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.