www.LawnAmerica.com

ContactContact

Posts Tagged ‘Tulsa charities’

Now What?

Tuesday, January 4th, 2011

Christmas 2010 has come and past.  The Christmas tree that was $70 is now in the back of my truck, ready to be chipped up into mulch, or dropped to the bottom of a lake as a home for fish.   We’ve spent time with our families, dined on  a lot of good food, traveled here and there, sang the Christmas carols, and we’re a little worn out.  I’ve been busy at work, trying to catch up from my work that did not get done last fall, since I was still out hiking, and wrapping up my journey.  I’ve been home now for almost a month–after longing to be done with the trail and get home for good for so long this past summer and fall.

It’s now 2011, a brand new year, with AT2010  quickly changing into being  just another journey lodged into my  memory, with all of the pressing needs and activities of a new year thrust upon me.  I’m back into the  world I call home–into the reality of work, family, life in the city, and enjoying all the comforts of our modern world which so many of us are blessed with.  If I’m hungry, I open the refrigerator door, or we hop in the the car and go to eat out.  If I’m dirty, I take a hot shower.   If I’m bored, I turn on the television and watch a game or just flip channels.  When I’m tired, I just go to bed–a soft, warm bed, with four walls and a roof, without rats running around at night.  It’s another world totally that I’m in now, compared to the almost five months I spent on the Appalachian Trail, and it’s good to be home.

But…..I miss the trail!  Only people who have hiked the AT will fully understand that.  After longing to finish the trail, and so happy and proud to have done so, I long to again be in the quietness and majesty of the woods and the mountains.  I have put so much of my heart and soul into completing the AT, after doing so, it’s almost like it’s become

I find myself longing to be on the trail sometimes during the day.

a part of what I do, and what I would call home.  After hiking in the woods for much of the past summer and fall, it’s become a part of what I do.  I’m not quite comfortable yet with being back in the “real world” of the city, with it’s fast-paced activities, highways packed with traffic, technology, and constant needs and responsibilities to meet.  It was so nice, to have the biggest decision of the day to be how far I would hike, and where I would spend the night.  However, being the realist and responsible person that I am, I know that I can’t, nor would I, just pack up again and head back to the AT, or to another of the long-distance trails in our country.

So Becky and I went for a short walk in the woods this afternoon at the Turkey Mountain Urban Wilderness  in Tulsa.   An urban wilderness–now that’s a misnomer.  I spent some time hiking there this past spring with my backpack on, in preparation for the real deal.  For being in the city limits of Tulsa, it’s really pretty nice, with dense oak woods, sandstone rock outcroppings, a few hills, a good view of the Arkansas River, and lots of trails shooting everywhere.  It’s not the AT, but it’ll do for now.  It’s amazing how much my body and legs have tightened up, after only four weeks off the trail.  I’ve been walking and exercising since I’ve been home, but not to the extent that I was while hiking the trail.  I don’t think there is any way I could strap on my pack and go my usual 18-20 miles per day now.   But it was good to just get out and walk in the woods, if only for an hour or so.

Most of the books I’ve read on the AT, and the many people whom I’ve met along the trail, have told me that thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail will change a person.  Well I would think so.  Anything that we put our heart and soul into for five months will have an effect on us.  So yes–hiking the AT has changed me, and I’ve learned some things about life, about myself, and about our world.  So after being home back into the “real world” for a few weeks, reflecting some on my journey, and digesting what I’ve seen, experienced, and felt along the trail,  I’d like to share some of those thoughts.  It’s not all inclusive, just five of the most important things I’ve learned from hiking the Appalachian Trail.

1.  Most of us have so much to be thankful for.

The AT boils life down to its’ basic necessities.  It’s a matter of food, water, shelter, health, and clothing.  It’s life as it was for most people in our country,  just a few generations ago.  It’s also life as it is for many people even now–in our world, our country, and even in the very cities and communities where most of us live now.  Now I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth or anything, growing up in a small home with a single car garage, with both parents working hard in blue-collar jobs in raising their four kids in a small 3-bedroom home.  But we never lacked for food, clothing, shelter, clean water, and plenty of “stuff” for us at the time.

Now, just one generation later, it’s amazing how much we think that we really need to be content in life.  Life is really so easy for many of us, at least in regards to the basic necessities in life.  Most people today never really have to worry about food, water, clothing, and shelter.  It’s more a matter of worrying about the amount and type of food, the style of clothes, and the size of our home.  Now there’s nothing wrong in and of itself in having a lot of  “stuff”, as it can really be a blessing.  I’m sure glad that when I come home from work, didn’t have to go down to the creek to get clean water, boil it before drinking, and sleep in a cold shelter each night.  But many people do–and they are not backpackers.  They are people in our world who for whatever reason, just have not been blessed with everything that most of us in America have.

I am even more grateful and thankful for all that I have–and not just the material things.  I’m more thankful for the relationships, with my family, friends, co-workers, and others in my world.  I’ll talk more about that later.  But in regards to the necessities and the material things in life, we have so much to be thankful for.  Many of us have more than we need.  I lived for almost five months on the trail, with all that I needed on my back, and I did just fine.  I was happy, healthy, and I survived just fine.  I came off the trail not only more grateful for all that I have, but with a better understanding of what we really need, and what is excess.

I’ve also determined to be even more generous and giving of what we have.  I want to be more compassionate, to those who need compassion, and don’t have the resources and things that we have.  I feel that my wife and I have always been faithful in giving of our time, money and resources to people and organizations we are involved in.  It really is jore fun to give than to receive.  I want to do even more–both personally, and through my business.  In fact, this year, we are giving back 3% of our gross sales to local charities, schools, churches, municipalities, and other community needs, in the form of cash donations, sponsorships, and donated services.  For our little company, that’s a fair chunk of change in 2011–$135,000.   And next year, I’d like to do even more.

2.  We all need other people–Relationships matter.

One reason that I thought I’d be successful at thru-hiking the AT is that I’m the type of person who does not need a lot of social interaction.   I’m a fairly quiet guy, and I enjoy my solitude.  I don’t mind working by myself, and being alone.  In fact, many times I prefer it.  I always enjoyed fishing for example more when I was on my own.  Now it may have been because that way I wouldn’t have to share all the good fishing holes, and I could catch more fish.  I’m pretty competitive also, and don’t like to be out-fished by anyone.  I knew that most of the time, I’d be on my own, hiking by myself in the woods.  And I thought that would be just fine.

Well, I was surprised that by about the third week of my journey, I was getting a little lonely.  Now I missed my wife a lot, even though I called her several times a day in most cases.  I hadn’t planned on seeing her for the first two months, but we both changed that pretty quick, flying her up to southern Virginia after being apart for one month.  The first few weeks on the trail were fairly busy with people.  Most days I’d see about 10-15 other hikers, or even more on weekends and in certain sections.  I’d usually have company at the shelters or the hostels.  But since I had started so late in the hiker season, and because I was hiking faster than most others and passing them, I did not have the opportunity to hike a lot with other thru-hikers going north.

Steve and I on a North Carolina bald.

My good friend Steve Hildebrand came up and hiked with me for a week during late June, from Erwin, Tennessee to Damascus, Virginia.  He did great, was great company, and we really enjoyed our hiking together, although it was getting very hot and tiring.  After Steve left though, it got even hotter and hotter, and hikers began dropping off the trail like flies.  There were several days I would see nobody, while hiking in the dense woods all day.  Much of the time, I’d be alone in the shelters at night.  Just me and the mice, or the rats, or the bears sneaking around.   I was getting hot, tired, and very lonely.

I would listen to music some during  most days with my iPod, but it was a lot of quiet time in the stillness of the woods.  When I would run into other hikers, or go into town every few days or so, I would really enjoy my brief conversations with  others, and soak up as much people interaction as I could in a few brief moments.  I was on a schedule, and moving fast, so unfortunately didn’t have a lot of excess time to chat though.  Most days, it was just me and Jesus though, and that was really OK.

Becky in front of Johnny Seesaws in Vermont.

My wife also came up with me in the northern section in Vermont, and spent about 10 days with me.  That was nice, to be able to share some of my trail experience with her.  It was also a lot easier hiking, since I was able to slackpack the whole time carrying only  a daypack.  And, we enjoyed a nice dinner and breakfast every day, with all the comforts of home every night.  And I didn’t get lonely at all.

So my AT experience showed me how dependent we really are on relationships with other people whom we care about.  We can sometimes think we’re pretty self-reliant and independent.  But I believe God created us for relationships, and when those relationships are not going on, we can get a little lonely, and it can affect our whole psyche.   We all need other people, to be fully human and happy.

