River at Abol Bridge. Upon entering the 100-Mile Wilderness, a sign  was posted warning hikers to take 10 days supply of food, as there were no stopping points along the way. There is one camp though about 40 miles in where you can stay, eat, and re-supply which I was going to take advantage of.

My plan had me going to Hurd Brook Lean-to (they call them lean-to’s up here, shelters in the south, and huts in New England) but I was there by 3:15 and it was a nice day, so I pressed on to the next campground.

Katahdin

Katahdin

The trail began to get more challenging, with lots of rocks, exposed roots, and little twists and turns and ups and downs.  I ended up going 21.2 miles that first day with a backpack on, pulling into Rainbow Springs Campground at 7:00. I met and visited with several hikers there, including my first southbound thru-hiker named Random. He was a young stud from Alabama, with the goal of making it to Georgia before Christmas. He’ll have to go over 18 miles per day to make it, so good luck.  He actually showed up in Monson the day after I got there at the same hostel I’m staying in, so he’s behind schedule already. He later showed up after dinner looking pretty discouraged, as he told us he was flying home and giving up his hike after just 8 days, due to some family problems back home.  I felt sorry for the guy, and also grateful for my stable family and the support they’ve given me on my journey.  I also met a deaf hiker named Caribou and his dog, who had flipped from New Jersey and was now hiking south to there going 20 miles per day.  Don’t think he’s quite on that pace though, as I just saw him at breakfast in Monson this morning a week after we met.

Katahdin from two days away.

The next day I was on the trail by 7:00. Although the guidebook showed little elevation gain and loss, the trail was tough again, with few actual level runs. I was surprised to obtain cell coverage out here, but was able to call home at the mountain peaks. I had another beautiful view of Katahdin in the distance, two days from leaving it.  Since I’d gone further than planned the previous day, I went past my planned stop and found a great campsite on the shore of Lake Nahmakanta. I put up my tarp over some trees, built a great fire, and enjoyed a great sunset in the stillness of this large northern lake.

Sunset at Lake Nahmahanta

I could see a few other campfires in the far distance across the lake by canoe campers, as the howls of coyotes and loons echoed in the stillness of the setting sun.  I pulled out my new fishing pole to fish the lake, only to discover I had snapped the tip off while hiking, which I’m famous for. I did manage to catch one small fish, which I didn’t even know what it was.  It wasn’t a trout, and it wasn’t from Oklahoma or Colorado.

Sunrise the next morning

I was on the trail at 6:30 right after sunrise the next day, as I did not want to miss out on the one-pound hamburger served at 11:00 at Whitehouse Landing. I had a quick 6 miles to cover, blowing the horn at Pemadumcock Lake (don’t ask me what that means in Indian)  before 10:00 for the shuttle boat ride to the cabins. After a well-deserved shower, hand washing my clothes, I enjoyed a 2,800 calorie lunch with a huge cheeseburger, three cokes, and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream.  It was a relaxing, cloudy afternoon as I tried to enjoy a nap and catch up on sleep that I was having a hard time getting at night.  The cortisone shot I received in May was wearing off, giving me a lot of pain in my left hip at night.  That evening I again enjoyed the company of several folks, including a family from Delaware and two guys my age from Baltimore.

After a good breakfast (does it seem that the highlight of my day is eating), we were boated across the lake to hit the trail.  This day I decided to cut my day short and stayed at Cooper Brook lean-to, since I didn’t hit the trail till 9:00 due to the late breakfast.  And, I wanted to try to fish the stream, which looked ok. There was a NOBO thru-hiker there named Bodacious from Tennessee, and later another from New Jersey named Left Field. I fished with my dependable Panther Martin, only to catch one little Brook Trout not even big enough to eat. The steams were really low, and the water warm, so Trout were hard to find. So much for my Maine fishing license–I’m sending my fishing pole home.

Whitecap Mountain Summit

Since I took a shorter day before, my next day would be 19 miles to Carl Newhall lean-to. The trail was becoming more challenging, with a big climb up Whitecap Mountain that afternoon, along with many other peaks and valleys. There continued to be little level trail on the AT. The. climbs were rocky and steep, and the descents just as slow. The views were terrific at the top, seeing clearly back to Katahdin to the north, and the mountains of southern Maine looming towards the direction I was hiking. I made it to the Lean- to by dinner, and fixed some noodles again. I had re-supplied food at Whitehouse Landing a few days ago, so I had to buy regular stuff, which is not too good, but it keeps you alive.

There was one NOBO there from New York, with 3 others joining us later.  They’d been hiking together for some time, so they knew each other, and really didn’t show much interest in visiting with me. I saw about 14 NOBO’s today all on the home stretch to Katahdin and the end of their journey.

Typical NOBO's reaching the summit. These were nice and friendly.

