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KaBoom!

Tuesday, October 5th, 2010

As I left the White Mountains in New Hampshire, the trail on the AT gradually became less rocky, less steep, and much less difficult.   My feet were now walking more on dirt, leaves, and pine needles compared to rocks and roots. 

The Vermont forest was exploding with fall color.

The forest changed, with taller trees, more varieties such as Oaks, with more of the colors of fall showing their brilliance.  I only had two days of hiking, going about 18 miles each day, before meeting my wife, Becky, outside of Hanover, NH.  It had been five weeks since I left for northern Maine, so we were anxious to see each other.  My hip was hurting, but the thought of spending ten days with my wife, carrying only a daypack for ten days as she slackpacked me from town to town, sleeping in real beds, eating good food, and finally getting the cortisone injection in my hip energized me, along with the more moderate trail conditions.

I did cross paths with one northbound couple whom I had met back in July in central Virginia.  Dreamcatcher and Kadiddle were hiking north while filming hikers answering the question, “What would you do if you were ten times bolder in making a difference in our world?”  I don’t think that was the exact question, but it’s close.  They actually interviewed and filmed me, which is part of their website they have developed.  It was an easy question for me, as I’m doing it–hiking the entire AT and raising $100K for charities.  It was and is a bold, and risky move, to do this and tell thousands about it.  I don’t know if I could be doing this, if I had not publicly committed to this, and be doing it for others also.  They had taken off some time on the trail, and did not know if they were going to make it to Mt. Katahdin before winter sets in.  I wished them well, and hope that they can make it. 

A Vermont valley in fall.

As I raced down the final mountain towards the road where Becky was going to meet me at 5:00, she was not there yet.  I walked down the road some, where she pulled up in her white Jeep Compass rental car to greet me.  I was very tired, and my knees and hip were still sore from southern Maine and the White Mountains, but was so glad to see her.   We went to a little B&B in Lyme, which is about 15 miles outside of Hanover.  Our plan was to hop from little town to town, staying in different places for the most part each day, while I hiked my 15-20 miles per day with just my daypack on.  It was great. 

The next day, I hiked on into the outskirts of Hanover.  It was another beautiful day of hiking, with cool and sunny weather, mild trail conditions, along with the ever changing colors of fall giving the forest a glow of yellow, orange, and red.  I was back to hiking at a pace of about 2.5-3 miles per hour, so I could cover my 15-20 miles without hiking from dawn to dusk.  And, without my full backpack, it was much less strain on my body, giving me a chance to recover from the previous five weeks of strenuous hiking.  And the best thing was that every day I could pack my 20 oz. bottle of Coke, with a big bag of potato chips, and other snack food, and enjoy a cold Coke at lunch. 

On Saturday, Becky took me down the trail into Vermont, where on this day I would hike northbound back into Norwich and on into Hanover, where she would meet me for lunch there.  I’d then keep hiking north to where I ended up the previous day.  It was a perfect, sunny and cool day, with some of the

A perfect fall day for hiking!

 easiest (or moderate, as nothing is really easy on the AT) trail conditions and grade I’d experienced on the AT.  It was a little after noon, as the trail sent me along a side street in Norwich, along nice country homes with beautiful lawns and landscapes, before heading into the main highway leading from Norwich into Hanover.  It was actaully nice to see homes with landscaping and nice lawns again.  I’ve been in the woods mainly for months on end, and the woods are beautiful.   A nice home lawn and landscape, a beautiful green football or baseball field, or a nice city park are just as nice though.  They have a beauty of their own, and that is what we do in my business.  I’m proud of what we do.  And, if LawnAmerica were up here in New Hampshire, we’d have these lawns I’m seeing look even nicer that what they do! 

Downtown Hanover, New Hampshire, where the AT crosses Main Street.

On this section of the AT, the trail actually goes right through town, along a sidewalk on busy streets, with real people (not AT hikers–we’re not real), shops, and all the stuff of civilization.  Becky was there to meet me there at a park in Norwich, so we decided to just drive into Hanover a mile or so down the road, eat lunch at a downtown restaurant, and then continue hiking the short distance to the outskirts of Hanover where I had left of the day before.   It was a perfect day, with perfect weather, I was with my wife, and I was feeling good.

Hanover is the home of Dartmouth College, and it happened to be a Saturday when they were playing a home football game.  The streets were very busy with cars and people, either going to the game or just enjoying the fall Saturday afternoon.  It was a very different atmosphere compared to my world for the past five weeks since starting on the trail again in Maine.  Parking places were hard to come by, so after driving around for several minutes, we spotted one on the other side of the road.  So I pulled the car over to the side a little, checked on traffic, I think, and then–KABOOM!!  Out of nowhere, I saw a car whack my white Jeep Compass rental car on my side with a loud boom, as I was trying to make a u-turn in downtown Dartmouth.  

The lady in the big Chevy Suburban was OK, and we were OK.  I was so mad at myself for doing such a stupid thing.  What had I done?  Had I forgotten how to drive, after spending five weeks hiking on the trail?  A perfect day had suddenly turned into a nightmare, as I got out and looked at our car with the front bumper hanging off to the side, and her car with a smash along the right side.  Becky was the driver on the rental agreement, and I had not even thought about the fact that I was now driving, with the possibility of our insurance not covering this wreck.  I was so mad at myself for doing such a stupid thing.  I was kicking the car, like it was the car’s fault or something.  I was ridiculing myself.  If my legs were limber enough, I’d kick myself in the rear.  The police officer was really nice, took all the information, and sent us on our way.  We thought the car was driveable, but after a few blocks, it was clear that it was totally whacked out of line.  So, we called AAA for a tow to the nearest Thrifty Car Rental office, which was closed for that day.  We spent a frustrating afternoon getting our wrecked car to Thrifty, finding another rental car from another company, and making all the calls to our insurance company and to Thrifty.  One irony of the whole deal is that Dollar Thrifty, based right out of Tulsa, is one of our five major sponsors of our journey.  And I went and wrecked one of their cars!

