So what did I get out of all this?
This is my last post. I might add a couple more photos or something but I’m done hiking so I’m wrapping up this blog. Here’s my final thoughts, although I’d like to edit and add more to them, and sorry it took so long to get this last piece of the puzzle (see #5) up online.
Top 5 things I missed, or have a newfound appreciation for:
1. Climate Control. In the first few days I spent around me dad's house, I subconsciously stayed awake throughout the nights, with the lights on and listening to music or whatever. And during the day, I'd hit the lights, close the blinds and watch a movie or something in the dark. Being able to adjust the overhead lighting is nothing short of playing God. Yes I had a headlamp while I was hiking, but that just gives you focused light, like looking at the world through a periscope. Being able to have a bright and sunny world at 11pm and a dark and cozy one at 1pm really is defying “God’s Will”. Harnessing electricity is mankind’s greatest triumph over the natural world.
Although some things were arguably better in the hiking condition. Getting up to pee in the night, I'd just click on my headlamp and stumble however far I deemed necessary. To walk across the house, however, requires the successful navigation of 4-5 light switches as you move throughout the house. I kept forgetting that light doesn't come from my forehead, and I keep reaching for it and would be stuck standing there, looking like a I'm pretending to be a unicorn, before realizing it. But lights, as well as overhead fans, A/C, window shades, thermostats, and more are amazing. Furniture is something I can’t even begin to discuss, and would probably be #6 if this list expanded to a top 10.
2. Women. Now keep your head out of the gutter on this one (though I miss them that way too) but I just mean the COMPANY of women. The PRESENCE and INFLUENCE of them. I've always been more of a ladies' man than a man's man. I've been living in a world without a woman's touch. And, as James Brown puts it, "it's a man's world, it would be nothing without a woman or a girl." I become more nerdy, slovenly, anal-retentive, and just upset without women. I'd like to think that the perfect woman is one around whom I can be all nerdy and slovenly, as that's my natural state ("Let's eat a lot of ice cream and watch Lord of the Rings!"). But all the pros and cons of being domesticated are gone when I'm stuck in the woods without the company of women. I missed just having them around. Flirting, or even just listening to women interact with other women. I got so sick of the “manly” conversations people would attempt to engage me in. Being out of the ballpark, much more than home runs you just miss stepping up to the plate.
Every woman gets about a 2 1/2 point bump in the eyes of a lonesome hiker, so a 4 1/2 becomes a respectable 7 and a 7 1/2 becomes a perfect 10. Basically all single strait women within a decade of my age are attractive to me now. And, more than anything, it's just great having them around.
3. Cotton. It's sucked wearing these 21st-Century fabrics 24/7. A nice cotton tee goes a long way. When was the last time you went 6 months without wearing jeans? Cotton (or just "comfy clothes") is such a luxury I can't even begin to articulate it. And being able to wear one comfortable cotton outfit one day, and then being able to wear a completely different cotton outfit the next, and not have to carry the other outfit the whole time, is absolutely fantastic.
4. Not having to unpack and repack everything every time I move. Don't even think about the weight. Just imagine having to pack your whole house into your car every time you drive somewhere. I took George Clooney’s character from Up In The Air a little too literally about having your whole life in a backpack. It’s exhausting. People may say you don’t get too attached to places you are temporarily, and that’s true. But if you’ve ever been in one hotel room and then been forced to move to another you know it’s not enjoyable. And now imagine that over and over and over again, every time you go anywhere.
5. A Lack of Perfectionism. It sucks having to reach 100%. How many groceries are in your pantry? When I would get to a town I often would have literally no food left. Imagine going grocery shopping, and then eating exactly everything you bought (no more no less) over, say, 5 days, and then going back to the store. Repeat. You might think that's what you do already but I promise you, you do not. Some specific food, sure. You buy milk, run out, then buy more. But spices, condiments, dressings? These you seem to never run out of. You may see an empty pantry when you zone off at it and proclaim there’s no food in the house, but I wholeheartedly disagree.