Most guys have full beards, smell, are lean, and have their eyes focused on the finish.  About. 15% or so are girls, and they look more normal and cleaner than the guys. I did meet and visit with Boston today, who was 40 years old and the oldest thru-hiker I’d met to that point. The next day I did meet a flip-flop thru-hiker a year older than me, who had done about half the AT like myself. Most of the NOBO’s started in Georgia in March or early April, with just a few who started in early May. I congratulated all of them on making it and tried to be friendly. For some reason though, many of these NOBO’s don’t want to visit much. Some leave just downright rude comments in the trail registers, about how all SOBO’s are @!”@€*# or whatever. Of course they know that by the time a SOBO like me reads it, we’re  30 miles going in opposite directions. Maybe they are just tired or focused on reaching Katahdin, but many have some type of problem with hikers who are not hiking north for some reason. Whatever. Some are nice, or at least act nice until they get past me and write stupid stuff about us.  I do admire them for completing their journey, as I know how difficult it is.

The next day looked to be a moderate day of 17 miles from looking at the guidebook and map. As is often the case-they lied. Going over the steep rocky ledges of Chairback Mountain followed by four other peaks was brutal. A light rain in late morning turned into a heavy rainstorm the rest of the day. I had to be very careful in climbing up and down steep slippery rocks and roots.  I only slipped and fell twice, but  one bad fall could end my journey quickly. I couldn’t believe how steep and difficult the trail was versus what the guide showed. Some of the ledges were at a 60-degree angle,  having to scale up by hand with a full backpack on, in the rain. Are we having fun yet?

Trail getting rough!

This turned into one of those survival days. During the last few hours much of the forest part of the trail had turned into a stream, so I was walking in water with soaked boots. It was after 7:00 before I made it to Cloud Pond Lean-to in the rain, so I had only averaged 1.4 miles per hour on this dreary day. At the shelter there was an older couple and a young hiker who had gotten soaked, including his sleeping bag, and was shivering trying to get warm. With the hot water I fixed for my dinner of noodles, I made him my last hot chocolate to help warm him up. It was another difficult night to sleep well, especially with the guy next to me who snored louder than an old bear. He also emitted various other gross body noises during the night and early morning. I wondered why he was on one side of the shelter and she was on the other. They were really taking their time and going slow through the wilderness, so I do admire them for still being able to get out here.  That’s probably what some of these young kids think when they see me, except I can out hike most of them.

I woke up, somewhat, to a cloudy and wet day for my 8th day in hiking through the 100 Mile Wilderness (actually 114.5 from Katahdin).  It was to be a long 19.1 miles to the road leading to Monson. Again, the book showed just a few moderate climbs, but it was wrong. The weather did eventually clear and it became a beautiful day, but another long one, not reaching the road till 7:30. I finally got a hitch into Monson with a nice local farmer, even giving me some fresh produce he had. I checked into Lake Shore House, ate a good dinner, did laundry, and crashed.

On my zero day, my wife had set up for me to get another cortisone shot in my aching hip so I can finish this hike. I arranged for a local shuttle from Nancy to drive me to Augusta about 60 miles away. But after getting there, and spending a good part of the day to get here, I was told they could not do that type of shot. It appeared there was a communication problem between my Tulsa Doc and their office, so I was out of luck. So, I’ll just have to wait till I get to the next decent sized city, which will be in three weeks in Hanover, New Hampshire. Until then, I’ll just have to “deal with it-cowboy!”. I also bought another pad to sleep on, so I’ll double pad this old body, along with Advil, Tylenol PM, etc.  And, I’m getting my hammock back so I can stay out of crowded shelters with snoring, smelly guys.

Porcupine on the Trail

While eating breakfast this morning I looked over and was surprised to seep a hiker I’d met in late June in southern Virginia, Henry Sherman. Henry is a great guy, with a bad knee, laid off from his job, and an ex- wife back home. He is trying to hike the AT, and had to flip in central Virginia as most did and just finished the wilderness. It was great to see him again, and great that he’s still going. He may not do the whole trail this year, but he’s still heading south.  He’d lost some weight, as we all do, but is looking good.  He, like the young man from Alabama who had just left a failed marriage and sold his business, are using the AT experience to help rejuvenate their life and somehow get a fresh start. That’s why some are out here.  That’s good.  All have their reasons. I have mine, and while I do want to do this for personal accomplishment, it’s more about others.  Yes-our charities will benefit, with over $76,000 donated to date. I also hope to finish this for us “old guys”, and help be an example of just an average ol’ guy doing something adventurous, taking a risk, and doing something so difficult that it will challenge themselves and God has to be on it to succeed.  In the business world we call it a BHAG- a big, Harry, audacious goal.

Little Wilson Falls

So after a big breakfast tomorrow here in Monson I’m heading south. A moderate day tomorrow will be followed with some challenging sections in southern Maine, and then it’s on to the White Mountains in New Hampshire.

As we say on the trail – Happy Hiking!