I know better now what it means to be lonely.  In our world, in our communities, and right in our own neighborhood, there are lonely people.  For whatever reason, they are lacking for quality human relationships with family or friends.  They need a little compassion also.  They need a friend.  I’ve determined to be more aware and sensitive to people I’m in contact with who may be a little lonely, and to help in some small way to befriend them.

3. You’ve got to have a plan, but be willing to modify that plan when things happen, as they will.

Before my journey even started last spring, I had a detailed game plan on an Excel spreadsheet.  I’m the master of Excel spreadsheets and charts at work.  I had every day planned, from start to finish, for 128 days.   I showed how many miles I’d walk each day, where I would camp or stay, when I would receive supply shipments, how much food I’d have in each shipment, when I would take a zero day, along with phone numbers and addresses of stops.  I didn’t go to the extent of detailing what I’d wear, but I might as well have.  I had a plan.  And that plan had me leaving Springer Mountain in Georgia on May 28th, and reaching Mt. Katahdin in Maine on October 1st.

Planning is good.   At my business, we plan really well, with a detailed business plan drawn up every year, with goals to hit, budgets to make, and tasks to accomplish.  That’s one of the reasons we are successful–we plan, when most of our competitors really don’t, but rather just shoot from the hip.  I was amazed at the first of my hike as to how many of the thru-hikers really had no plan.  They didn’t really have a set date to finish.  They didn’t plan on where they needed to be, beyond one day or so in advance.  They just pretty much went with the flow, and ended up most days wherever they got tired, or where their friends were, or where the beer was coldest in the towns. (I went where the Cokes were coldest!)

I was just the opposite.  I had a plan, and I was sticking to it, especially the first month.  Only four days into my journey however, I had to take an un-planned zero day in Franklin, NC, due to those infected toes and bad blisters on my feet.  It was doctors’ orders to take two days off, but I did just one.  But even with that, I charged ahead to make up ground, and ended up only one day behind schedule as I entered my second month on the trail.

But I was beat, worn out, had lost 28 pounds, and was not having a whole lot of fun at that point.  So I modified my plan.  I decided to flip-flop my hike, by going home to Tulsa midway through my hike from Harpers Ferry, and fly up to Maine to head south back to Harpers the rest of the way.  Before leaving on my journey, I had a list of  things titled, “Stuff Happens” which I spoke about.  It was a list of many things, often unexpected and unplanned, that could happen while on the trail, that could cause me to quit my hike, or slow me down.   Well, about half of those happened when all was said and done.  The extreme heat and lack of water on the trail then caused me to slow down my pace in late June and July.   My Mom passed away when I was halfway through Virginia, and I went home for a week.  I became homesick and lonely.  I had health issues, with infected toes, blisters for a month, a bad spider bite, heat exhaustion, and extreme weight loss.  Becky’s Mom passed away later on in the trip. With my schedule then way out of whack, and other things already planned, holidays, and family responsibilities, I had to go off trail even more, backing up my anticipated ending date even further into December.

Stuff happens–along the trail, and in life.  I had my beginning plan, and that was good.  It helped me to get off to a good start, it challenged me, and kept me focused.  But as I got into my journey, I began to modify and adjust that plan, according to current conditions, such as weather, events, trail conditions, etc.  I still had long-term goals and a schedule to guide me, but I learned to constantly change that almost daily and make adjustments.  It’s somewhat like a game plan for a football game.  A coach may script the first few plays, but after that, they make adjustments to their plan, still sticking to their plan of what they’ll do and how they’ll do it, with the final goal to win the game.  My final goal was to finish my journey (and enjoy it some along the way)–make it to the end completing all 2,178 miles of the AT in 2010.  I had to adjust, improvise, and change–but I made it to the end.

Hiking the trail was just like life.  We all have dreams and plans for ourselves, our families, our business, and our kids for example.  We’d all like to have the perfect life after getting our college degrees, marrying that perfect spouse, and raising perfect kids.  Our kids would then make all A’s, become superstars on the athletic field, be perfectly healthy, involved in wholesome activities, and end up marrying their perfect spouse (who also came from a perfect family).  Then the cycle would continue as we head off into retirement, with a loaded-up 401K, in a big house, so that those perfect little grandkids could come and visit whenever we wanted.

Now there is nothing at all wrong with all of these scenarios.  And some may be blessed to be in this exact situation, with everything going according to plans, and no hiccups along the way.  Life is great!  But stuff happens.  If it hasn’t yet for you, just be patient– it will.  And when it does, when life throws you a curve-ball and the unexpected happens, then it’s how one adjusts their plan to current conditions and responds in the right manner that will determine if they can still be able to say, “Life is good”.   You’ll still be able to complete your journey.  You’ll just be taking a different path to success than you thought you’d be taking.  And that’s OK.  That’s life.  It’s not what happens to us that defines us, it’s how we choose to respond to what happens to us that makes us who we are.

4. Don’t be afraid to do hard things.

Backpacking the Appalachian Trail was hard--this was no walk in the park!

Hiking the entire Appalachian Trail was hard.  I knew it would be, as I was no stranger to backpacking the mountains.  I’d grown up hiking the Colorado Rockies every year just about since childhood, until my early adult years.  Id’ read 15 books on the AT, and spoke with a few people who had done it.  I knew what I was getting into, and that the odds of me completing this journey would really be only about 10%, with my age and my ambitious schedule factored into the stats of a 15% completion rate.  But it’s like anything else.  You really don’t understand until your boots have hit the ground and you’ve hiked the trail.  Until one experiences something for themselves, they can never really fully understand what it’s like.  After hiking every foot of the trail, I fully understand now why most people fail. It’s hard.

The tendency now it seems for many people though is to avoid hard things.  We want to take the easy way out, the comfortable way, and avoid risk.  We tend to know that we can win, before we play the game.  I have found that generally, the harder something is to do, the more it means to you and to others when you accomplish it.  As one of the greatest Presidents of our county, Teddy Roosevelt once said, “Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure… than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.

Some of the most important, meaningful, and rewarding things I’ve done in my lifetime have been hard.  It’s hard being a good parent, and a good husband, while juggling all the other responsibilities of adulthood.  It was hard to start a business from scratch, with very little money, and to build it up to be successful.  It was hard to start it up again, and build up another one.  It was hard to see our cabin in the mountains burn to the ground, and then to rebuild it ourselves in three months several years later.   Hard things require allot of work, and sacrifice.  But when we accomplish our goals, see our hard work pay off,  and we make it to the end, what a glorious reward we have.  Nothing great was ever accomplished without hard work.  I forget who said that, but it’s so true.

If something is important, do it.  If you have a passion for something, pursue that passion.  If there are needs to be met, do what you can to meet those needs.  If there is a game to play, play it.  If there are battles to fight, fight them.  And if the odds of winning or reaching your goals are against you, as they were for me on the AT, so be it.  Take on that challenge.  Prepare yourself to win.  If people don’t think you’ll make it, or even ridicule your efforts or motives, then use  that as fuel for your fire.  Don’t be afraid of failure, or settle for mediocrity.  We only have one chance to walk this trail of life, and we never really know when our journey may end.

5. Finish strong!

There were times on the AT when I really struggled, physically, mentally, and emotionally.  In fact, the mental and emotional challenge was even harder than the physical challenge of the trail.  As I mentioned, being in the woods and enjoying nature is great.  But day after day hiking by yourself, doing the same things every day, without allot of social interaction, can drive even the best of us a little crazy.  It was tough coming off the trail and back into the ”real world”, dealing with the passing of our mothers, going back and forth to the trail again.  I was my strongest after finishing the grueling sections of Maine and New Hampshire, and headed south through New England and the mid-Atlantic in late September through early November.  Yes, the trail was easier, the weather was great, and the scenery was spectacular.  But I had my trail legs, was in great shape physically, and I know I was on the home stretch towards finishing my journey.  I finished strong–really strong–in averaging about 19 miles per day during the last few weeks into Harpers Ferry, and going north back to Harpers in early December, again averaging 19 miles per day.

I wanted to finish strong, and to complete my journey well.  I felt success was in the bag, we had exceeded our fundraising goal of $100K, and I was going to be a successful thru-hiker.  I was close to beating the odds, and making it.  I could sense a win, I had beaten the trail, and I had out-hiked thousands of hikers much younger that I.  This all made me very proud, with much gratitude, and it felt good.