When I hiked the Tahoe Rim Trail last summer I (incorrectly) said I wasn’t going to thru-hike anything again, because I didn’t like that “pushing thru to get to 100%” mentality. It’s nice to just do stuff, not do 100% of something. I’m a big dabbler, and I’ve oversaturated myself with hiking, which was just a light hobby before this.
So go out there and hike, but not too much. Interact with those you find attractive and for heaven’s sake wear what feels comfortable and adjust the rest of your adjustable context to your comfort. But that which you can’t control you shouldn’t focus on, and none of us control 100% of our world. Thanks for reading this and I’ll let you know if I decide to do another blog on some other adventure. I’m writing this as I commute via trail through Louisiana so I’m still cursed with the need to be transient, but I’m looking forward to spending as much time as possible in the same place, whereever that may be.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Grocery Shopping
So most of my "adjustmenting" has been lying around the house, appreciating television and climate control (More On What I've Missed Most In A Future Post, Coming Soon). I did go to the grocery store, which had my folks worried about me having culture shock. Here's what I expected to experience:
"Hi there! You grocery shopping?" Yep. "Doing the whole store?" Yep. "Ah man that's so cool. I'm just here to get some milk. You see I have a job and my wife and kids are waiting out in the car, otherwise I'd shop through the whole store." Okay. "When'd you start?" About 20 minutes ago. "And when do you hope to be done?" I don't know, 10 minutes from now? "Did you hear about that girl that shopped through every aisle in 4 minutes?" Yeah vaguely. "You going Bakery to Pharmacy or Pharmacy to Bakery?" Pharmacy to Bakery. "Oh really? Most people don't go that way, as the main entrance is near the Bakery and Checkout is closer to the Pharmacy side. Ah so you're almost done! You only have like 2 aisles left in the store. Congratulations! Hey man you want some coupons?" Um, sure. "Yeah, you know, Grocery Magic. I like to give to others sometimes." I see. "How many things do you put in your cart per aisle?" I don't know, it varies. "You got some Corn Flakes in your cart, you really like Corn Flakes?" Obviously. "I prefer Raisin Bran myself. It's got more fiber per serving, it's got environmentally-friendly packaging, plus a dual-core 3 GHz processor." I don't care. "And you should really eat your cereal in Almond milk. That's what I'm here to buy." So go do that. "Have you seen any of the people who work here?" Yeah, a mom and two cubs. "Oh man what'd you do? I'd have been so scared" Just went about my business. It's more concerned about restocking the aisles and protecting its young than bothering with you. But if you just leave your food lying around they'll take it back to their den. "You grocery shopping all by yourself?" Yes. "You ever get lonely?" That's the furthest thing from the truth right now. "Yeah my friend Mike's cousin thru-shopped the grocery store back in 2005........"
And then repeat. With every single person you pass in the store. Again. And again. But lo and behold it was not like that. People kept to themselves. And, despite having very narrow aisles that forced you to pass within close proximity of each other, you did not end up sucked into a 20 minute conversation while your ice cream was melting. No, I said maybe four polite words to the woman at checkout and I didn't utter a single other word the whole time I was in there. It was awesome.
I was a bit of a recluse before I started, and some might think a 6-month hike would change that. But in actuality I moved in the opposite direction of what most would think: I'm even more of a recluse. It's not that I'm now afraid of the big, bad world out there now. It's never seemed less intimidating, to be honest. But my time on the A.T. was, in fact, time spent in public space. I've had no privacy. At any given moment a stranger might walk up and sleep 6 inches next to you sleeping in a shelter. While I now trust in the goodness of mankind more than ever (I never met a single hiker the whole time who had had anything stolen from him/her on the trail) I do believe that to achieve Happiness (and Security) is to be able to sleep behind a locked door. I'll post a list of what I've missed or appreciate the most soon, and being able to lock the place where you sleep at night is one of them.