Posted in AT2010 | 5 Comments »

There’s No Place Like Home

Monday, August 9th, 2010

After a non-eventful zero day in Buena Vista, Virginia, I hitched a ride up Highway 60 to where I had left off two days ago.  It was hot and humid again as I headed up a 2,000′ climb right off the bat up to the first ridge, where I did enjoy some good views of the valley below.  I did not know how my body would respond with a heavy pack on my back again climbing in the heat and humidity.  I took it slow, taking lots of breaks.  I did pass a group of three guys from the Natural Bridge AT Club doing their Wednesday maintenance on the trail.  Dave, Robert, and Norman were up on a hot day clearing trees from the trail that had fallen over.  Their club maintains a 90 mile section of the AT, again, on a volunteer basis as all do.  Although the trail passes through many two National Parks and eight National Forests, the actual maintenance is all done by faithful volunteers, who devote tens of thousands of hours annually to the maintenance and upkeep of the trail.  It is very much appreciated by hikers such as me.

The Central Virginia Mountains

I was moving slower and slower as the day progressed.  Gone were the days earlier in my journey when I could crank out average mileage at 2-3 miles per hour, going 16-20 miles per day.   On this day, it was all I could do to average about 1.5 per hour with all the breaks I was having to take due to the heat.  Water was drying up, as it was 4:00 in the afternoon until I passed a stream or spring with water in it.  I made the shelter at about 6:00 that evening, covering  just 14.5 miles that day.  I was somewhat surprised to see someone there, as the trail was about devoid of hikers now.   Russell, a middle-aged man from South Carolina and his daughter from college were on a father-daughter hike for a few days.  It was good to have company for once at a shelter, as the mice don’t carry on much of a conversation.

For just the second time in my trip, I actually had phone reception at the shelter, so I was able to call home.  I had just about made the decision to just fly home from Wayesborough, the next town on the AT.  While I would only be 161 miles from Harpers Ferry at Waynesborough, the heat was just miserable.  I began to question why I should struggle to cover just 15 miles or so per day now, if that, when I could be hiking this section in late October when the temperatures are much cooler, the trees are turning, and water should be plentiful.  I was feeling an urge to just go home.  I felt just like Forrest Gump did, at the end of his running adventure, when he said, “I’m tired now.  I think I’ll go home now.”   After hearing that my Dad had spent a day in the hospital due to a heart issue, the decision was final.  I told my wife to book a flight home from Waynesborough, and I’d fly home in a few days from Waynesborough.  I’d then be able to spend over two weeks at home to rest up, get some work done, see my family, and fly up to Maine on October 18th for my southbound trip.  My days of strenuous, sweaty, hot hiking with heat indexes over 100 would be over, as I’d enjoy much cooler weather up north.

I made arrangements to meet Lyle, my shuttle driver, down at the Tye River Valley at about 3:30 the next afternoon to catch a ride to Wayesborough with another hiker he was picking up there, so it worked out great.  I only had about 11.5 miles to do, with much of it downhill.  There was a difficult climb up the The Priest mountaintop at over 4,000′, before a

Tye River Valley

long, steep descent into the Tye River Valley.  Even on the downhill sections, I was having to stop, rest, and cool off about every 30 minutes or so.  At about 3:00, I made it down to the Tye River, dropped my pack, stripped down to my shorts, and plunged into the cold, clear river.  It felt great, and cooled me down right away.  The other hiker was already there, a section hiker from Maryland, soaking in the cold river.  We had a good 45 minute visit before Lyle got there to take us both to Waynesborough, and he graciously paid the entire shuttle fee for me, since I was doing this for charity (and I was about out of cash).  Lyle was quite the conversationist, telling story after story with expletives sprinkled throughout.  I was not looking forward to the damn 45 minute drive to the damn airport in two @#!*&! days.

I had been dreaming about eating at Ruby Tuesdays for two days, knowing there was one in Waynesborough.  Fresh fruits and vegetables are scarce on the trail, so I was craving the great salad bar there, along with their sweet fruit drinks.  After checking into the Comfort Inn and cleaning up, I mozied over to the restaurant for a great dinner of real food.  I was feeling a little better now.   I called Becky and told her I was just going to do a short 10.5 mile slackpack Friday, as it would Saturday before my flight left to go home to Tulsa.  I wasn’t that excited about hitting the trail again, but I did not want to just sit around all day.  The weather forcast was for cooler temperatures and lower humidity’s, so I figured I could do 10.5, with most of it downhill, and be OK. 

The heat had kicked my butt.  Up until this point, I was always confident I could do this, beating the odds and completing the AT.  I was feeling defeated though for the first time.  I began to question as to whether I could pull this AT adventure off.  I was not having fun.  I was missing my family.  I wasn’t going to quit, but I needed a serious break, and some cooler weather to hike in.  And I just couldn’t ignore that pull that I felt to just go home.