Part of the reason I chose to attempt a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail now, at 56, and still working, was that I didn’t want to take a chance on waiting until I retire.  Who knows–I could become ill, not physically be able to do it, or even die before I reach the normal retirement age of 66 or so in 10 years.  I could die next year, or next week even.  We don’t know when our trail in life will end, so I wanted to do it now, while I know I still could do it.  And I’m so glad and thankful that I was able to pull it off!

Taking a journey like this though has not given me a sense of sitting back and resting on my laurels, and thinking that this will be the last great adventure of my life, while I count the years towards retirement.   Quite the contrary.  If anything, it has fueled my fire even more for doing hard things, working hard, and searching for more opportunities to help others, while challenging myself. I want to give even more, and show compassion to others.  I see so many people in life, especially men, who like me  have been blessed so much.  They have great talents and strength in certain areas.  They may have time to devote to worthy causes, with their kids all grown up and out of the house, and a strong financial base to stand on.  But they are more concerned with hoarding their assets, and their time, and their talents, and making sure they have plenty in their 401-K to live off of in a few years.

Now don’t get me wrong–there is nothing wrong with slowing down some in life as we get older.  Hey, I’m no spring chicken anymore, and I know that my body, and even my mind sometimes, is not what it was 20 years ago.  It’s great to be able to enjoy life, after working so hard for many years.  It’s great to be blessed with material things and strong finances.  But with great blessings–comes great responsibilities I believe–to use those to help others especially.  Many in my stage of life have great experience and wisdom.  We need to share that with others I believe.  People in my stage of life–we’ve hiked a lot of trails in life.  Some have been difficult, some have been fun, some have been rewarding, and some have been–just kinda boring maybe at times.

We don’t know when that trail will come to a dead end–literally.  So for me, I’m going to hike like I mean it.  I can see the finish, and I know it’s out there somewhere, sooner than later in my case.  I’m going to get excited about the prospect of winning the race, and making it to the end, while enjoying the gift of this trail of life.   I’m going to finish strong.

“…and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.” Hebrews 12:1

Where will the trail lead to now?

Tags: , , , ,
Posted in AT2010 | 5 Comments »

It is Finished!

Sunday, December 12th, 2010

The big bell tower clock struck three times as I hiked down the sidewalk at the historic St. Peters Catholic Church in Harpers Ferry, as I officially finished my Appalachian Trail journey at 3:00 on Friday, December 10th, 2010.  That’s where I was exactly one month before, as I finished the northern portion of the trail, hiking south from Maine down to Harpers Ferry, the midpoint of the AT.  This time, I was not in my shorts however, as winter had set in for these final ten days of my journey, and I was bundled up hiking in the snow.   My wife Becky was waiting for me at the church, as she was able to come up with me for the final three days of my hike.  

Finished! On the steps at St. Peters Catholic Church in Harpers Ferry.

It’s finished!  I had a hard time comprehending that fact, that I was actually done.  There were times that it seemed I would never finish my journey, especially with all the times I had to go off-trail for family emergencies and responsibilities.  I was exhausted, excited, relieved, proud, happy, and sad all at the same time.  From the time I began this journey on May 28th until now, I actually was on the AT hiking for 138 days, taking 8 zero days of rest, and off-trail for about 7 weeks during four separate occasions.  I hiked from 6 to 31 miles per day when hiking, with an average of 15.8 miles per day.   Although I did not do my original plan of 17.5 miles per day, I feel good about my pace.  That’s faster than most thru-hikers, and I still had time to enjoy the trail and not kill myself.  And…I finished!  That in itself is an accomplishment, since most don’t.  I felt proud, in a good sort of way, that I was able to finish, and out-hike guys half my age in many cases.  

 As was the case on the very first day that I set foot on the AT back in May in Georgia, the emotion that was overwhelming on this final day was gratitude.  I was so thankful that I was able to do this–to my wife for letting me go and supporting me, for my employees at LawnAmerica who’ve done such a great job in my absence (maybe I should go away more often), to all my friends, family, customers, and people who have supported me, prayed for me, or donated to our charities.  I’m thankful for all those trail angels, who  came at just the right time with rides, cold drinks, food, and even overnight stays.  From big Rich down in North Carolina, Dannette in Virginia, Pete in New York, and Jim Mello in Massachusetts, along with many others who helped provide their own dose of trail magic along the

Gratitude

way–I’m thankful, and could not have made it without their help.  I’m thankful to the thousands of trail volunteers from the Appalachian Trail Conservancy, and many of the other regional clubs, who do such a great  job of maintaining the AT, all on a volunteer basis.  But most of all, I’m thankful to my God, who has blessed me with strong legs to hike, a strong back to carry a pack, the finances to pull this off, and the perseverance and good health to finish this journey.  

It was a struggle just getting to Waynesboro, Virginia last week.  I spent 16 hours on the plane and in airports due to bad weather in Atlanta, so I did not check into the hotel in Charlotesville until midnight.  Early the next morning, Lyle, my trusty shuttle driver from earlier this summer, was there in his old white van and his new dog, Sam, to pick me up and take me to Skyline Drive where I had left the AT in late July.  I had to go back south for about 15 miles to complete a section from there down to the Tye River Valley that I had skipped over before I went home in late July.  Back then, it was very hot, with temperatures in the mid-90’s, and the springs were drying up.  Now, the temperatures were in the 30’s with plenty of water. 

With the leaves gone, I could see the blue sky now.

  The forest now had a totally different look, with the leaves being off the trees and blanketing the forest floor.  I could now see the blue sky, and the beautiful valleys below the ridges.  The late fall forest was quiet, with few animals out and about, and no hikers at all.  It felt good to be back on the trail that day, after being off for three weeks.  I had lost some of my trail legs, and was a little stiff, but without my full backpack this first day back I did fine.  As I climbed up the ridge, I saw the huge mountain named The Priest lurking across the valley.  Back in late July, it was extremely hot in Virginia, with water scarce because of the drought drying up springs and small creeks.  Not so now, with plenty of water from recent rains and downright cold temperatures.   Several 

Water was plentiful in mountain streams from recent rains.

ago, I had descended down over 3,000′ on the other side to reach the Tye River, where I plopped down into the cold river for about an hour just to cool off from the extreme heat, along with a nice section hiker I’d met from Baltimore.  He in fact had paid the entire shuttle fee to take us to Waynesboro–another of the many cases of trail magic along the AT, with total strangers helping out a fellow hiker.   When I reached the valley where Lyle would pick me up again, the river was cold and flowing hard from the hard rains the day before.  No way I was jumping in today! 

The Priest, lurking on the opposite side of the Tye River valley.

The next day I strapped on my full backpack and headed back north starting at Rockfish Gap, the southern entrance to the Shenandoah National Park.  I had nine days to complete the remaining 160 miles of the AT through the park, and on up through northern Virginia to Harpers Ferry.  The trail through the park was not real easy, but it wasn’t that tough either.  There were some ups and downs, but the slope was moderate, and the trail was well-graded and not too rocky in most places.  I was a little stiff though on this second day back on the trail, and it was tougher hiking in the colder weather wearing long pants and more clothes.  I had hiked in shorts the total time until now, but now was wearing long johns and long pants along with about five layers of clothes to keep warm.  I saw no hikers this day, as the park facilities were all closed for the season.  Hiking through the Shenandoah National Park at this time of the season

This looked like one of those scary talking trees from Wizard of Oz.

 would be good in a way, as Skyline Drive would be really quiet with few cars on it.  The AT pretty much parallels Skyline Drive, crossing it many times over the 100 miles or so in this section.  So with few cars and people, the park was really peaceful and quiet.  However, the lodging was closed, and the famous blackberry shakes would be only a dream, since the waysides and eating places were also closed.  Therefore, I would be camping out along the AT, at least for this first section of the hike, and needing to re-supply in the nearby towns.  

I hiked 20 miles to the Blackrock Hut, reaching it just before dark.  The days were very short now in winter, compared to what I’d been hiking in during the summer and even into fall.  After getting water and firing up my small stove to heat water for dinner, I read through the trail journal at the shelter to discover that I may be in for a difficult night of sleep.  This shelter was inhabited by a giant rat, which hikers had named ”Ratzilla”.  There were even sketches of Ratzilla in the journal, with tales of it taking food out of packs, and hauling off socks that were not secured.   I had a few mouse issues in shelters this season, a battle with a racoon, and a heavy-breathing bear or deer in the middle of the night, but had not had rats, at least to my knowledge.  It was dark by 5:45, so with dinner done and nothing else to do, I settled into my new sleeping bag which I’d just purchased a few days ago.  It was a thicker bag, rated at 15 degrees, which I thought would suffice.  With the possibility of having to do battle with Ratzilla during the night, I had three large rocks next to me to chunk at him if necessary, or smash him with if he got close, along with my hiking sticks to do battle with.   