I was so mad, frustrated, and embarrased with all of this happening on a day which had started out so perfect.  Was I going to let this incident ruin our whole day, or our whole week together, after looking forward to it for so long?  It’s not like I’m a bad driver, as this was only the third little wreck I’ve had in 40 years of driving.  They’ve all been “little” fender benders, which of course can add up to thousands of dollars in repair costs and increased insurance premiums.  I hate to waste money, or see money just go down the drain, and this incident to me seemed a case of just that.  I decided to do what I really need to be doing now anyway–hike the AT.  So after picking up our new rental car, with Becky driving now, she dropped my off on the AT late that afternoon, from where I hiked back into Hanover.

The quietness and serinity of the woods helped me to clear my head, and my thoughts.   It wasn’t going to do any good to beat myself up over this.  It was a mistake, albeight it a stupid mistake, on my part.  I had about a two second lapse in judgement, in trying to make a u-turn on a busy street.  I don’t know if I checked my mirrors and their were blind spots, or if I just forgot to check.  I know driving a strange car, in a different environment, and without being behind the wheel for five weeks played a  part, but it’s no excuse.   I screwed up, plain and simple.  It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last time, that I make a mistake, but I decided not to dwell on it, learn from it, get over it, and not let it happen again. 

KaBooms happen in life all the time.  Everthing is going well, life is good, and then–KaBoom!  Out of nowhere you get whacked.  In the business world, their can be all types of KaBooms.   Some can be brought on yourself, such as prideful and arrogant decisions, moral failures, or dishonest practices–KaBoom!  Some can occur due to no fault of yourself, such as a sudden downturn in the economy, change in laws or regulations, dishonest employees, or natural disasters–KaBoom!    Whatever the case, they can come out of nowhere, catch us offguard, and change things overnight.

KaBooms happen in our personal and family lives.  Dad, my girlfriend is pregnant–KaBoom!   You’re 35 years old and you’ve discovered you have cancer–KaBoom!   Honey, I don’t love you anymore and want to leave–KaBoom!  The business you work at goes belly-up and you loose your job–KaBoom!  A few seconds or few minutes of stupidity, a temporary lapse in judgement, or years of  neglect and poor decisions can cause a KaBoom.  Or, they can happen even when you are doing all the right things, and through no fault of your own.

I decided in my case, to just get over it, learn from it, forgive myself, and not let it ruin our trip.  In the big scheme of things, this will be just a bump in the road, or the trail in my case.  By the time I was finished walking my six miles on the AT, and met Becky on a street in Hanover, I was OK.  This KaBoom was far from being the worst thing that had happened to me in my life, although it was tough to deal with on this sunny afternoon in New Hampshire.  But as one of my favorite authors, Og Magdino, wrote in his classic book “The Greatest Salesman in the World”, “This too shall pass.”

Two days later, we turned in our temporary car to the other company, and the nice people at Thrifty in rented us another car, as a cheaper cost, and waived the extra fees in order to drop it off in Boston a week later.   So now, we’re driving our third rental car–very, very, carefully.  Actually Becky is driving, as I’m a little scared to drive right now.  As I blogged about two months ago—use it or loose it.  I must have temporarily lost my driving skills and reactions, after doing nothing but walk for five weeks and more. 

The next several days, I hiked about 19 miles each day, enjoying great fall scenery and moderate trail conditions.  We stayed at  B&B’s in small New Hampshire towns such as Killington, Danby, and Manchester Center.  Manchester Center in particular was very nice, with many nice shops and restaurants.  It’s kinda the equivalent of Branson to us common folk in the mid-west for the wealthy people in New York, Boston, and the Northeast

Johnny SeeSaws outside of Manchester, VT.

cities.  Stuff is very expensive compared to Oklahoma.  There were many very nice B&B’s, and very expensive, which were out of our price range.  We were lead to several restaurants that were “casual” and “moderately priced”.  They may have been to them, but to us common folk in Oklahoma, they seemed to be very expensive.  It’s all relative.  The area was all very nice though, with the beautiful fall foliage adding to the experience.  We are there at the peak of the “leaf peepers” season, and many of the lodging places had jacked up their rates due to the high demand during this season. 

I continued to day hike even longer days going now almost directly south though the Green Mountains of western New Hampshire.  On one day, a tropical weather system moved in along the entire east coast, and drenched Vermont with about 5″ of rain.  I took a zero day, in anticipation of a rainy day, but it really did not rain that much until that night.  It rained all night

I could hop across this brook two days ago before the rain.

and into the next day, for a total of over 5″ of rain, as I walked 18 miles in the soaking rain that day.  A small brook which two days ago I could hop across was now a raging river.    It was amazing the amount of rainfall coming off the mountains, with every little mountainside intermittent creekbed filled with water flowing down into the creeks.  The creeks were all raging with whitewater.  Thankfully, they all had bridges across them to cross.  Otherwise, there is no way I could have made a stream crossing that day.   Much of the day was spent hiking in standing water and mud, as the trail had turned into a creek in many places.  My wet, cold feet were numb by days

Thanks for the bridge!

end.  I hiked with Monkeyback this day, whom I had hiked with a few days up in Maine.  He was still heading south to Connecticut, his final destination for his flip-flop AT hike.  We’re both fast hikers, so it was good to have him with me as we sloshed through the water an mud that day.