After eating breakfast, I staggered outside with a cup of coffee in my hands to head across the street to buy my two bottles of Poweraid for the day’s hike.  The first thing that hit me was that the weather was much cooler, with the cold front that had sparked some late afternoon storms the previous day passing through.  Then I looked and saw three of our managers–James, Dusty, and Rodney, standing next to a car in the parking lot, all with silly grins on their faces.  I thought I was seeing things, and staggered up to them asking them, “Why are you guys here?”  After reading my last blog, which apparently was kinda depressing, they decided to take a road trip and drive the 19 hours to where I was, find me on the trail, and hike with me on the AT.  They thought I needed some rejuvenation, and they were right.  I just couldn’t believe that they had driven all that way just to hike some of the AT and cheer me up.  Becky had not bought a plane ticket for me either, as they were going to drive me back home after our hike that day, and be home by Saturday evening.  Immediately, my mental and physical state turned around.  I was overwhelmed, and ready to hike even further that day, and get home by the next day.   Trail magic usually comes in unexpected ways from total strangers while on the AT.  I had experienced my share of trail magic, but I had not expected to have this type of trail magic from people that I knew–three of my employees.  It was really needed, and came at just the right time.  The Compassionater was in need of a little compassion himself.  It was one of the nicest things that someone had ever done for me. 

Three fresh neophyte AT hikers and one tired old hiker at the start of our 14.5 mile slackpack down to Rockfish Gap.

We enjoyed a brief 10 minute ride with Lyle up to a spot on the Blue Ridge Parkway which intersects with the AT, as he left us off there to hike the 14.5 miles down to Rockfish Gap.  I didn’t even need a daypack, as the other guys carried any water and snacks we needed for the hike.  It was an easy hike, with just over 700′  in elevation gain that day, and the rest being downhill or even somewhat level.  The trail was in good shape, and the weather was great.  I barely broke a sweat that day, and felt like I could hike all day for the the first time in weeks.   And the most important factor was that my mind and attitude were back in good shape.  It was so great to enjoy the company of friends, who had cared so much so as to drive 19 hours to hike the AT with a tired and discouraged hiker.

After finishing our easy hike of 14.5 miles that day, we were at Outback at 4:00 ready to eat.  We were going to drive about 5 hours into Kentucky, so that we could be back in Tulsa by dinner on Saturday.  On the way home, I received a call from Becky, with her excitedly telling me that our new granddaughters were going to be born that afternoon in Tulsa.  Our daugher-in-law, Brittany, was not due for a month, but the doctors determined that the babies needed to be delivered that day.  A little over an hour later, I received word that Emma and Riley Johnson were brought into this world, were healthy, and were the most beautiful little girls in the world!  What a day!  What a difference in my mental and emotional state had occured in just one day.  I was again reminded as to what a great God we have, and how he  uses the people in our world to give this tired, dejected, old hiker a renewed joy and reason for doing what he’s doing.

So as I write now, I’m back in Tulsa for over two weeks.  It’s good to be home now with my family, friends, and even at work.  I’ll be able to spend some time with my grandkids, with my Dad, my wife, and with Katie and Luke before they head off to college.   I will re-plan my trip, for my southbound journey now, as I head down to Rockfish Gap from Maine, ending up sometime in early November now.   I’ll be evaluating my gear, adding some cold-weather clothes to my mix, and trying to add some spice and variety to my trail diet.  I’ll be eating allot, and working out, to try to add about ten pounds and get my weight back up to 185, my starting weight from two months ago.  I’ll get my new ultra-light fishing rod, as I’ll be catching and eating trout as I head south through Maine and New England.

I’ve learned allot over the first two months of my AT journey.  I’ve learned  even more about the trail, which will help me on the second half of my journey.  I’ve learned more about myself.  I’ve been somewhat surprised that I became lonely at times, especially over the past few weeks upon my return to the trail.  The heat has driven most people off the trail in Virginia, and most days I saw few, if any people.  I’ve always kinda liked some solitude, and was always OK with being by myself at times.  That in fact is one of the good traits of an entrepreneur, as you are on your own in most cases the first year, and even beyond.  One has to be able to thrive working by himself and having it all fall on their shoulders.  I’m not a real social guy, and don’t need to surround myself with allot of social interaction to be happy either.

But I’ve realized that we all need people.  We especially need the relationships we care about the most–our family and friends.  Meeting new people is great and stimulating.  We can learn alot about things we know little about.  And it’s great to help strangers and to be helped by total strangers.  But what really matters most is not necessarily the breadth of relationships, but the depth of close relationships.  In fact, one of the podcasts I listened to while hiking the trail spoke of research on what makes people happy.  It’s not money, health, vocation, where we live, stuff we own, etc.   It’s relationships.  It’s who we spend time with, how we influence and help those people, and how we allow them to influence us.  In a word, it’s love.