"Hi there! You grocery shopping?" Yep. "Doing the whole store?" Yep. "Ah man that's so cool. I'm just here to get some milk. You see I have a job and my wife and kids are waiting out in the car, otherwise I'd shop through the whole store." Okay. "When'd you start?" About 20 minutes ago. "And when do you hope to be done?" I don't know, 10 minutes from now? "Did you hear about that girl that shopped through every aisle in 4 minutes?" Yeah vaguely. "You going Bakery to Pharmacy or Pharmacy to Bakery?" Pharmacy to Bakery. "Oh really? Most people don't go that way, as the main entrance is near the Bakery and Checkout is closer to the Pharmacy side. Ah so you're almost done! You only have like 2 aisles left in the store. Congratulations! Hey man you want some coupons?" Um, sure. "Yeah, you know, Grocery Magic. I like to give to others sometimes." I see. "How many things do you put in your cart per aisle?" I don't know, it varies. "You got some Corn Flakes in your cart, you really like Corn Flakes?" Obviously. "I prefer Raisin Bran myself. It's got more fiber per serving, it's got environmentally-friendly packaging, plus a dual-core 3 GHz processor." I don't care. "And you should really eat your cereal in Almond milk. That's what I'm here to buy." So go do that. "Have you seen any of the people who work here?" Yeah, a mom and two cubs. "Oh man what'd you do? I'd have been so scared" Just went about my business. It's more concerned about restocking the aisles and protecting its young than bothering with you. But if you just leave your food lying around they'll take it back to their den. "You grocery shopping all by yourself?" Yes. "You ever get lonely?" That's the furthest thing from the truth right now. "Yeah my friend Mike's cousin thru-shopped the grocery store back in 2005........"
And then repeat. With every single person you pass in the store. Again. And again. But lo and behold it was not like that. People kept to themselves. And, despite having very narrow aisles that forced you to pass within close proximity of each other, you did not end up sucked into a 20 minute conversation while your ice cream was melting. No, I said maybe four polite words to the woman at checkout and I didn't utter a single other word the whole time I was in there. It was awesome.
I was a bit of a recluse before I started, and some might think a 6-month hike would change that. But in actuality I moved in the opposite direction of what most would think: I'm even more of a recluse. It's not that I'm now afraid of the big, bad world out there now. It's never seemed less intimidating, to be honest. But my time on the A.T. was, in fact, time spent in public space. I've had no privacy. At any given moment a stranger might walk up and sleep 6 inches next to you sleeping in a shelter. While I now trust in the goodness of mankind more than ever (I never met a single hiker the whole time who had had anything stolen from him/her on the trail) I do believe that to achieve Happiness (and Security) is to be able to sleep behind a locked door. I'll post a list of what I've missed or appreciate the most soon, and being able to lock the place where you sleep at night is one of them.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Thank You
Thank you to all the people who helped make my trip a reality. I wouldn't have been able to do it without you. I unfortunately lost the book I had been writing everyone's name, etc. in, so please forgive me if I forgot to put you on here. And I'll probably sporadically add names onto here, so if you're not here at first you might be later. So these are in a completely random order:
First my mom, who has always given me the most support and mailed several boxes to me, among countless other versions of assistance.
Jack "Appalashireman" and Natalie "Moosemulch" for Dinner at Pinkham Notch, snakebite treatment, and good company.
The Waynesboro Viriginia YMCA, for a free shower and for being so hiker-friendly.
Mary "Valverie" and her son for some rope, a terrible but engrossing book, and good company.
Sam & Adam, for keeping me young, getting songs stuck in my head, and keeping in touch throughout the trip, despite not seeing each other after New Hampshire (they were always ahead of me).
(this is me singing something Sam & Adam were humming earlier).