The storm cleared, and I enjoyed three more beautiful days of slackpacking, going on average 20 miles per day, ending up just short of the Vermont/Massachusetts line.   One interesting thing I’ve seen allot in the woods of Vermont are the remnants of old colonial settlements from over

This old settlers wall was built along what appears to be a very old road, which is not part of the AT.

200 years ago.  The settlers would build their fencelines by stacking rocks along their property, usually about 2-4′ high.  It looked like allot of work to find the rocks and carefully stack them, so that the fence would be secure.  They are still standing in most places to this day. 

I had to say goodbye to my wife, and put on my full backpack again, as I set out on the trail again headed south to Massachusetts.  I did 18.5 miles as I crossed into Massachusetts that first day, and then up and over Mt. Greylock the next day.  Mt. Greylock, at 3,491′, is the highest peak in Massachusetts, so the AT naturally went up it.

At the top of Mt. Greylock on a cool, foggy day.

  It was a very cool, windy, foggy day, so I had no views up on top.  This will be the last big mountain I’ll do on the AT as I head south to Harpers Ferry.  I was disappointed that the mountain was enveloped in the clouds that day.  I did get to enjoy a nice lunch at the lodge and restaurant at the top of the mountain though. 

One of the most rewarding experiences of hiking the AT often comes at the end of a long day of hiking.  Maybe it’s the last day of several days of staying in shelters, and you’re going into a small town to stay at a hotel, hostel, or lodge.   Or better yet, you have a zero day planned the next day, so you’ll be staying two days in that town, enjoying all the comforts of home, with a good bed, hot shower, clean clothes, and good food.  You’ve done a good job of hiking, met your mileage goals, are on schedule, but you’re tired, dirty, and hungry.  Several miles away from your final destination for the day, often a road or highway crossing, you begin to hear the roar of the cars.  You may spot the town and signs of civilization several thousand feet below from on top of the ridge.  You get excited, and begin to walk at a quicker clip, often downhill.  The roads and towns are usually located in the valleys, so you usually drop down from the mountain or ridge into the towns.  It seems to take forever, as the sounds of the highway or town get louder and louder.  You finally see the road or highway, and maybe some cars.  Then, you come out of the woods, and suddenly come into the light of the ”real world” with the highway, road, or the town itself.  You’re there!  You’ve finally made it!  And you feel so great to be finished with your day and now so close to being rejuvenated with the comforts of the real world. 

I’ve found that the feeling that I have coming down off the mountain in these cases is very similar to the feeling I’ve had for many years at home.  I’ve put in a good, but hard day at work, done well, and maybe gotten dirty.  I’ve made some great sales, seen success with employees, made a bunch of customers happy, done allot of production, whatever the case may be.  I’m on schedule towards meeting my goals.  It’s been a great day at work, but I’m anxious to get home to enjoy my family.  As I drive home, the familiar scenes bring me closer and closer to my family and my home, and I become relieved and content.  As I pull into the driveway, the feeling that I’m home is finally here.  When the kids were younger, they’d often be around to greet me and bring a smile to my face (I’m talking pre-teen here!).  Now that the kids are all gone, I guess the pressure in on my wife to help give me that same rewarding feeling after coming home from a long, but good day at work.

As of tomorrow, I’ll be off  AT for a few days to go see my son Jake and his family.  I’ve not seen him since Christmas, since he’s been in Afghanistan for seven months.  A friend and business associate from Massachusetts, Jim Mello, will pick my up in Cheshire, drive me to New York City, from where I’ll hop on a plane the next day to fly to Camp LeJeune in North Carolina.  I’ve never been to New York City, so I’m anxious to just spend a day there to check it out.  Our other son, Luke, will fly into North Carolina also from college, so we’ll all hang out for a few days together.  When I return from my brief trip, I’ll be on the home stretch of my journey ending up at Harpers Ferry in early November.  The trail will be some of the more moderate on the AT, so I should be able to do my 18 miles per day average OK.  That’s assuming that I don’t have another big KaBoom or anything!

Posted in AT2010, Appalachian Trail, Charity | 4 Comments »

It’s All Downhill Now–Almost

Sunday, September 26th, 2010

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

The weather has turned cold--especially up high.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Much of my time above timberline was in the clouds.

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

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

Going up Mt. Lafayette.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just Give Me My Bacon

Monday, September 13th, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

Bob and his Honda trail car.

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

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

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

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

The Notch

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

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

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

Bull dog picking his way through the AT!

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

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

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

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

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

Leaving Maine

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally... some bacon!

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

Happy Hiking!

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

The Pain of Maine

Saturday, September 4th, 2010

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

Piece Pond Waterfalls

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

Mama moose and baby.

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

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

Dinner Time

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

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

Cool break on a hot day!

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

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

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

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

View south from summit of Avery Peak

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

Common trail in Maine–can you find the trail?

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

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

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

Just follow the white blazes!