The scenery on the AT has been magnificent at times.  It’s been fun to see and experience a part of America that is often unseen.  It’s been rewarding to take on this challenge and succeed.  But it’s the people we meet and experience while on the AT, and the people we long for and miss while on the trail, that really matter.

So I have over two weeks to get back into the reality of life away from the Appalachian Trail.  I’ll be working to get some of my strength and weight back at the dinner table and by working out at Sky Health & Fitness in Tulsa.  I have some difficult climbs coming up in the mountains of Maine and New England, so I cannot get lazy and get out of shape.  I have work to do at the office.  And I’ll be spending time with the people I care about the most, including my new twin granddaughters.  On August 18th I’ll be ready to hit the trail again, with new scenery and adventures coming my way.  I’ll be running into many northbound thru-hikers heading to Mt. Katahdin, who started their journey heading north way back in March, April, or May.  It’ll be fun and interesting to share our adventures, and trade stories and advice about the trail up ahead.   I will not finish this thru-hike on October 1st as planned, but I will finish. 

Back home holding Emma and Riley Johnson. Don't ask which one is which.

As in life, I’d had some unexpected stuff happen, some changes, and some really hot weather!  I’ve had to modify, adjust, re-plan, and make some changes.  I’ll still get there, but by taking a slightly different path and timetable.  That’s OK.  The journey will still be complete, and in the end, it will be all about compassion–about helping others.  There’s no way I could hike the entire Appalachian Trail if it was just about me doing something adventurous.  It’s too long, and too difficult.  I will thru-hike the AT in 2010.  I’ll be climbing Mt. Katahdin soon, and heading south through the 100-mile wilderness in Maine, on my way to completing this journey in early November.

The LORD has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy.    Psalm 126:3

Posted in AT2010, Appalachian Trail, Tulsa Charity, Virginia | 1 Comment »

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 | 24 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 »

The Appalachian Trail: A Guest Hiker’s Perspective

Tuesday, June 29th, 2010

P6260095

I spent last week with Brad on the AT, hiking 123 miles in 7 days averaging about 17.6 miles per day with our longest day at just over 24 miles. I am back home now with sore feet and a sore back with a bunch of insect bites and a only a few pounds lighter, but with a new perspective of the AT and the challenges Brad is facing. Most days we hiked for nine or ten hours, generally climbing up or going down. If there is a flat section of the trail, we didn’t find it. Average elevation was 3,000 to 4,000 feet. Our highest point was above 6,500 feet and lowest around 2,000 feet.

The AT is a great asset enjoyed by many hikers every year. Because of Brad’s late start, we mostly ran into section hikers, those only hiking part of the trail. Some are hiking a section every year for a week or two until they finish the entire trail and some are just hiking a section and may or may not return for more. Some were fathers and daughters hiking together, some were hiking with a friend and some were hiking alone. Some were college students out for a summer adventure. Some were temporarily out of work due to the down economy and using the time to do something positive in the interim. For me it was an opportunity to spend a week experiencing the trail, encouraging a tired friend who had already hiked well over 300 miles when I joined him, and to see if I could physically handle the aggressive distances Brad had planned for the week.

110The section I hiked from Erwin, Tennessee to Damascus, Virginia is primarily a trail through the woods. I rarely saw the sun the first couple days because of the dense forests. There were lots of orange lizards about three to four inches long, wild mushrooms of every color and shape you can imagine, millions of trees, lots of brush, streams, lakes, waterfalls and a seemingly endless trail in front of me. We saw a few snakes, wild turkey, deer, one bear, a raccoon and a game bird which might have been a grouse along with the usual birds and insects along the trail. We did hike one day mostly in the sun through an area called “the Balds”, which had fantastic views and tons of wild blueberries still a few days from being ripe. We snacked on wild strawberries for a few days and found ripe blackberries one day.

We slept in shelters in the woods two nights, hostels four nights and the Lazy Fox B&B one night. One night we camped in the woods by a spring. Brad had his hammock and I slept on the ground. Just as I dozed off, Rocky the Raccoon woke me up trying to get my backpack. I got my flashlight on him and tried to hit him with my hiking pole. He knew he had the upper hand and just got outside my reach and smirked at me. I tossed rocks at him but didn’t connect. Rocky finally made it over to the tree where we had tied up our food about 12 feet above ground to keep it from the bears. He was up on the limb we tied it to trying to figure out how to get it. He finally gave up and disappeared again. I finally dozed off to be awakened again by Rocky trying to steal Brad’s backpack. This time I was able to nail him with a big rock and he headed off at a dead run. I really hope Rocky’s head is still hurting today. We ran into a guy later who had all of his food stolen by a raccoon.