Sally "Ruby Slippers" in Norwich VT for letting me stay with her. She even called to check up on me months later. If you're reading this, thanks. I was in the Shenadoahs in Virginia when you called, and I only got a voicemail and no missed-call number, since my phone was off, so I was unable to call you back since I don't know your number.
My Dad, who shipped boxes and his self a few times, visiting me and finishing the last day with me. And thanks to Carol and Miranda as well, for helping him help me, not to mention things like buying me an iPod.
Chris "No Budget" & his dog Mofo, who made me miss my own dog more than anyone else.
Bobby Leonard, Noog, Wade, & Jeff. Four fun kids I camped with in Vermont and who were good company.
Megan in Keene, NH, who I mostly sincerely wish to see again and wish I had successfully convinced to come to Delaware Water Gap, PA when she almost did.
Bob, Beth, and Leah Volat, who all welcomed me like a long-lost relative and were my most gracious and hospitable hosts.
Patrick, a LT thru-hiker I camped with on 7/24 who shared his flask of whiskey.
A nice couple I met at Gifford Woods State Park in Vermont, who were very willing to share their food, which was meticulously planned.
A guy named "Stats" I met in New Jersey, who also had meticulously planned meals and a willingness to share them.
Uncle Johnny's in Erwin, TN.
Bolt, GirlPilot, Team Blackcat, various people named Jason, and Sawyer, who helped me remember to stop and enjoy myself. They were all extremely fast hikers, and did the trail in half the time I did. And stopped and smelled zero flowers.
Mr Cheap, who, like the speed demons above, reminded me to make sure I took every step. He skipped ahead ~100 miles to finish on time, and it was eating him up. I'm proud to say I hiked a continuous footpath from Katahdin to Springer, and any steps that were not officially white-blaze were parallel to it in some way, and amounted to less than half of 1% of the 2181 miles.
Connie and Travis at the Greasy Creek Friendly in NC. Very sweet and loving, and I got to put my footprints on her kitchen floor in blue paint, which was a lot of fun.
Bacon Jam and his girlfriend Jungle Fox, who I was glad to meet in Maine, and had fun with in Hanover NH.
The Belmont Outing Club, which was my favorite of the Outing Clubs I met, if only because I got to give a girl a hug.
The Haverford Outing Club, whose students seem very intelligent regarding philosophy and biology, but could work on their mathematical and navigation skills. But I loved the lot of them as we camped together in the Mt Rodgers, VA area.
The Relax Inn in Atkins, VA, which, despite just being a truckstop, was indeed relaxing.
Lumbermack, Dwayne and Wayne, who gave me a ride and some trailmagic (sodas and crackers) by Ceres, VA.
The "Party Train" with varying members including Chief, Tomatio, Vlad, Sk8, Shirtless, Redbeard, Foot Z, Pilot, Dozer, Bucko, Unc, Vesuvio, and whoever else. Because people need to relax and talk about something other than hiking with other hikers, and the party train was always a welcoming place to unwind. I had some good chess matches with Vlad, and the ongoing risk games were as epic as any mountain climb. I wish you all the best.
Short Fuse, who I had a wonderful day picking blueberries with, and who was always close, and I lament not catching her at the end.
The Town of Glasgow, VA. for it's hospitality, hiker-friendliness and in-town shelter, and most of all its giant dinosaur.
My favorite Nicole, my other favorite Nicole, Chris, Jess, and even Drew in Winston-Salem, NC, for putting up with me and my smelly and bug-filled bag, as well as taking me to a downtown "Rock the Block" event, which is almost the exact opposite of hiking. And Nicole for several other reasons.
Jason the flipflopper, who shared with me and even attempted to get my guidebook back to me. But he was, alas, unsuccessful, which is why I'm just doing this thank-you list off the top of my head.
Ed, Travis, Teresa, and Labelle who let me sleep on an air mattress and gave me so much food in the Shenadoahs. You are all very beautiful people.
The Allenberry in Boiling Springs, although your price increases are like Netflix's.