About 45 minutes after laying there in the dark, and by myself of course, since I was the only hiker out there, I heard something scurrying through the leaves and up into the shelter.  Shining my headlight into the corner, there he was, a big, ugly rat!  It wasn’t quite the size of a cat, as some of the hikers had journaled, but he was big and ugly.  I chunked one of my rocks up at him, and he just scurried away into the other corner.  This shelter had a lower level, with a wooden upper level above.  Thankfully, I choose the lower level to lay my bag in, as the rats used the upper level all night to play their little games on (there was more than one rat).   One rat would run from one end to the other, wait a few seconds, and then run to the middle, and it would then sound like they were wrestling or something, before running to the other end.  I guess it was like midnight wrestling for the rats or something.  This went on pretty much all night.  So with this, along with very cold temperatures down into the teens, I didn’t get too much sleep that night.  The good news was that they did not get into my food or stuff, as I had it secured away, and they did not mess with me, at least to my knowledge.  

The next morning as I head up the trail leading from the shelter to the AT, I spotted a bear running up the trail after he heard me coming.  This was the 5th bear I’d seen on the trail, and the first one since way back in July.  Another day of hiking 20 miles put me into the next shelter, Hightop Hut, right at dark.  It was getting even colder, and I was higher in elevation, at about 3,500′, so I knew it would be a cold night.  Even with my new bag, and with most of my clothes on, I still got cold that night and did not sleep well, since the temperatures got down into the single digits.   I was looking forward to the next day because I was getting a ride into Luray in order to re-supply and sleep in a warm bed at a local motel.  I had arranged to have a local shuttle person pick me up along Skyline Drive at a certain mileage marker, but for some reason I was a little worried about my ride being there.  I covered another 20 miles in good time and was waiting for my pickup 45 minutes early.  I had seen just a few day hikers this day.  A couple happened to cross the road at one of the places where the AT crosses Skyline Drive, where I was waiting at about 3:30.  After visiting with them for awhile, I told them I was concerned that my ride may not show up and leave me up here with no food and nowhere to camp and stay warm.  The forecast was calling for even colder temperatures, with wind chills below zero.  I had decided there was no way I could camp out in this weather, so I had to find and depend upon a shuttle or hitch a ride into town, which would be very difficult now.  The couple graciously told me they would finish their hike in about 30 minutes, and drive back to check on me to make sure my ride showed up.  

Well, my ride did not show up, and it was getting dark and cold as they pulled up.  They took me up the road and on into Luray to my hotel, which was a little out of their way.  It turns out that the husband was a retired Marine officer, so we with my sons in the Marines, we had a good conversation about life as a Marine officer.  After checking into my motel, doing laundry, and eating dinner, my shuttle driver called me and told me she forgot to pick up up until it was too late.  Oops!  She was really nice, and was a recommended trail person, and even had a free bunkhouse at their home for hikers.  She just had a little problem remembering things, maybe with her age or something.  She promised she’d be there at 7:45 in the morning to pick me up and take me up to the trailhead, so I had no other option but to trust that she’d come through this time. 

Sharron was right on time, and we drove up to the entrance from Luray to enter Shenandoah National Park so I could be taken to where I had left off the night before and hike the 20 miles back to the Luray entrance.  Well, it had snowed the previous night, and the gate was locked as we pulled up to the park.  Just a little ice and snow had caused them to

Cold, snowy ridge in Shenandoah National Park

 shut down the entire Skyline Drive, so there was no way to get to where I needed to be, and there was no way I was equipped to camp out in this miserably cold weather.  I was really frustrated, with the park being closed, and the possibility of loosing a hiking day and messing up my schedule.  Sharron had a suggestion, to drive me north up to do another section outside of the park.  It would take some time, but I had no choice, as I could not take a zero day and finish my hike by December 10th.  So we went to Wal Mart first, so I could buy a heaver wind jacket, and then up to Ashby Gap, where I started hiking at 10:45 southward to Front Royal.  I covered 20 miles, hiking really fast, even jogging in some downhill stretches, in order to finish before dark.  I finished early at 4:45, and Sharron showed up right on time at 5:15  to take me back to their home up on the mountain, where they have a hiker bunk room over their garage.  Her and her husband Tom, a former President of the Potomac Appalachian Trail Club, graciously allow hikers to stay in their bunk room, feed them, and shuttle them along the trail. 

The park was still closed the next day due to snow on the road, so we had to improvise my schedule again.  Sharron took me 20 miles up on a county road and then up on a forrest service fire road, from where I hiked a mile uphill to the AT where I had left off two days earlier–where she forgot to pick me up.  From here, I did 20 miles down to Thorton Gap, reaching the highway into Luray right at dark.  It was miserably cold as the sun set, and the wind was continuing to howl at 20-30 mph.  I paced back and forth for over 40 minutes trying to stay warm, waiting for my cab ride to show up taking me down to the Days Inn outside of Luray for a hot shower, dinner, laundry, and a warm bed.  

I was excited on the next morning, as Becky was going to be able to fly up to Baltimore, and drive to pick me up along Skyline Drive as I hiked along  the AT going north towards Harpers again.  It was still cold, but the wind had subsided a little bit to make the hiking not quite as cold, with wind chills at least not in single digits now.  I kicked out and just walked on Skyline Drive along the AT at about 3:00, since Becky was driving up to meet me somewhere close to Hogwallow Gap on the drive.  She was right on time, as she pulled up in her Dodge rental car.  It was great to see her, and it would make my final three days so much easier and more enjoyable with her shuttling me to my stops.  

I had set up my schedule so that my final three days would be easier, with just about 46 more miles to Harpers Ferry.  The only real challenge left was what’s called the roller coaster–a 13 mile section on the AT with continuous inclines and declines just before reaching Harpers Ferry.  I found it to be not that big of a deal.  There were about ten 500′ climbs and descents, but with switchbacks, they were not that big of a deal.  Compared to many other sections, it was no different, just the fact that they were smaller and packed into a small section.  So the next two days, with the weather moderating somewhat and my wife meeting me in the afternoon, were great hiking.  

On our last night on the trail, we drove up to Harpers Ferry to stay at the Jackson Rose B&B, for somewhat of a celebration of my almost completed journey.  It is a historic old home, over 200 years old, that has been restored and converted into a really nice B&B.  Stonewall Jackson actually used our room as his headquarters during the early days of the Civil War.  Over the last few days especially, bits and pieces of my journey flashed across my mind, as I reminisced about my incredible journey along the AT.  This evening, it really all began to sink in.  I was really going to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail!  What an adventure  it has been!  

 As  Becky drove me back up to the Blackburn Trail Center the next morning where I had left off the day before to finish the last day of my journey, I noticed snow falling up on the ridge where Virginia and West Virginia border. 

A surprise snow blanketing the forest on my last day.

There was no mention of snow in the forecast that day, so it was a surprise to see the forest  covered with a light blanket of falling snow as she left me up at the base of the ridge for my short 12.5 mile hike down into Harpers Ferry.  The snow continued to fall on this cold, December morning, as I hiked somewhat more deliberately north.  I did not want to slip on a snow-covered rock, fall, and hurt myself so close to the finish.  I thought back to that first day in late May, heading off into the hot Georgia woods, not really knowing what I was going to experience over the coming months.  And here I was, hiking in the snow. 

A fitting end--hiking in the snow on the AT.

 It was almost like God had decided to put some icing on the cake by blanketing the woods with a layer of snow for me to enjoy this last day.  It gave the woods a totally new and peaceful look.  And, since we are going to produce a 2011 calendar with pictures of my AT journey, we needed some good pics for December and January, so here we are!  

After I met Becky at St. Peters Church in Harpers Ferry, took some pictures, and savored the moment, I told her, “Well, I’m finished!”  And with that, we headed back up the hill to the Appalachian Trail Conference headquarters in Harpers Ferry to fill out my 2,000-miler form, take some pictures, and celebrate with a few staff members and volunteers with a glass of sparkling grape juice.  I was one one the last thru-hikers to register this year, as most had completed going northbound ending in Maine in August, September, or early October.  I was one of only about 20 or so I believe ‘flip-floppers” who had finished in Harpers Ferry.  Overall, I was one of about 440 or so hikers who will have registered a complete thru-hike in 2010, out of thousands who tried.  

Celebrating my thru-hike at the ATC office in Harpers Ferry.