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I think the most enjoyable part of the hike is meeting and getting to know others on the trail. Hikers congregate at the shelters and hostels in the evenings for dinner and a place to sleep. Some of the stories from the trail are quite interesting and sometimes funny. Bill from Wisconsin told us about losing one of his boots to a bear who stole it out of the campground at night. The next day the bear was still hanging around carrying his boot by the shoe strings. He eventually got it back but not before being chased away by the bear at least once. Mike from Tampa told us about hiking up the start of the trail with his new wife (many years ago). She cried the whole way up. She signed in at the start that she couldn’t believe she had made it that far. After sleeping in a mice-filled shelter that night, she froze. She wouldn’t hike further up the trail and she wouldn’t hike back down. He finally convinced a guy to give them a ride down that evening in the bucket of a piece of heavy equipment when he had finished his days work. There was a lot more to his story, but I can only give you the abbreviated version.

If any of you we met on the trail make it to this web-site, thanks for making my hike a great memory: Mike and daughter Julianne from Tampa, Henry and daughter Erin from Atlanta (Erin had driven up to see her dad for Father’s Day), Bill (trail name One Boot) and daughter Lexi (strong hiker only 12 years old carry 25 pound backpack) from Madison, Wi, Al from Rochester, Phil (trail name Tanker), Hannah (trail name Minesweeper), Bob and Seiko (Kincora Hostel), Mary and Terry (Harbor Mountain B&B won the best breakfast award) and Miss Jenny at the Lazy Fox B&B in Damascus.

037We also met a few nice people who gave us a can of coke or much needed water and even a delicious cold apple. A small church left an ice chest of pop and cookies on the trail to give a little boost to the tired hikers before the next climb upward.

I am looking forward to following the rest of Brad’s journey to complete his hike of the AT. When I saw him last he had lost 28 pounds. This is way too much for a guy who was already fit when he started. He was finally healing up some of the blisters on his feet, but still had some problems and experiencing significant pain in his feet. I think he bought his 4th pair of boots in Damascus. I hope you will also follow his journey and support his mission to raise $100,000 for Tulsa charities. He is making a significant sacrifice and effort to help others in need and I am proud to call him my friend.

Steve Hildebrand

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Posted in AT2010, Appalachian Trail | 1 Comment »

Virginia!

Saturday, June 26th, 2010

After starting my journey on May 28 from Springer Moutain in Georgia, I’ve finished the 1st quarter of my AT thru-hike.  In 27 days of actual hiking, I’ve covered 463 hard miles, averaging 17.2 miles per day, with 2 zero days.  If it were not for the unscheduled zero day after that first week due to the infected toes, I’d be right on schedule.  Today, I’m taking an unplanned zero day here at the Lazy Fox Inn in Damascus, Virginia.  My feet are sore, I’m tired, and my big concern is that I’ve lost way too much weight–about 28 lbs!   I weighed a trim 184 when I left, and was shocked to weigh in at a paltry 156 last night.  It’s been exceptionally hot for here, even up in the mountains, and very humid.  I have a very high metabolism rate, and could always eat alot and not gain weight.  Over the past few weeks though, it’s catching up with me, burning a ton of calories and not being able to eat enough.  I felt my normal strength begin to fade yesterday particularly with the uphill climbs.  And you know it’s bad when my wedding ring of almost 30 years falls off my skinny little fingers!

My first helping at Mt. Harbour breakfast!

My good friend Steve and I enjoyed the

Hey Steve--get a little closer to that snake!

best breakfast of our lives four days ago as we left Mountain Harbour B&B and Hostel.  Mary, our host, outdid herself, with a spread right out of Southern Living.  It was awsome, as we enjoyed a great breakfast in her home with about 12 of our new trail friends.  We were refreshed heading back uphill into the mountains, the Kincora Hiking Hostell.  We were slackpacking 24.4 miles that day, and it began to get very hot.  Even without the heavy regular pack, it was a long, hard day, with many hard climbs, dips, and climbs again.  Steve walked right over a 5′ black snake that day right on the trail–didn’t even see it till I told him he’d just walked over a big snake.  Then he jumped after the fact.  Have heard of several hikers seeing rattlesnakes, but to our knowledge, have not passed one by.  If Steve can’t even see a 5′ black snake though right in the trail, I’ll bet we’ve walked by several rattlers without even knowing it.

We rolled into Kincora at about 6:15, and met the legendary Bob Peoples, along with Seiko.  Bob had operated Kinora Hiking Hostel for many years for hikers, all for a small donation.  He does it out of a love for the mountains.  Bob and Seiko are both experts on the AT, having thru-hiked it many times over the years.  After driving us into town for Arbys and re-supply, we had a decent night of sleep and left early for a hard trip up past Laurell Falls, Pond Flats,  down to Lake Watouga, and then up to our next shelter.     