Peter "Leaf", who gave me my full trail name.
Rebekah at the Lake Shore House in Monson, ME. My first real AT Hostel on the trip, it was quite possibly my favorite. And to the guy who gave me a ride and played guitar at the bar: Good set and thanks again.
To Sundowner, who I really liked but who I was not meant to hike with, as we got lost for hours. HOURS!
Jim Murray, who is so generous to hikers and has a beautiful property.
Amp"Lexus" who happily took the role of ladies' man so I didn't have to.
My friends who gave me various versions of encouragement, including Jake Lacey, Mike Murry, Hunter Mulhal, Dianne Ford, Chris & Melissa Dominguez, Amanda Seelman, Jessica Lomelin, and others.
The town of Linden, VA, where I was given an apple by one nice man and then minutes later was given a beer by another as I just passed thru.
Blah Blah, a Nobo with a chip on his shoulder, who I was able to find common ground with in music, among other things.
Shaw's in Monson, ME for THE best breakfast deal on the entire trail.
The ATC in Harper's Ferry for the big map and organizing and all the necessary evils that you do.
The Safety Tribe, who make all other hikers feel less lazy by comparison.
Native Landscapes and Garden Center in NY, and "Dust" who was working there. Although there were some bad things going on (the place had just been robbed) they were very kind to me and let me stay the night there.
Evan Chadwick, for countless things, especially his beat boxing ability.
Vesuvio, who was probably my favorite fellow hiker, and I'm not even sure why. But just overall "good vibes".
Curtis and Hawk at Standing Bear, just North of the Smokies. It was a cool place and was the first time I'd ever used an old-fashioned washboard and wringer to do laundry.
The Montebello General Store, where the people were very nice as I moved before & after seeing Nicole.
Upper Goose Pond in Massachusetts, one of only 3 on-trail zeroes I took. Free Pancakes? Yeah that's worth staying a whole other day.
Another hiker just outside of Dalton, MA, who also shared my love of rhyming: Nutter Butter Peanut Butter Cookie Bite Sandwich.
Tom Levardi, the legend of the AT, who is even more humbly good since the arrival of the Birdcage.
The Methodist Church in Damascus, VA and "The Place" behind it. Despite what rumors floated around, we treated the place with care and I am very thankful they keep it open to hikers.
The wonderful woman I met at the grocery store in Daleville, VA, who gave me a giftcard after we talked awhile and I said I was a thru hiker.
Julia Tyler, who inspired my thru-hike and has given me wonderful encouragement along the way.
The Afton Mountain visitor's center and the folks who gave me a free ride in/out of Waynesboro, VA.
Harrison's Pierce Pond Camps, for the 12-pancake breakfast, and the ability to play with Sam & Adam and hear an interesting political debate about windmills.
My sister Brenna and her husband Grant, who sent me some fun stuff and lots of love. And thanks to the Patti clan for the socks, Jerkey, Jacket, Reading Material, and all the love.
The Stratton Motel and Pine Ellis Lodge in Maine
The Lewis and Mark Experience, who were good company.
Mike Kelly for selflessly giving me his OtterBox Defender for my phone, which suffered a lot of abuse, but thanks to his case it survived the whole trip.
Jeri & ....AH I can't remember his name! But the family-operated White Mountains Lodge and Hostel. One of only 3 on-trail zeroes, and strait-up my favorite place I stayed on the trail.
Brad "Woody", who I saw in ME, VT, PA, MD, WV, VA, TN, & NC, making him the hiker I was in the most states with. I never saw Nate "continuing getting bent" Jochen in Maine, and really my extensive interactions with Woody in Maine might have been slightly exaggerated. But thanks to them both, the fellow hikers I spent the most time with.
Jenn Bower for some good cookies and drunk dials.
The Port Clinton, PA pavilion and The Church of the Mountain in Delaware Water Gap, PA, Cumberland Farms in Wallingford, VT, and all of the Huts in the White Mountains of NH.