 I’m finished, or am I?  As Becky was walking down the blue blaze trail from the ATC office to the AT in Harpers, she was visiting with Red Hat, a thru-hiker from 2010 who was volunteering at the ATC.  She had lost her husband early this year, so she decided to hike the AT, which she did.  In fact, we passed each other in southern Maine sometime in late August.  I don’t remember her, but I do remember some of the hikers, such as Captain Slick, who she was hiking with at the time.  When Becky told her that she was so glad I was finished with the trail, Red Hat looked at her symathetically and only as an AT hiker can understand  replied, “Oh no honey, he’s not finished!”  

They say that thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail will change you.  And for that matter, all significant things we do, people we know, things we put our heart and soul into will change us.  As only a person who has hiked all or significant sections of the AT can truly understand–I’ve grown to love the Appalachian Trail–what it is, and what it stands for.  It’s America at it’s finest.  And while there are times I questioned where it’s going, I cursed the steep climbs and ridiculous paths it takes over every high mountain and boulder field it can find, and I struggled with the rocks, roots, mud, and curves along the path–I really loved it.  I conquered it.  Several months ago, I met several folks who had hiked the AT several times during their lifetime, some as many as eight times!  I thought to myself, why would anybody want to do this more than once?  Well, I understand now.  

I’m not saying I’ll be packing up again in March at Springer Mountain and heading north, but I do know there are still trails to walk in life.  Real trails, such as the Pacific Crest Trail and the Continental Divide Trail, which are other long distance trails over 2,000 miles long.  I’ve backpacked portions of the Continental Divide Trail in Colorado many times in Colorado as a young man many years ago.  And there are other trails and journeys in life, as a husband, father, business owner, friend, volunteer, and all the other roles we play.  There will always be trails to walk.  There are always people in our world who need a little compassion.  As scripture says, “Therefore, as you  received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him.”  The AT has changed me, and for the better I believe.  After Christmas sometime, and I’ve had time to chew and digest my adventures, I’ll write about that.  But one thing I do know, is that as Red Hat said–I’m not finished! 

Merry Christmas–and Happy Hiking!

There will be many more trails to walk in life.

 

Tags: , , , , , , ,
Posted in AT2010 | 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.

Tags: , , , , , , ,
Posted in AT2010, Appalachian Trail, Charity, Tulsa Charity, Virginia | 5 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.

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

The Message

Monday, March 8th, 2010

I had lunch last friday with a guy that was a competitor of mine for a brief time 26 years ago, as he was a Lawn Doctor franchisee, when I started my first business in 1984.  I was initially looking at buying a Lawn Doctor franchise, but decided I could do it myself.  Good decision.  I think I figured it out OK.

Upon getting back to my office, I saw that I had a message on my cell phone, and I listened to the following message I had missed while at lunch.  “Hey Pops, it’s me.  I was calling to say bye.  I got the dirt, and after sprinkling it in Afghanistan, I’ll bring back some sand from there and bring it home.”  I could tell from his voice that he was struggling a little to get the words out, working through his emotions and fear of leaving home and going to help fight a war on the other side of the world.

Our first backpacking trip at 3-years old.

Our oldest son, Lance Corporal and soon to be Corporal Jake Johnson, has been a Marine less than a year.  Last week he left his family, his 9-month old son, and a wife with twins on the way, to go serve our country in the US Marines.  His unit will be deployed somewhere in southern Afghanistan along the front lines, with 1st Marines, 2nd Batallion, Bravo Company.

We’re very proud of him (and all of our kids).  As a reminder of home, I left him with two little plastic vials of dirt, from the little league basefall field I built for his team when he was 10 (appropriately named Freedom Field) and from his Owasso High School basefall field.  That’s the dirt he mentioned in the message that he’ll sprinkle in Afghanistan, while bringing back from sand (guess they don’t really have much dirt) to bring home.

We’ve known that he was being deployed.  It came as no surprise, and we were prepared for it.  It’s his job.  That’s what Marines do–they protect our county,  they fight and win battles, they kill the enemy.  And sometimes, they get hurt, or lose  their lives, as thousands of brave Marines have over the years.

What happens to young boys?  They grow up quickly into young men as Marines.

Jake, on the far left. He's not playing paintball anymore.

I was and am proud that my son was going to do his part, in serving our country, to fight a war for a just cause.  Yes, we are at war, but it seems that the reality of that just flies right over many Americans’ heads.    I’ve always been somewhat patriotic, I believe, and have supported our servicemen and veterans.  But as with anything else–until the reality of war hits you or your family directly, and  you’re walking in those shoes of a parent whose son  is heading off to war, only then do you really fully understand.

Yes that's me, aerating the grounds at Arlington National Cemetary last July as part of our annual PLANET service project.

Visiting the US Marine Memorial in Washington D.C.

We’ve not been fearful as parents.  We know that God is in control of every situation, and our very lives.  We know that the odds are in Jake’s favor of coming home safely in 7 months, as the vast majority of Marines do with the present conflicts we are in.   This was not the case however in previous wars.   If you ‘ve never been to Arlington National Cemetary in Washington D.C., you should go.  It may change your view of the military and the sacrifice that so many have made in the past.  Yes, we trust that Jake will do great as a Marine, that they’ll do their jobs well, and he’ll come home to his wife, a son that is talking and walking, and meet his two new sons or daughters.

But for some reason, when I heard Jake’s voice on the message, I couldn’t keep from thinking, that this could possibly be the last time I may hear his voice, and that he may not be coming home.

I could sense just a little fear and uncertainty in his voice.  And I broke down in tears and lost it.  I imploded, right there  in the stillness of my office.  I’m not one to get upset easily, but hearing his voice on the message gave me the reality of my son going to war, and it  hit me between the eyes like a rock, and it broke my heart for a brief time.    I’ll miss him for the 7 months he’s gone.   But more than that, his new bride and his young son will miss him.  He will not be there for the birth of their twins.  That hurts me to think about it.  They’ll be fine, but it will be tough.  And  I’m not afraid, I’m sleeping well, and other than a brief bout or two of losing my emotions, I am and will be fine.

I’ve developed a new appreciation for the military, and their families, that I didn’t fully have before.  It’s more real now.  It’s hit home with me.  I’ve become a bigger fan of the U.S. Marines.  In fact,  our youngest son will be starting college next year on a ROTC scholorship, preparing to become a Marine officer in four years.  So we’ll have two sons in the Marines soon.

We trust Jake’s unit will perform well, they’ll do their job, they’ll win the war, and that he’ll be home safely.  But he may not.  The Marines have lost some good men and women during this war on terror, and they will continue to do so.  There will be spouses left alone, with the challenge of raising kids alone.  That’s why I’m supporting Folds of Honor as one of our five charities on the AT2010 compassionate journey.

Folds of Honor is a fairly new organizaion, started by Major Dan Rooney, an f-16 pilot and PGA golfer also.  Folds of Honor is a 501(c)(3) charitable organization with a mission to empower deserving military families with educational support and opportunities.   Their website at www.foldsofhonor.com tells their story well.  And, they are building their new headquarters in our hometown of Owasso, Oklahoma on the new Patriot Golf Course.

There are many veterans, families, and children of veterans who have paid the ultimate sacrifice who are in need of a little compassion.  That’s what Folds of Honor does.  As I broke down from  just thinking about the possibility that my son could make that sacrifice, it makes it even more personal for me to help support this organization.

So as I’m walking up the steep mountains on the Appalachian Trail, carrying my 35 lb backpack, it’ll be nothing compared to what some Marines will be doing as they carry 100 lb packs, dodging bullets and roadside bombs left by the cowards who hate our country.  There will be many times that I’ll be thinking of Jake, and all the other Marines and servicemen who are away from their families and fighting so that we can do things, like take off four months to hike the AT, and run a business.  I’ll bring back some dirt from each of the 14 states that I hike through, as a momento of my journey.  And I’ll try not to shed any tears on the dirt of those 14 states as I think about the emotions brought about by the goodbye message that Jake left me on that Friday afternoon when his unit was being deployed, flying out to war.

Semper Fi!

Pray for Jake, and all of our troops overseas.