Laurell Falls

It was very hot as we got to the lake at about 1:00, where there was a nice swimming beach.  We stripped to our shorts and swam in the cool water, which was so refreashing after a hard morning of hiking.  As you would expect, a nice local named Jack recognized us as hikers, and gave us both a cold Pepsi, which really hit the spot.  We visited with Jack for awhile, and rested about two hours, before gearing back up and heading back up.  It was hotter still in the afternoon.  We hiked up and along the lake all afternoon, before coming to our last gap, which was about 3 miles from our shelter.  We were out of water, and it would be awhile before the next spring.  So, we rested in the shade, before a car came up the little lake road.  Waving down the car asking for water, a nice young man named Jeremy did even better, giving us two cold cokes.  Two pops in one day–just when we needed them!  That gave us just enough of a boost for the 1,000′ climp up to our destination.   We finally reached the spring, about .9 miles down from the shelter at about 6:45.  We were tired, so decided to just camp there in the woods for the night.

I slept in my Henley Hammock, but Steve had to lay his pad and bag on the ground.   I was awakened in the middle of the night with Steve shining his flashlight, throwing rocks, and yelling at a racoon.  Seems that a racoon rules that little gap, pouncing on hikers leaving their food and gear out.  The racoon was trying to get into Steve’s pack first, and after scaring it away, he starts dragging my pack down the trail later on.  He even was up in the tree trying to get our food sacks, which were tied high away from bears.  He was not afraid of Steve and his holloring and rocks, until he nailed it in the head with a rock.  He then decided to move on.  The rest of the night, every stick or sound from the forrest, Steve was sure it was a bear coming to step on him.  I had in fact seen my third bear earlier about two miles back on the trail.  As usuall, he ran uphill and disappeared in a hurry as soon as he saw us.

It was meant to be!

The next day we awoke to a breeze and cooler weather, which was nice for hiking.  We had alot of uphills, with the usuall gaps, dips, and curves.  Hiking mainly along the tops of ridges, we could still see the large lake we swam in the previous day, from about 2,000′ up on the ridge.  We passed, and then were later passed, by Al from Rochester, NY, Bill and his 12 year-old daughter, Lexie from Madison WS.  We all enjoyed some trail magic again at just the right time in the late afternoon, with a metal box full of snacks, Cokes, and Dr. Pepper along the trail, provided by the local Baptist Church.  See… Baptists aren’t so bad after all!   Again regenerated, we suddenly were out of the woods and hiked in a rare clearing of less than a mile.  This was a very nice section, with gentle slopes, which is actually a handicapped section of the AT.  We all arrived at Double Springs Shelter at about the same time,  just before a little thinderstorm hit.  After some good conversation and dinner of freeze-dried mexican rice and lasagne, we hit the sack. 

The rare Grays Lilly. The only place it grows in the world is on the balds of the southern Appalachians.

Steve and I wake up and left on the trail before the sun even came up the next day, as we wanted to take advantage of the slightly cooler morning weather, and get the 18 miles to Damascus, VA in time to get checked in, eat a good late lunch, do laundry, take a shower, and all the other necessecites after 3-4 days on the trail.  It became very hot in the afternoon, especially dropping down into Damascus below 2,000′ .  Out of water, soaking in sweat, dog tired (sounding familiar?), I had to use the garden hose from the first little house on the AT as it came into town.  Probably not the first time that hose has quenched a thirsty hiker.  Damascus is a hiker town, with the AT going right through it.  Trail Days is held here in May, with thousands of past and current hikers, along with vendors and friends of the trail, converging for a few days of celebration. 

We limped into the Mt. Rogers Outfitters first to check on accomodations.  Phil had an in with Ms. Ginny at the Lazy Fox Inn, so we were fortunate to get the only good room that night.  I was about “hostelled-out”, and wanted a real bed, with a good shower, air conditioning, and a good breakfast….and no spiders.  After scarfing down pizza and a cheeseburger at 3;30, we claened up, got our chores done, and went to have dinner a few hours later, throwing down a big steak.  After weighing myself, and looking at myself in the mirror, I was shocked as to how thin I’d become, so I was determined to gain some weight back by eating like crazy.  Hikers are know for their gargantuous appetites after hiking the AT for a long time eating granola bars, oatmeal, and freeze-dried food, so I was not going to disappoint. 

After a fair night of sleep in a real bed, Steve was off to Tulsa, getting a ride back to Erwin, TN for his car, and then the long drive to Tulsa.  Doesn’t seem fair–him being able to take one day to drive 750 miles or so to Tulsa, and I take a month to walk 463 miles! 

Typical flowers on a southern Appalachian bald.

On this zero day, I’ve had another great breakfast, sharing it with two nice young families from Florida–Karl & Megan and Shannon & Corne’.  I ate and ate, while they watched me devour plate after plate of breakfast goodies Ms. Ginny had fixed.  While sitting on the shady front porch in the cool of the morning enjoying a rare cup of coffee, I thought again as to how fortunate I am to be able to thru-hike the AT.  Things are going just fine at work it seems, even without my presence there this summer.  Quite frankly, LawnAmerica is one of the best lawncare companies of our type anywhere in the country.  The fact that the owner can take an adventure of this magnitude for what looks like five months, in the economy we are in, and still grow 14%, with decent profits, and customer service ratings that are off the charts, speaks highly of our staff, and how God has blessed our business.  