Jeremy and Pasquiano, my first trail angels who gave me sooo much food and played football with me and really helped a complete stranger out. A lot of people on this trip were strangers who helped me for no reason other than altruism, and I can't thank you all enough.
Erin "Fern Toe" who has no idea who I am, but we actually met on day 1, and then I followed her in the logs as she was always good about writing. And always ahead of me.
Heather Mooney for throwing me the first surprise party of my entire life and giving me some good trinkets before I set out on this wonderful adventure.
The Doyle in Duncannon, every hiker's favorite place to stay.
Basically every person and establishment in Hanover, NH.
And thank you, for sitting there and reading this.
First my mom, who has always given me the most support and mailed several boxes to me, among countless other versions of assistance.
Jack "Appalashireman" and Natalie "Moosemulch" for Dinner at Pinkham Notch, snakebite treatment, and good company.
The Waynesboro Viriginia YMCA, for a free shower and for being so hiker-friendly.
Mary "Valverie" and her son for some rope, a terrible but engrossing book, and good company.
Sam & Adam, for keeping me young, getting songs stuck in my head, and keeping in touch throughout the trip, despite not seeing each other after New Hampshire (they were always ahead of me).
(this is me singing something Sam & Adam were humming earlier).
Sally "Ruby Slippers" in Norwich VT for letting me stay with her. She even called to check up on me months later. If you're reading this, thanks. I was in the Shenadoahs in Virginia when you called, and I only got a voicemail and no missed-call number, since my phone was off, so I was unable to call you back since I don't know your number.
My Dad, who shipped boxes and his self a few times, visiting me and finishing the last day with me. And thanks to Carol and Miranda as well, for helping him help me, not to mention things like buying me an iPod.
Chris "No Budget" & his dog Mofo, who made me miss my own dog more than anyone else.
Bobby Leonard, Noog, Wade, & Jeff. Four fun kids I camped with in Vermont and who were good company.
Megan in Keene, NH, who I mostly sincerely wish to see again and wish I had successfully convinced to come to Delaware Water Gap, PA when she almost did.
Bob, Beth, and Leah Volat, who all welcomed me like a long-lost relative and were my most gracious and hospitable hosts.
Patrick, a LT thru-hiker I camped with on 7/24 who shared his flask of whiskey.
A nice couple I met at Gifford Woods State Park in Vermont, who were very willing to share their food, which was meticulously planned.
A guy named "Stats" I met in New Jersey, who also had meticulously planned meals and a willingness to share them.
Uncle Johnny's in Erwin, TN.
Bolt, GirlPilot, Team Blackcat, various people named Jason, and Sawyer, who helped me remember to stop and enjoy myself. They were all extremely fast hikers, and did the trail in half the time I did. And stopped and smelled zero flowers.
Mr Cheap, who, like the speed demons above, reminded me to make sure I took every step. He skipped ahead ~100 miles to finish on time, and it was eating him up. I'm proud to say I hiked a continuous footpath from Katahdin to Springer, and any steps that were not officially white-blaze were parallel to it in some way, and amounted to less than half of 1% of the 2181 miles.
Connie and Travis at the Greasy Creek Friendly in NC. Very sweet and loving, and I got to put my footprints on her kitchen floor in blue paint, which was a lot of fun.
Bacon Jam and his girlfriend Jungle Fox, who I was glad to meet in Maine, and had fun with in Hanover NH.
The Belmont Outing Club, which was my favorite of the Outing Clubs I met, if only because I got to give a girl a hug.
The Haverford Outing Club, whose students seem very intelligent regarding philosophy and biology, but could work on their mathematical and navigation skills. But I loved the lot of them as we camped together in the Mt Rodgers, VA area.
The Relax Inn in Atkins, VA, which, despite just being a truckstop, was indeed relaxing.
Lumbermack, Dwayne and Wayne, who gave me a ride and some trailmagic (sodas and crackers) by Ceres, VA.