Tags: , , , ,
Posted in AT2010, Afganistan, Charity, Marines, Tulsa Charity | 6 Comments »

A Journey Back in Time

Monday, March 1st, 2010

Last week, I took a journey back in time.  No, It wasn’t a back to the future deal, I just went back to my old high school of 38 years ago.  It had been that long since I walked the halls of Tulsa Rogers High School in 1972.  LawnAmerica is participating the annual Day of Service again, which we are helping to sponsor with the Professional Landcare Network, a network of hundreds of green industry professionals across the country.  Every spring, on Earth Day, we devote our resources to volunteer towards beautifying  areas in our local communities.  Last year, LawnAmerica treated, and is still treating, 27 acres of city park turf for free in five communities, including several in Tulsa.  Tulsa Will Rogers High School has asked for help in re-landscaping their grounds in front of the school.  So, being a graduate of Rogers, and because Rogers Young Life is one of the five charities we’re supporting with our AT2010 compassionate journey, I thought it would be a great fit for our staff to help them out this spring.  We’ll begin treating the turf in front of the school also, which looks like it’s not seen a grain of fertilizer or a lick of weed-control for 20 years.  And although our business does not do landscaping, our guys are pretty hard workers, and know how to operate a shovel and a rake pretty well.

Rogers High School in 2010

As I pulled into the parking lot in front of the school, something immediately seemed much different.  The architecture of Rogers is beautiful art deco, and is in fact on the National Historical Register.  But the school is showing its age, with a beaten down landscape, rotting windows, and old tile flooring that I swear are the same old tiles that were there 38 years ago.  The Tulsa Public Schools bond issue is being voted on this month, which if passed, will provide new windows in front, a new cafeteria, and other vital projects need for Rogers and other Tulsa schools.  With new windows in front, and improved landscaping, at least the initial appearance of the school would be greatly improved.

Rogers is a beautiful building, listed on the National Resister of Historic Places

There were no cars in front of the school, lining the streets for blocks up and down 5th and up the side streets as there had been when I was there 38 years ago.  It was a school day, but it seemed eerie going past the security guard and into the office with just a few staff inside.  The halls were the same I remember, except it seemed so quiet, and there were metal detectors at various places in the hallway.

It took a few minutes for the office staff to track down the Principal, Lyda Wilbur.  She had been covering a class, since the Tulsa Public Schools cannot find enough substitute teachers to fill their needs.  She’s an energetic, caring Hispanic woman that seemed determined to turn things around at Rogers and help make a difference in these kid’s lives.  One of the first things I asked was, “Where are all the cars that used to be overflowing into the streets on a typical school day?”  She said, “Most of our kids can’t afford cars, so they have to take the bus.”  I then asked about the size of their graduating class this year, and she replied, “About 134.  Of the in-coming freshmen entering Rogers, only about 47% of them actually graduate.”

The school is not the only thing that's changed over the years! What happened to that hair?

In 1972, we had a graduating class of about 760 I believe, and it was probably 96% white Caucasian.  Rogers was full of excitement, (sometimes too much), and the classes were full.  Our sports teams were good, we had plenty of opportunities to get involved, and the community and parents were involved in the school.  And Rogers was one of the best schools in Tulsa, graduating thousands of kids, especially from the 50’s through the 70’s, many of whom went on to become successful and productive members of our community, or moved on to other communities.   This was before the flight to the suburbs.

Ms. Wibur told us that the present Rogers student body is about 25% white, 30% African-American, and 30% Hispanic, with the remaining being other minorities.   The demographics have changed dramatically.  “A nice mix,” I stated.  Many of the local kids are transferring to other schools out of the Rogers district.  This is something that Ms. Wilbur wants to change.

As I sat and listened to Ms. Wilbur, I felt a little guilty, as our kids have been given so many opportunities to succeed, and have so many more resources at their disposal. We raised our kids in the suburban schools, Owasso in our case, which are good public schools.  We’ve been able to send two of our kids to great colleges, with our last son even having the opportunity to attend a great private school for the last two years, before heading off to college somewhere next year on a ROTC scholarship.  We, as many of those Rogers graduates from the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s, have truly been blessed to have the type of life and opportunities we’ve enjoyed.

I came to the conclusion well before my meeting with Ms. Wilbur that I wanted to help give back to the Rogers community.  That’s a big reason why I choose Tulsa Rogers Young Life as one of the five non-profits we’re raising money for through the AT2010.  But as I heard of the needs of the kids at Rogers, and sensed the passion that  Lyda has for transforming Rogers High School back into the school that it once was, I realized that much more needs to be done at Rogers, and for that matter many Tulsa area schools, than just some new landscape plants, trees, and eventually nice green grass.  Although that’s going to be nice, it’s just one small part of the solution.

These kids need hope.  They need the same resources we had growing up.  They deserve the same opportunities that other kids in other schools have.  They need a little help, and they need a little compassion.

Compassion….that’s what this AT2010 journey is really all about.

Compassion is not just feeling sorry for people, it’s rolling up your sleeves and doing something to help out.  It’s investing your time, resources, and efforts towards helping others see their hope for a better future, and helping them to break out of the cycle they are in and build a stronger generation.  It’s writing a check.  It’s doing what you do best, towards helping others not as fortunate as yourself.

Tulsa Rogers Young Life is just one organization that’s investing their efforts into helping to transform the lives of these special students.  There are hundreds of kids, roaming the halls of Tulsa Rogers (and in all schools), who are in need of spiritual direction, who need to be connected with adults who care about them.   Caring for kids, and sharing  the good news of God’s love—it’s what they do.  And Young Life does it well all across the country.  That’s why I’m supporting them, and it’s one of the organizations I’m asking people in our community to help out, through my walk across America along the Appalachian Trail.  The money we raise goes specifically to Tulsa Rogers High School—my old school.  I’m passionate about doing my little part in helping  our community to transform this school.  The Principal, Ms. Wilber, the teachers, and staff cannot do it themselves.  It needs to be a community effort.  Help us out, by showing a little compassion to these deserving kids at Rogers.

All of these five non-profits share one commanality–they are helping people in our community who need the help and compassion the most.

As for my journey, three months from now, I’ll be trudging northward through the mountains of Georgia, on my way to the Tennesse/North Carolina border along the Appalachian Trail.  It’ll be here before I know it, so I’m cranking up my physical preparation for the trail.  My back has recovered from a few weeks ago, and I’m back to normal.  I think I must have pulled a muscle in my back, as I was lifting too much weight trying to show up those young studs in the gym.  With three months before I hit the trail, I’m cutting back on my weight training, while doing more climbing, walking, running, and getting this old body to limber up a little more.

The AT is calling my name!

Spring is finally showing signs of breaking through the long winter we’ve experienced in Tulsa, which is good for LawnAmerica.  One of the many challenges of this journey is having my business in a strong position so that I can be gone four months from late May to October 1st.  After more than eleven hard years of growing and building the company and our staff, with a strong spring, I think we’ll be ready.  I have faith in our staff, that they’ll execute our game plan, and fulfill our Mission while I’m gone.  We need to have a great spring, especially with keeping our customers happy, obtaining more new customers, and growing our customer base by 10%.  That’s the challenge we have before us now at LawnAmerica.

So while I’m focusing on making these business goals happen, my heart is being pulled to the adventure of the AT, and on raising the necessary funds to help our non-profits such as Young Life to do their thing.  As of this writing on the 1st of March, we’re only sitting at about $34,000, with $66,000 to raise before reaching our goal of $100,000 for our five charities.  I have faith that we’ll get there, and hopefully before I even step foot on the AT in late May.

Tags: , , , , , ,
Posted in AT2010, Charity, Pre-hike Planning, Tulsa Charity | 11 Comments »

What Were You Thinkin’?

Wednesday, February 10th, 2010
Beaver Lake Snow

The snow is beautiful, however it makes it difficult to get much work done on the lawns.

Yes, if you’re a country music fan, you’ve heard the popular Dierks Bently song.  That’s not my story however.  It’s mid-February, and I’m hunkered down in a log cabin in Northwest Arkansas sitting by the fire.  There’s snow on the ground with icicles hanging off the roof as I look out at the view over Beaver Lake.  With the weather so cold and snowy, we’ve not been able to do much in the way of real work at LawnAmerica, so my wife and I got out of town before the latest snowstorm hit for a few days to do just sit by the fire, read, and relax.  And with the stress of knowing that every day my staff and our 22 trucks sat in the warehouse instead of out working out on lawns doing weed-control in Tulsa, I was losing about $15,000 per day, maybe a change of scenery would help me to focus on other things and relieve my mind of my worries. 

AT books

Most of the books I've read on the Appalachian Trail

And so I’ve been catching , up on my reading, with both an AT book (my 13th) under my belt, and a business book on marketing through the internet with blogs and such.  Who would have thought.  As far as the AT books, the ones I’d recommend the most are Bill Bryson’s “A Walk in the Woods”, along with “AWOL on the Appalachian Trail”, and “A Walk for Sunshine”.  Some of the others–I could write a better book I believe. 