I’m thankful that I can physically do this.  It’s been a big challenge.  There is a reason that 25% don’t even make it out of Georgia.  I think sometimes of the kids at the Little Lighthouse, one of the charities we are supporting.   For some, it’s a challenge to walk around the block.  I’ll do it for them.  I think of the people who struggle to find shelter, as I do sometimes on the trail.  The Salvation Army shows compassion to them.  I think of the families in Tulsa and everywhere who don’t live in decent housing as most of us do.  Habitat for Humanity shows compassion to them, by providing to as many as possible.  The teenagers at Tulsa Rogers have many challenges that we didn’t have in the class of 1972.  Those kids need compassion, and Young Life does it well by getting into the lives of teenagers.  And, the families of our brave soldiers who have paid the ultimate price, by giving their lives for our country in battle–they need compassion for sure.  Folds of Honor, a fairly new charity,  based right out of the Tulsa area, provides compassioin to those kids and families who have lost their Dad or Mom.  Believe me–with our oldest son Jake serving now in the US Marines in southern Afgahistan, and our youngest son Luke on his way to be a Marine office–those soldiers and their families are on my mind as I walk the trail.

I’ve completed the 1st quarter, and I feel good about what I’ve accomplished so far.  I could not have done it if it were not for others.  We are currently at about $62,000 towards our goal of $100,00.  We’re doing great, but we need folks to donate.  I expect to surpass the goal, before I complete this journey. 

My weight loss is a concern, so I have decided to adjust my schedule to finish this.  Originally, I had a plan to finish in Maine at Mt. Katahdin on Oct. 1st, going about 18 miles per day.  My plan was detailed, but as with any plan, we have to adjust according to the circumstances and unforseen stuff that happens.  After listenting to wise people along the trail, some who have hiked it many times, I’ve decided to do what’s called a flip flop.  I’ll push on through Virgininia for another 549 miles to Harper’s Ferry, the symbolic halfway point on the AT.  I’ll slow it down to about 16.3 miles per day, and take a few more zero days to rest and rejuvinate.  After all, even God just worked 6 days, and then rested on the 7th.  I’ll try hiking for about 9 and resting on the 10th.  In very early August after reaching Harpers Ferry, I’ll fly home for a week of rest, check on my business, see my familiy, and hopefully see our new grandaughters born while I’m home.  I’ll then fly to Maine, climb Mt. Katahdin, and become a SOBO (southbounder) down to Harpers Ferry.  With this, I’ll enjoy much better weather, escape the mosquito season in the mid-atlantic, avoid the lack of water in Pennsylvania during the summer, and be able to take more time to enjoy the AT.  While most people do go north ending at Katahdin, some do go south the total time, and some do a flip-flop.  It works for me at this point.

Hey, I’ve proven to myself and to a few pundits that I can do this–going faster and farther than probably 95% of the people who even try to hike the AT.  Nobody has passed me.  Since I started so late, most people recommended I do a flip-flop to insure I can complete the whole trail.  I’ll meet many NOBOS on my way down in August and September.   Part of this adventure, or for that matter, everything in life, is to enjoy it.  When life, or hiking the AT, becomes more of a stamina contest and drudgery, then changes need to be made.   Life is hard.  Business is hard.  Even things like being a Dad or a Husband can be hard at times.  It should also be fun though, and most often is for me.  The AT is defiinatelly hard, but I want it to be more fun.  So, I’ll slow it down, be able to take more time to visit with even more people, do more things, enjoy the towns I pass, and even take my fishing pole up in Maine and New England so I can catch my own trout dinners along the AT.  That will put some meat back on my bones!

So after a good zero day here in Damascus, I’m ready to hit the trail again tomorrow.  Phil from Mt. Rogers Outfitters did a great job of helping me with my aching feet and boot problem.  I bought my fourth pair of boots, with a new pair of inserts, and new socks.  He showed me how to better lace up my boots, and he fixed my broken zipper on my pack.  I had to buy a new shirt, as I’m down to a medium shirt now instead of a large.  I need to start doing pushups every day or chinups from a tree branch I guess, as my upper body gets no excercise.  It’s all in the legs an my rump, along with a strong back. 

On the porch at the Lazy Fox before Steve heads home.

I’ll have my Virgina Tech hat on for the next month, as I travel northeast.  I do appreciate the comments, encouragement, and prayers that are referrenced to on my blog.  I don’t have time or good enough internet connections to respond to each one, but I do read them.  They are encouraging, and help me to persevere. 

Phillipians 4:13

The Compassionater

Posted in AT2010, Appalachian Trail, Charity, Lawn America | 3 Comments »

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