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

Another hot, hazy day in the Maine mountains.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Virginia Blues

Monday, July 26th, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jurassic 2 from Switzerland

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Hand of God

Wednesday, July 14th, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

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

Running a ridge in Virgina

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

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

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

The Captain zipping my pack accross the creek

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

The Captain

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

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

Dannette on her porch in SW Virginia

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

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

The Kiefer Oak Tree

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

Dragon's Tooth Trail

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

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

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

Early morning in the Catawba Valley

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

Looking out on top of McAfee Knob in the rain

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

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

Looking out over Tinker Cliffs

The clouds lift along Tinker Cliffs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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 »

New Wheels

Monday, June 14th, 2010

After taking an unplanned off day in Franklin, NC, my trail angel Rich was waiting for me in his big red Dodge Durango at 6:30 early in the morning.  My toes and feet felt better, but were still hurting somewhat.  It was a beautiful morning in the Appalachians, driving up to Winding Stair Gap.  Rich had taken my backpack over to my final destination for the day, the Nantahala Outdoor Center, which was 28 miles away by the trail.  With just a day-pack on, my load would be lessened, but that’s still a full day of hiking up and down the AT mountains.

tulsa charity appalachian trail at2010

As I geared up, Rich said, “Brad, I just feel led to pray for you and your journey.”  Wow, I thought, even more confirmation that this is what I should be doing.  “I’d be honored to be the recipient of your prayers Rich,” I told him.  So as I grabbed the big hand of my new friend Rich, as he prayed for me, my journey, and my toes.

As we said goodbye, I told him I’d send him a postcard from Mt. Katahdin in Maine in a few months, I literally glided over the trail for that first few miles.  I was rejuvenated.  Most people call it trail magic, and sometimes it is  just that.  But this was more than that.  It was the Holy Spirit, leading me to a godly, spirit-led man to help a tired traveler who is on a compassionate journey.

The trail was the same hills, gaps, ridge lines, often in the dense forest.  At around noon, out in the middle of the forest, I came upon a guy in overalls, out digging in the forest right off the trail.  His name was Charlie, and he was out digging for ramps.  “What are ramps?’ I asked.  With a twinkle in his eye, he described them as like wild onions, and they grow out in this area of the forest.  “Once you eat ramps, you just can’t get enough of them,” Charlie said.

Sounds a little fishy to me.  For an ol’ guy to be out digging through the forest on a Saturday, these ramps must either be really good,  have some kind of medicinal effect, or make one a little loopy.   Charlie told me he was from down yonder, and we parted company after our brief visit.  I need to check these ramp deals out, I thought to myself.

I saw mainly section and day hikers again.  I’ve only passed a few thru-hikers, since most are way out on the trail, or back home having quit the trail.  At about 4:00 or so, my feet were getting sore again, along with getting tired.  Most of my climbing was done, so the last several miles consisted of mainly dropping down about 3,500′ to the Nantahala River valley.  At about 7:00, I finally rolled into the office to get my bunk at the hostel, only to discover they were all filled, even after being told there would be plenty of room.   I was tired, drenched in sweat, hungry, and not a happy camper.

I trudged uphill to where the hostel and campground was and found a shower to use.  Putting on half-dirty clothes, I wandered around looking for somewhere to stay.  A nice group of people from an outdoor club in Indiana told me I could just lay down my bag in the dinning hall and sleep there.  They also asked if I’d like a home-cooked meal, since they had plenty.  “Sure”, I told them, and enjoyed brats along with good conversation with these folks.

After sorting through my dirty stuff and getting my pad and bag ready, I went down to the restaurant on the river and devoured a large pizza, three glasses of pop, and a dessert.  My second dinner of the evening did fill me up.  After loosing ten pounds just during my first week of the trail, I needed to eat as much as I could to prevent further weight loss.  This trail burns so much energy, that you have to take in a bunch of food.   That’s not such a bad thing.

I actually thought about doing another long slack pack day in order to get back on schedule, but I’m glad I didn’t.   The climb out of the Nantahala valley was brutal, going mainly up about 3,600′, with many ups and downs along the way.  The trail was rocky in places.  It rained most of that morning, so my boots and feet were soaked again, leading to more foot problems.  At about 5:00, I made it down to a highway crossing at a gap, where I visited with three other thru-hikers I was getting ready to pass.  They gave me some water, as I was getting low.  The rains had stopped, so I worked on my feet by cleaning them and putting on more moleskin and bandages, vaseline, and put on my last pair of dry socks.  As I crossed the road and head up into the forest, more trail magic–about six cans of Mountain Dew lined up 25′ apart up the trail. I quickly gulped one, giving me a little boost going up to my campsite 2.5 miles up the mountain.

The Trail Magic quickly disappeared, as it began to rain again, very hard.  I trudged up in the rain to Brown Fork Gap shelter, and the rains quit.  I had the shelter to myself, and after a good dinner of freeze dried something, I had a good night’s sleep in my hammock strung out in the shelter.

I had a lighter day, just needing about 12 miles going mainly down to the Fontana Dam valley.  Although the map showed mainly downhill, an the Appalachian Trail, especially in this early section, one always is going either up or down it seems.  It was a rough trail in places.  I made a good climb to Mt. Elbert, where an old fire tower stood on the peak.  I was above the clouds settling in the valleys below, so I did not have a good view this morning.

As I made it down to the Fontana Lake area, it was getting hot, and I was dirty, tired, and hungry–the normal state for an afternoon hiker.  I again discovered that there was no room in the inn where I was to stay, so I had to make adjustments on the run.  I made it to the Fontana Dam visitors center, where I engulfed a Klondike bar and a coke, made a call to the Fontana Village Hotel up the road, and snagged a free ride the three miles up to it.  It was more than I wanted to spend on a room, but I was desperate for a good bed, hot shower, good meal, and some rest.