I don’t know how, and I don’t understand how it could happen now, but my lower back is all of a sudden killing me.   It’s only a little over three months, and I’ll be heading out for Springer Mountain in Georgia to begin my journey—2,175 miles of torturous walking with a backpack on.  What were I thinkin’?  The way I feel right now, I could barely go out to gather the firewood and bring it inside.  It’s like there’s a knife stabbing me in my back every time I even bend down.  The way I feel right now, I’m asking myself, “What am I thinking?”  Can I really do this?

Since I announced to my staff just a few months ago what I felt compelled to do, we’ve set up our website, told thousands of people about my AT2010 compassionate journey, and are currently well on our way to reaching our contribution goals.   We’ve barely begun to promote the AT2010, www.AT2010Tulsa.com, and have surpassed the $30,000 mark towards our goal of raising $100,000 for five Tulsa charities.  We’ve committed to the Little Lighthouse, Salvation Army, Habitat for Humanity, Young Life, and added Folds of Honor as a last-minute change in place of John 3:16.

I’ve been energized by the response of every person I’ve shared with about the AT2010.  I was  somewhat concerned about how customers, employees, family, and the public would perceive this project of backpacking the entire Appalachian Trail.  Would they think I’m crazy, or selfish for doing this?  Other than just few family members who thought I was nuts, I’ve been pleasantly surprised as to how it’s been received.  Most by far think it’s great, and are excited about me going on this adventure, while doing something great for our community and people who need a little compassion.   We’ve secured media sponsorships with the local ABC affiliate in Tulsa, I’m getting speaking opportunities, and we’ve raised $30,000.  And I feel that this really is a calling for me—that God has blessed me with certain talents and passions which I can use for good, to help others, and to further His cause. 

But right now, the reality of my 56-year old back tightening up really worries me.  My bad arthritic hip—I can deal with through medication and determination.  A back is a different story.  My wife thinks it’s a lower back spasm.  I don’t know, I just feel like a “spas” now, that term my older brother used to call me when we were growing up. 

I’m thinking, “What did I get myself into?”  I’m committed, I’m pumped, and I’m in the process of getting physically ready to go in a few months though consistent workouts at the gym.  Now this.  Where did this back issue come from?  

I could have quietly made the decision to hike the AT, without raising money, without promotion, and just done it for me and had fun.  And if it crashed to the ground, or if I failed to complete it, as 85% of those who start out do, then it’s no big deal.  Hardly anyone except those closest to me would know, and it would be no sweat off my back.  At least I would have given it the old college try. 

But what have I done?  I’ve committed—to thousands of folks already!  I can’t fail, especially before I even strap on my backpack and start hiking on the trail.  I would be perceived as such a klutz and a wimp if I had to back out.  What about the fundraising, and the money raised?  My heart and my mind are telling me I have to get ready, and I have to go, and I must make it to Mt. Katahdin in Maine by October 1st.  Right now though, my back is telling me that I’m crazy.

I’ve got to believe though that’s it’s just a little setback, and an opportunity to have faith that it will all work out.  I just got up to put another log on the fire, and it was a struggle to even stand up to straighten my back out and bend over to get a dang log!  How am I going to do this?  I guess it’s just a reminder that with faith, anything is possible.  And a little help from modern medicine must be in order also, so I’ll be reluctantly heading to the doctor tomorrow for him to check things out and see what the deal is with my back. 

I’m telling myself it’s just one of those deals.  It will get better, and I’ll be fine, and ready to charge up Springer Mountain at the end of May.  It’s just not looking real good right now.

And it’s not looking real great right now from a business standpoint for Tulsa lawncare companies, as I’m waiting for the snow to melt, and another storm to pass, before we can finally get back out to work.  We do have a deadline to hit, with getting our customers serviced by the end of March, and adding hundreds of new customers during our busy sales season at LawnAmerica.  At least I hope and plan on adding those hundreds of new customers in spite of the economic reality of the recession we are still in.   

I’m reminded, that without Faith, it’s impossible to please God.  Just please—help my aching back!

Tags: , , , ,
Posted in AT2010, Pre-hike Planning, Uncategorized, weed-control | 4 Comments »

What If?

Tuesday, December 8th, 2009

So where did this crazy idea of hiking the Appalachian Trail  come from?

Well, while it has been building over many years, it all began to germinate quickly as I came back to my office from a typical hot, summer day in Oklahoma.  A FedEx letter was sitting on my desk.  I don’t get a lot of these, so it must be pretty important.  Hope it’s not from some angry customer wanting to take us to court over something, or an ex-employee wanting something, I thought.  Or it could just be another peddler wanting to sell us something, which we probably don’t need. 

With a little apprehension, I zipped open the carboard envelope and pulled out a neatly written letter on Trugreen letterhead.  Now that was interesting.  Trugreen are the “big guys” in our industry, with hundred of branches across the country and millions of customers.  My first lawncare business I had strarted in 1984 in Tulsa, and sold it after ten years of successful operations to these same guys.   When I sold to them in 1993, they were called TrugreenChemlawn, having been purchased by ServiceMaster, a well-respected public company.   Big business is a lot different than small business, in many respects, so the transition did not work too well for my previous employees, and many of my previous customers did not stick around for very long.  While it was a good deal for me and my family financially at the time, there were often feelings of regret on my part of selling out to the big guys. 

Backpack Spray

I've walked many miles lugging this backpack killing weeds!

 

I guess I was meant to be a lawncare guy, so after my 5-year non-compete agreement was up in 1999, I went back to what I knew the best and started LawnAmerica, at that time, not really knowing where the path I was on would take me.  But now that I was into my eleventh year back in the business, while things were going well, I was getting that little hint of boredom, or frustration, or whatever a typical entrepreneur goes through after their creation grows into maturity.  All small businesses have their challenges, but our business of making lawns more beautiful can be wearing.  That’s where I was, in the summer of 2009, in spite of being in the middle of a pretty good year overall.   Things were going well, with a great staff, and we’ve been blessed as a business.  While many business owners have struggled this year with the economy, LawnAmerica has continued to do well.  As we approach our twelfth year of business in Tulsa,  Oklahoma, we’re projected to again hit 14% growth, reaching total revenues approaching 4 million, in serving over 8,500 customers in 2010. 

It’s not easy though.  It never is when you’re in business for yourself.  “Being in business for yourself” is such a misnomer though, because when you own a small business, it’s really not for yourself.  You’re in it for many other reasons, and for many more people.  Your family, your employees, their families, vendors, and your customers to name a few, are always the focus of your workday. 

As I read the letter from the CEO of Trugreen, it was the typical “we are searching for great businesses such as yours….”  Well, from my first experience, I don’t know that it would really be a great opportunity for my current employees.  While my respect for Trugreen as a local competitor and a national leader was getting better, and I felt like they were making improvements in their service to their customers, it was still Trugreen.  It was still a big business, with accountability now to private equity investors, since they were not a public company anymore.  And whether it be a public company, or private equity investors, the ultimate goal is shareholder value, and hence money and profits.  While monetary profits are very important for all businesses, it does not drive every decision we make. 

But, I knew the money would be great.  At 56, I could really do something else, really have the freedom I yearned for, maybe start that blueberry farm I dreamed about.  Every entrepreneur and small business owner at times dreams of the time when they can walk away from their business, financially secure, with the satisfaction that their hard work and sacrifice paying off, while leaving a legacy for the future.  Having then the financial freedom to do whatever they want, at least within reason, work fewer hours, travel, buy that dream house, go fishing alot, go wherever their dreams will take them.  So as I imagined the possibility of actually selling out again, just for a few brief moments, I thought of what I would do at that point.  If I could actually walk away with my head held high, sell out, take off that load of responsibility of business ownership, and turn my paper net worth into money in the bank, what would I do? 

Immediately the thought came to me—hike the Appalachian Trail!

That’s it.  I could take as much time as I needed, without customers to please and employees to lead and manage, and with fewer responsibilities,  do what I really wanted to do.   So I dreamed, just for a few minutes at my desk, looking first at the letter, and then the piles of papers, books, computer screen, telephone, and other reminders of the reality of work and the present day. 

Nah—I can’t do that again.  I couldn’t “sell my soul to the devil” and sellout to big, corporate America again.  But for a brief few minutes, I re-captured that feeling one gets when they do sell their business, make some money, walk away from the responsibilities of small business ownership, and have the freedom to do what they really want to do.  After 

Backpacking 25 years ago, with friends and my brother.

Backpacking 26 years ago, with friends and my brother in the Colorado Mountains.