During the afternoon, I did my laundry again, went swimming at the pool, and felt rejuvenated.  I visited with three section hikers briefly at dinner, where I again scarfed down about $25 worth of food.  It was a good evening, and after a great breakfast in the morning, caught a ride back down to the dam where I left off yesterday.

“What’s this, I’m walking on level ground?”, I thought as I walked the 500′ or so across Fontana Dam, which is the largest dam east of the Mississippi.  This was the longest stretch of level ground I had walked on, and it felt good.  My three buddies I met last night were gearing up, so we took some pictures of each other, and I head up the road and then the trail with them.  This was the southern entrance to the Smokey Mountain National Park, where I would be the next four day.

These guys were about my age, with one of them about ten years younger it appeared.  He was the leader, and looked more fit than the other two.  I walked at a slower pace, so I could visit with them a little more as I hiked up the trail.  One of them was already lagging behind, as his backpack was way too heavy–about 50 lbs I believe.   They were going on a nine day trip, I believe on past the Smokies.  He had all nine days of food in his pack.

I felt sorry for the guy, because I knew he was not going to make it.  They were already talking about taking some of his gear and food, and they were not even a mile into it.  Since I had about 17 miles to go that day, mainly uphill, I parted ways and speed on up the trail.

About a mile into the park, as I turned the corner, I saw my first black bear.  It was just about 80′ or so up, and when he saw me, took off up into the woods.  I couldn’t get to my camera fast enough for a picture.  Later in the day, I twice heard a bear up in the woods snorting and moving through the brush, and it was perfect bear habitat, with hollow out trees everywhere.  I had my camera in my hand this time, ready to shoot pics, but they never appeared.

In the early afternoon, I came up to a young couple out on a section hike.  It’s always great to see and visit with people along the trail, especially if you’re hiking solo as I am.  After going hours of nothing but the woods, you really like to visit with people, if only for a minute.  They were heading for the same shelter that evening, Spence Shelter, about 8 miles or so up the trail.  After saying good-by, I bounced up the trail.  About 15 seconds later, Amy hollered out, “Hey Brad, I think you should be going this way!”  I was so distracted after our conversation, I was actually going back south, the direction I came from.  “OK Jeremiah, you’re not so smart after all”, I thought to myself.  I sheepishly told her thanks, we had a laugh, and told her I would have caught myself eventually.  Yea right, probably  when I met up with my three buddies coming up the trail again.

I actually did that again, when crossing under I-40 along a small gravel road.   This time, I crossed over the same river bridge, thinking to myself, “Didn’t I just cross this river?”  It sounds crazy, but it’s easy to do.  In the woods, you can’t see the sun to get your direction.  There are few signs that say north or south, just some white blazes about every 100′.  The AT seldom goes north and south, but instead zigs every which way.  At crossings, after becoming distracted, and after coming up from a stream for water or a stop, it’s very easy to become confused as to which way you were going.  I’ve tried to stop and place my hiking sticks pointing north every time I stop just to make sure.

That night I shared the Shelter with about 15 other people from all over.  No thru-hikers, just section hikers, including Jimmy and Amy, who made it up just at dark several hours after I had.  It was a big shelter, with two layers.  That night, I woke many times to a concerto of snorers, some from the bottom part, and others from the balcony.  That’s one reason I don’t really like to stay at shelters.  They were all nice people to visit with and had a good evening.

The Great Smokies

The next morning was nice, and had great views as I topped Thunderhead and Rocky Top Mountains.  After that, the rains came again, and got soaked.  After a day of fairly nice hiking, with good trail conditions and smoother gradients, the hiking became more rocky and treacherous.  The rains make it much tougher.  It rained so hard that the trail often became a creek you were walking in.  I made it up to about 11 miles from Newfoudland Gap, sharing a shelter with two young college students, Brad and Lebron.  At dark, some older guy came trudging in huffing and puffing, with a backpack that looked as big as a bus, and stayed at the shelter with us, tossing and turning all night.  My destination for the next day was Gatlinburg, where I would take a shorter day, hitch a ride into town for a shower, good food, rest, and re-supply.

A nice couple from Louisiana gave me a ride down to Gatlinburg the next day at around noon.  I had gotten an early start and made good time, even though the trail was still wet and muddy from rains the previous night.  They dropped me off and I found the Microtel down the street.    After showering, washing my clothes in the bathtub, and eating a good lunch, I checked about my shuttle back to the trail-head and the logistics of getting my pack to my next stop–Davenport Gap, which was 31.6 miles up the trail.

I bought a new pair of socks, some other supplies, and checked into some new boots, thinking that may be the difference.  I had heard on the trail that your feet swell up while hiking large distances, and sure enough that seemed to be a problem.  While I normally wear 11.5 boots, I tried on some Keen size 12, and they felt great.  New wheels!  I could not feel the heel blister or toe pain that had burdened me from the start.  So I purchased new boots, and shipped my old ones, along with the old Merrills from home  Becky had sent me, back home.

I couldn’t find a good internet connection in Gatlinburg, but did manage to get some rest and get ready for my next big day.  A 31.6 mile slack pack, taking me out of the Smokey Mountain National Park, would be a challenge. My shuttle guy, Bob from Smokey Mountain Outfitters, Picked me up and had me back on the trail-head at Newfoundland Gap by 7:00 or so.  The weather was great, and for the first time since I started, my new wheels were working great with no toe or heel pain.  There were some climbs, followed by descents, and more climbs.  The views were awesome, as the trail mainly followed the ridge line.  I was making great time.  I also had  a new I-pod my son had loaded and sent to me.  Listening to music, books, and messages really helped the hike go better, and helped me deal with the loneliness one feels at times along the trail.

By early afternoon, my rejuvenation about my boots began to subside.  Now, I was getting blisters in places I’ve never had blisters before, on the balls of my feet, on toes, and especially at the bottom base of my big toe.  It began to hurt with every step, and it was a very long hard day of hiking.  My shuttle was to pick me up at the bottom of Davenport Gap between 7:30 & 8:00.  I rolled into Davenport at 7:25, and she had just gotten there waiting on me to take me a few miles up to Standing Bear Farm Hostel for the evening.

At Standing Bear, they sell food, supplies, you get a bunk and a hot shower, all for a reasonable price.  I was starved, so heated up a can of chili to eat while my pizza was cooking.  Along with three cans of pop and a Gatorade, I finally felt full.  Curtis, the owner of Standing Bear took me back to where I left off the previous day, with my full backpack again, and I journeyed up to my next destination, Max Patch Bald.  I didn’t get on the trail till about 9:30, so had to hike hard to make it the 16.9 miles or so up to Max Patch.

Should I hitch hike home? No way!

The trail went down for about a mile before crossing under I40 (where I got goofed up and went the wrong way briefly).  As I climbed up from the valley, the roar of cars and trucks slowly disappeared over the next hour, giving way to the stillness of the forest.  This day consisted of more up than down, but the trail seemed to be getting in a little better shape.  No rain on this day.

Along the trail I’ve seen several wild turkeys.  They would just run away or eventually fly off. I came upon one today that was just 30′ or so up the trail, and running around all scared or something. I got my camera out to get a good picture of it, when all of a sudden she took off flying right towards my head, with her ugly claws out dive bombing with her beak. I tried to whack it with my hiking poles, dropped my camera, and fell backwards on my rear. Dropped by a wild turkey on the AT. That’s okay, I’ll get my revenge this thanksgiving!

I made it up to Max Patch at about 6:30, and the view was awesome.  Max Patch is a large area of grassland and wildflowers with unobstructed views for miles.  Last week, a young lady had been struck by lightning up at Max Patch.  One does not want to cross it during a storm.  I spoke with two good guys from Tennessee that had hiked up from their car.  After our visit, I headed down to my campsite just into the trees along the edge of the clearing.

View from Max Patch Bald

I didn’t sleep too well that night in my hammock for some reason.  It was foggy the next morning, and I heard thunder in the distance,  So I quickly ate a cold breakfast, packed up, and headed down the trail.  My iPhone and iPod had lost all power after one day, so I didn’t know what time it was, and had nothing but the forest to listen to.  It  was a tough day, and my feet were getting worse in these new places.  About two miles from the end, I began to hear and now see Hot Springs, NC.  It seemed it took forever to finally reach the town in the valley below.  With the next day being my first planned zero day, where I relax and don’t hike any, I was really looking forward to getting to Hot Springs.

It was hot as I reached the town.  Hot Springs is the first town where the AT actually goes through the middle of.  It’s a small North Carolina town, with a few hostels, restaurants, and a great little outfitter store named Bluff Mountain Outfitters.  I had climbed Bluff Mountain that day, and it was a tough one.  I was soaked in sweat, tired, hungry….you know the drill.  I went into Smokey Mountain Diner and scarfed down a double cheeseburger, fries, and two cokes.  They had to tell me where Elmer’s Sunneybrook Inn was, my home for the next two nights.  There wasn’t a sign or anything in front, but it was right across the street.

I secured my room, took a hot shower, soaked my tired feet in the tub, and walked gingerly in my sandals the two blocks up the street to eat dinner again at about 7:15.  Another $30 worth of food, but I did get full.  Took another shower just to get all the grunge off, and had a good nights sleep in a real bed.

The next morning, Elmer fixed a great breakfast, as he’d done for thousands of hikers over the years.   There were two section hikers, minesweeper and roundabout, that I enjoyed visiting with.  They were heading to Erwin, TN also, my next destination, so I’ll pass them in a few days on my way on up the trail.  Nobody has passed me in the 17 days or so I’ve been on the AT.  I’ve passed probably about 100 section, day, and a few thru-hikers, along with the thousand or so thru-hikes who have already quit and are back home on the couch.  I’d like to meet up with someone good who’s walking at my pace on up the trail, but most seem to be doing maybe 10 miles or so per day, and or taking off alot of day.  Wish I could, but with starting so late, in order to make it to Katahdin by Oct. 1st–I gotta go hard.

I walked up to do laundry, and thought I’d check again at the outfitters for new boots.  I was desperate to get my wheels back, as that’s the only thing that’s slowing me down.  I had read some reviews last night in Backpacker Magazine on boots, and one that was rated high, was on their shelf.  It’s more of a high cut running or trail shoe, with good padding and flexibility.  I tried on a size 13 this time, and added a special insole.  They felt great, as by Keen boots did in the store a few days ago.  My mistake though was keeping the standard insole in the Keens, and shipping my special insole back to Tulsa.  That would have made a difference.  I bought the new boots, and shipped back my Gattlinburg boots with three days of hard hiking, covering 64 miles in those three day.  Maybe that’s why my feet hurt so much?  I’ll blame it on the boots though.