 

backpacking every summer in the Colorado Rockies since I was a teenager,  I had not backpacked much during the past 26 years.  I had taken my family, and my sons on several trips–mostly short ones.  And that experience paid off for my sons, as the oldest is now carring a 100 lb backpack serving in the Marines, while the other will be heading that way soon as he complete the Marine ROTC program. 

But wouldn’t that be an adventure now, to dust off my old backpack, take up backpacking again on the Appalachian Trail, and re-discover the passions and joys of my earlier years. 

After taking a call at my desk, and shuffling through some more papers, I started to come back to reality.

Even if I did sell out, at my age, I probably couldn’t hike the Appalachian Trail now.  I knew a little about it, enough to know that it is very long, through the Appalachian Mountains, with all kinds of  different people along the way.  It will just have to wait until I do actually decide to really sell and retire—maybe ten, or even fifteen years from now when most people retire.  By then, I’ll probably barely be able to walk to the bathroom at night for one of my two or three nightly visits, I thought to myself, trying to discount even the crazy thought of attempting to do something like that.  It’s not going to happen.  Back to business, as I read the letter again, and slid it underneath my calender pad on my desk. 

So after quickly giving up the notion of evening thinking about selling my business, and heading off to the mountains for the adventure of a lifetime, I was back to solving employee issues, working with vendors, obtaining more customers, and figuring out how to kill weeds better.  That’s OK, as I still did enjoy the business.   It’s all good.  We were growing, doing a lot of good things in the community, and I felt that while far from perfect, I really was overall a good steward of what God had given us.  The thought of doing something adventuresome and challenging did not go away however.  So I decided to spend some time utilizing one of my strengths, in reading and learning more about the Appalachian Trail. 

The next day I was on the internet.  With a  few clicks of the mouse, I was delving into information on the Appalachian Trail, or AT as it’s commonly called.  I ordered two books on Amazon, and quickly engulfed them within a few days of their arrival.  I discovered that the son of one of my son’s football coaches had actually walked the entire trail, or thru-hiked it as it’s called, from Georgia to Maine.  He did it in 100 days, but he’s a young 25 year-old young buck.  By the time I retire, I may be way too old to do this, even if I am still alive.   There are no guarantees that I would live another day, let alone another ten or twenty years.  As I read and discovered more about the AT, dreamed of taking on a challenge such as this, and experiencing this part of America, I began to ask myself a question. 

What if?

iStock_000000637976Medium

Lots and lots of trees, and little grass!

 

What if I decided to hike the AT anyway?  This adventure of thru-hiking the entire Appalachian Trail  really intrigued me,  so I ordered more books, and talked to more people, and Googled the AT every night.  The more I learned, and the more I visualized myself doing this now, even without selling out. 

An excitement began to build up inside me, that I could not rationally explain away.  Would it be responsible for a business owner, husband, parent, and son to just take off for months in order to backpack across America?  Is it selfish to do so, with so many other responsibilities?   I spoke with my wife, and just a few of my close friends about what was going on in my mind, assuring them I wasn’t having a mid-life crisis or running away from problems.   It was just something that all of a sudden, I wanted to do.  It was a challenge.  It was doing something that I had really enjoyed as a teenager and young adult, but had to give up with all the responsibilities of being a husband, father, business owner, coach, Sunday School teacher, friend, neighbor, and all the other activities and responsibilites of adulthood.  My passions from my childhood and earlier years began to re-germintate.  ( I recommend reading “Now, Discover Your Strenths” by Marcus Buckingham, along with “Strengfhfinders 2.0″ by Tom Rath.) 

Hiking the AT would definatelly be a physical and mental challenge, even if I could take off.  Most people take 5-6 months to complete the entire trail. 

Most people in fact do not make it the entire 2,175 miles, with only 10-15% of  hikers attempting to thru-hiking the AT actually making  to the end.

And most people who hike it are younger than 56 years old!  What if I could try it now?   Could I pull it off?   I was in reasonably good shape, and I was mentally strong, so the more I thought about it, the more strongly I felt that I could do it.  My doctor prescribed what he called his “secret weapon pills”, which immediately caused my hip pain of several years to go away.  That got me excited, as I thought that without the constant hip pain, I could pull this off.  It would take me four months, as I really could not be away any longer than that.  Knowing that I had to be in great shape to make it would provide extra incentive in my physical preparations to get ready. 

One of the strengths I have is a strong belief system, which drives me in especially in my roles as business owner, husband, and father.  One thing that makes LawnAmerica unique is that one of our Core Values is to honor God by acting as a steward towards all that God has given us.  One way we do that is by giving back to the community through monetary and time donations.   So as I began to brainstorm as to how this hike could not just be about me,–what if I did it to raise awareness and money for some of the organizations we’ve helped in the past? 

So the idea of my journey to be in conjunction with our values of helping and giving back to the community quickly evolved, as I spoke to several of my friends from these organizations.  LawnAmerica would commit $50,000 in matching donations towards raising another $50,000 from customers, friends, and others, to be contributed to five special charities in the Tulsa area.  By sponsoring my hike at a certain amount per mile, or with fixed donations, our goal would be to raise and contribute $100,000 divided up amoung The Little Lighthouse, Tulsa Rogers (my old H.S), Young Life, Folds of Honor, Habitat for Humanity, and the Salvation Army.  Our emphasis is on helping people in the Tulsa area with financial, housing, physical, educational, and their spiritual needs. 

We came up with the name AT2010—A Compassionate Journey.  It was going to be much more than just a long backpacking trip across the mountains for myself.  Oh I could envision myself having fun, but also knew it was going to be very difficult. 

 But it had to be just not about me—others had to benefit.

It had to be a win-win for all.  I felt that after talking with others, including now my staff, that this could be just that—an adventure of a lifetime for myself, while helping many other people and organizations in the community with my efforts.   While not trying to promote my business directly, it would allow even more of the community, and potential customers, to see clearly what we were all about.  People like to do business with good, honest people who give back to the community.  That’s who we are, so I would gladly accept any positive buzz and publicity that would help our business obtain more customers. 

So it was only after about three months of reading about eight  books on the Appalachian Trail, visiting with a few folks who had done it, conferring with my family, my staff, and a few trusted friends, along with prayer, that I made the decision to pull the trigger and go for it.  I’m sure that some may think I’m nuts, and I know that they’ll be others who would  perceive this to be selfish, crazy, or foolish.  Some will think that I won’t make it to the end.  So who cares?  All I know is that for some reason, there is a passion that’s developed, along with a vision of the good things that could come from this.  I’ve always felt that God “calls” us to do certain things, and to be certain people.  It’s not just the preachers who God calls—it’s everyone who will listen, discern, and act upon that calling. 

I didn’t fully understand it, but I know that I was born to hike the Appalachian Trail at 56 years of age.

Katahdin

The final goal--Mt. Katahdin in Maine.

 

So this is how I processed and acted upon that initial thought of “what if I could hike the Appalachian Trail.”   It all started  with a dream, a vision, or wanting to accomplish something for myself  and for others, and a longing for adventure.  So as winter approaches, I have a little less than six months to get ready to go.  If it was just a matter of getting myself physically ready and saving some money (It will cost me about $4,500 for this hike, plus lost wages), that would be easy.  But this is more that just a hike.  It really is a journey.  It’s not just about me, although the success of this deal rests squarely on my shoulders, and my legs, and my arthritic hip in carrying my pack for over 2,175 miles in four months time.  Obtaining support, raising $50,000 in donations in a tough economy, and keeping my business growing and healthy so that we can donate our $50,000 in matching funds is going to be even more of a challenge. 

I’m not in this just for myself,  just as being a successful small business owner cannot be in it just for themselves.  Only when the focus is on others, will a business owner truly be successful.  And by using the same principles of helping others, of showing compassion, of putting others before myself, I hope to make this AT2010 truly a journey of compassion, helping to benefit many other people, and making a difference in the Tulsa area community in which we live. 

And at the same time, I’ll be having a blast!   Now hiking for over 2,000 miles through rain, extreme temperatures, going days without a shower, sleeping on the ground, eating tasteless food, fending off ticks, bugs, snakes, wild boars, and maybe even bears may not sound too fun for many people, it trips my trigger just thinking about it.  I’m ready to lace up the hiking boots, throw on my backpack, and head to Georgia!  First things first though, as without preparation and planning, I will fail. 

Reality check–get to work.  I’ve got alot to do before heading to Springer Mountain in Georgia at the end of May. 

iStock_000005740078Small

I'll be standing here by Oct. 1, 2010!

Tags: , , , , ,
Posted in AT2010, Pre-hike Planning | 8 Comments »