Hot Springs, North Carolina

So I’m on my 3rd set of wheels!  I gota get these wheels fixed, to where I can hike and not feel the pain of every step.  Without a good, strong base–you’re sunk, either in hiking, and in life for that matter.  With rest today, a good soaking in the natural hot springs later, more great food, and another good nights sleep, I’ll be ready to charge up the mountains again.  I have four days to get to Erwin, TN, where my good buddy of over 30 years, Steve Hildebrand, will be joining up and hiking a week with me.  I’ve warned him that he’d better be in shape, as the AT is very tough.  He’s no spring chicken either like me, so the trail will work him over for a few days.  We’re trying to go a little easier at first, with some lighter days and some slack packing also.  And I hope he has his boot issue resolved.  It’s taken me almost three weeks and three sets of boots, and I’m still not sure if I’ve got the right wheels yet!

Even with the challenges of the AT, and hurting feet, I wouldn’t have it any other way.  Nothing great was ever achieved without some sacrifice, and without some pain along the way.  I know that God will use this little journey of mine–this compassionate jouney–to help others.  The kids and families which are served by our five charities I know will be helped and shown compassion.  I’ve already thought many times (you do have alot of thinking time on the AT), that this would be really difficult if I was just doing this for me, and wasn’t doing this for others also.  People along the trail have asked why I’m pushing so hard to make it to Maine, and why I don’t just do a flip flop hike and go to Katahdin and hike south to where you ended up.  That thought has crept into my mind also, during some of those difficult stretches.

But my hope is that my new wheels will do the job, and allow my feet to heal up and get better.  I’m pressing on the Erwin, looking forward to having a good friend as my trailmate.

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Posted in AT2010, Appalachian Trail, Charity, Tulsa Charity | 4 Comments »

Its Game Time!

Tuesday, May 25th, 2010

After nine months, and over 1,000 hours of reading, learning, planning, talking with people, and physical preparation, it’s here!   I’m as ready as I can be, and totally focused on the Appalachian Trail.

Last summer, when I was working through the decision to do this, one of the many questions I asked myself was, What would my customers think of this?   Would they think I was leaving my responsibilities to them so I can hike the trail?  Would they feel short-changed if I wasn’t around to deal with any lawn issues?  

I’ve worked through these questions.  I can assure you that if you are a LawnAmerica customer, you and your lawn are in good hands with our staff at LawnAmerica.  As the owner, my job is very busy from mid-fall though the spring, with planning, hiring, budgeting, training, learning, and all the other owner and CEO responsibilities.  Once summer hits, it’s a matter of execution, with everyone doing their job well. 

I only hire good, smart, honest, hard-working people.  We train and educate them well.  I pay and reward them very well, in part by how they take care of and service our customers.  If I’ve done my job well, during the summer, our business should run just fine without my direct presence.  LawnAmerica is successful because we believe and operate based upon certain proven values, which exist with or without my direct presence.  So, our customers will be just fine.

In fact, we’ve heard nothing but good words and encouragement from our customers about this journey I’m taking, with many customers donating money to our cause. Almost everyone I’ve spoken to about this has been encouraging to me with their thoughts and remarks.  For that I am very thankful. 

I’m taking a risk in doing this, as the vast majority of people who set out on an attempt to hike the entire 2,175 miles of the Appalachian Trail do not make it during one season.   There are a lot of things that could happen, some beyond my control, that would cause me to get off the AT for a few weeks, months, or even totally for this year.  To name a few:

  • I could drink bad water and get sick.
  • I could fall (5 million steps to complete the AT) and break a leg, injure myself, my body could just not stand up to the constant pounding.
  • I could get struck by lightning, get bogged down with torrential rains, get heat stroke, hypothermia, and other weather related hazards.
  • I could get a rattlesnake bite, attacked by a bear or a moose, or a tick bite leading to Lyme Disease.
  • Unexpected work responsibilities at work could crop up, causing me to come home.
  • Unexpected home and family responsibilities could crop up, causing me to come home.
  • I could just get homesick, or bored, or just physically worn out.

I’ve prepared and worked hard with the intent of finishing this thru-hike by October 1st—about 4 months.  Most people take 5-6 months to complete the AT, but I don’t have that much time.  And most people are younger than my 56 years of age.  I’ll have to be moving quick—about 18.5 miles per day in order to be at Mt. Katahdin in Maine by October 1st.  I’ve got a detailed plan and schedule, and things are going to have to go pretty much by schedule for this to work.

My mindset is that I’m going to make it to the end.  Things happen though, so I will be ready to make adjustments if needed.  That’s a lot of what life is about—making adjustments to unexpected stuff that crops up.  My motivation for doing this is great, as I’ve told too many people about it to fail!  But the bottom line for me, is what we are doing for our five charities, which are:

  • The Little Lighthouse
  • The Salvation Army
  • Tulsa Rogers Young Life
  • Habitat for Humanity
  • Folds of Honor

All of these non-profit organizations do a great job of serving the needs of Tulsa area kids and families who need some help the most—of showing compassion.  This walk is not about me, it’s about showing some compassion to folks in our community who need it.  The needs are greater than ever in this day we live in.  It’s not a time to hunker down and be defensive; it’s a time to act, to do something, to show a little compassion.  That’s what this journey is about.

For me, this is a God-inspired passion to do this.  I’ll be realizing a dream and having a real adventure in the process also.  I know that walking 2,175 miles, with a 35 lb backpack on, up and down mountains, through all types of weather, eating the same boring food every day (mmmmmm instant oatmeal and granola for breakfast again!), going days with a shower, and sleeping on the hard ground next to strangers, etc. doesn’t sound real invigorating to most, but I’ll be having a ball!

Join me, by following my journey on my blog at www.AT2010Tulsa.com.  I’ll be writing about the characters, situations, and challenges I meet with along the Appalchian Trail, along with pictures and video of some amazing landscapes of America.  And if you feel so led to do so, you can donate to one or several of our charities we are supporting on-line. 

I consider myself very fortunate and blessed to be able to do this.  I’m thankful for all the many people in my life, my family and friends, our vendors, our sponsors, our team members, and for our customers who all make it possible for LawnAmerica to exist and thrive.  Giving back to the community is part of what we do, and we’re thankful for the opportunity to do so.  I’ll do everything possible on my part to make this AT Compassionate Journey a success, and a blessing for many folks. 

Giving my 1st re-supply package of yummy food to the UPS guy. It has to be in Hiawasse before I get there!

I’ll be flying to Atlanta, driving up to the base of Springer Mountain about 60 miles north of Atlanta, and setting foot on the AT on May 28th.  I’m excited, anxious, and sad all at the same time.  I’ve sent my first re-supply package to Hiawasse, Georgia allready, to make sure it’s there on May 30th in plenty of time to get there before I do.  While confident, I’m still a realist and know that I could fail to finish.  I know that unforeseen things can happen, and often do.  And I’m sad to be leaving my family, friends, co-workers, even the dog.   I’ve never been away four months at one time, so I know it will be hard.  It will all be worth it though if I’m standing on top of Mt. Katahdin on October 1st, with our $100,000 goal surpassed, along with lives influenced by our AT2010 Compassionate Journey.

The next post will be from somewhere in the mountains of northern Georgia.  I’ll be tired and beat up by the trail, so don’t expect much from me then!  Give me a few weeks to get my “trail legs” going, and I’ll be a much happier camper at that point.   I still don’t have my trail name, so I trust that something will happen or someone will annoint me with the prefect trail name within the first few weeks.  I just hope it’s not “Eaten by Bear”. 

Happy Trails!

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Posted in AT2010, Appalachian Trail, Charity, Pre-hike Planning, Tulsa Charity | 8 Comments »

Three More Weeks

Friday, May 7th, 2010

Three weeks from today, I’ll be flying to Atlanta and taking an hour and a half drive to the base of Springer Mountain with a full backpack ready to strap on the next day after that.  It’s been about nine months since the idea of thru-hiking the entire Appalachian Trail popped into my head, and slowly moved down into my heart.  It’s gone from; “maybe I could do this”, to “I can do this”, to “I gotta do this” over a period of several months.  It’s become more than just an adventure for me, it’s a mission.  In my case, I believe it’s a “God-ordained Mission”, using my experience, talents, abilities, contacts, education, and passion to complete this venture in four months.

been a good and busy spring at my business, LawnAmerica.  My focus has been mainly towards having a great spring, and giving us a good base so that I can be gone four months.  And, there have been many other people and activities which have commanded my attention and focus.  However, now that we are only three weeks away, I’m being drawn to the trail.  My focus is shifting towards the Appalachian Trail and the challenges I’ll face there. I’m getting excited, and a little anxious, with all the preparation that still needs to be done.  I’m beginning to feel a little anxious about being away from the people I love and care about during the four month stretch.

Physically, I feel about as ready as a 56-year old guy can be.  The first several weeks of my 2,175 mile journey will still be brutal, until I become more in “trail shape”.    At 186 lbs, I’m the same weight as I was in college.  The hair may be a lot thinner and grayer, and I’m not a fast or quick runner, but I do have endurance and passion.   I’m not going to be running sprints or anything up the mountains.   Most of the success in a thru-hike is more mental than physical.  Four months of day after day, hiking 18 miles, up and down, getting hungry, through the rain, going days without a shower, etc.  etc.    Sound like fun?

Well, call me weird, but it will be fun for me!  I’ll be doing something that few people my age have an opportunity, or the physical and mental toughness  to do.  I’ll experience parts of America that few have the opportunity to see firsthand.  I’ll meet new and unique people along the trail.  And after I come down from Mt. Katahdin in Maine on October 1st, I’ll have another great experience that I’ll remember for the rest of my life here on earth, probably making into my top 5!

But a huge part of this AT2010 Compassionate Journey is not about me—it’s about showing compassion to others in the Tulsa area who need a little help.  We are currently about halfway towards our goal of raising $100,000 for our five local charities.  We need your support.  My business, LawnAmerica , is matching dollar for dollar everything that is donated to the five charities.  We’ve committed $50,000 to these folks, so I’m asking others to step up to the plate and do what you can do to help.  Our attitude through this economic downturn has been to give even more and be even more generous with our resources, as the needs are greater.  And, by the way, our business has been fine, with another year of 14% growth it looks like.  Who was it that said, “Give, and it will be given unto you”?

Compassion.  That’s the bottom line.  That’s one thing which will help drive me through the mountains and forests for 2,175 miles.  There are kids and families who need some compassion, right here in the Tulsa area.   The five non-profit organizations we are raising $20,000 each for are as follows:

  • The Little Lighthouse
  • The Salvation Army
  • Tulsa Rogers Young Life
  • Tulsa Habitat for Humanity
  • Folds of Honor

Go to www.AT2010Tulsa.com to donate securely, and we’ll match your donation.  Help us to help others through my journey.  I can asure you I’ll do everything possible to make it to the end.  Three more weeks, and I’ll be there.  Can’t wait!

Posted in AT2010, Charity, Pre-hike Planning | 12 Comments »

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