The "Party Train" with varying members including Chief, Tomatio, Vlad, Sk8, Shirtless, Redbeard, Foot Z, Pilot, Dozer, Bucko, Unc, Vesuvio, and whoever else. Because people need to relax and talk about something other than hiking with other hikers, and the party train was always a welcoming place to unwind. I had some good chess matches with Vlad, and the ongoing risk games were as epic as any mountain climb. I wish you all the best.
Short Fuse, who I had a wonderful day picking blueberries with, and who was always close, and I lament not catching her at the end.
The Town of Glasgow, VA. for it's hospitality, hiker-friendliness and in-town shelter, and most of all its giant dinosaur.
My favorite Nicole, my other favorite Nicole, Chris, Jess, and even Drew in Winston-Salem, NC, for putting up with me and my smelly and bug-filled bag, as well as taking me to a downtown "Rock the Block" event, which is almost the exact opposite of hiking. And Nicole for several other reasons.
Jason the flipflopper, who shared with me and even attempted to get my guidebook back to me. But he was, alas, unsuccessful, which is why I'm just doing this thank-you list off the top of my head.
Ed, Travis, Teresa, and Labelle who let me sleep on an air mattress and gave me so much food in the Shenadoahs. You are all very beautiful people.
The Allenberry in Boiling Springs, although your price increases are like Netflix's.
Peter "Leaf", who gave me my full trail name.
Rebekah at the Lake Shore House in Monson, ME. My first real AT Hostel on the trip, it was quite possibly my favorite. And to the guy who gave me a ride and played guitar at the bar: Good set and thanks again.
To Sundowner, who I really liked but who I was not meant to hike with, as we got lost for hours. HOURS!
Jim Murray, who is so generous to hikers and has a beautiful property.
Amp"Lexus" who happily took the role of ladies' man so I didn't have to.
My friends who gave me various versions of encouragement, including Jake Lacey, Mike Murry, Hunter Mulhal, Dianne Ford, Chris & Melissa Dominguez, Amanda Seelman, Jessica Lomelin, and others.
The town of Linden, VA, where I was given an apple by one nice man and then minutes later was given a beer by another as I just passed thru.
Blah Blah, a Nobo with a chip on his shoulder, who I was able to find common ground with in music, among other things.
Shaw's in Monson, ME for THE best breakfast deal on the entire trail.
The ATC in Harper's Ferry for the big map and organizing and all the necessary evils that you do.
The Safety Tribe, who make all other hikers feel less lazy by comparison.
Native Landscapes and Garden Center in NY, and "Dust" who was working there. Although there were some bad things going on (the place had just been robbed) they were very kind to me and let me stay the night there.
Evan Chadwick, for countless things, especially his beat boxing ability.
Vesuvio, who was probably my favorite fellow hiker, and I'm not even sure why. But just overall "good vibes".
Curtis and Hawk at Standing Bear, just North of the Smokies. It was a cool place and was the first time I'd ever used an old-fashioned washboard and wringer to do laundry.
The Montebello General Store, where the people were very nice as I moved before & after seeing Nicole.
Upper Goose Pond in Massachusetts, one of only 3 on-trail zeroes I took. Free Pancakes? Yeah that's worth staying a whole other day.
Another hiker just outside of Dalton, MA, who also shared my love of rhyming: Nutter Butter Peanut Butter Cookie Bite Sandwich.
Tom Levardi, the legend of the AT, who is even more humbly good since the arrival of the Birdcage.
The Methodist Church in Damascus, VA and "The Place" behind it. Despite what rumors floated around, we treated the place with care and I am very thankful they keep it open to hikers.
The wonderful woman I met at the grocery store in Daleville, VA, who gave me a giftcard after we talked awhile and I said I was a thru hiker.
Julia Tyler, who inspired my thru-hike and has given me wonderful encouragement along the way.
The Afton Mountain visitor's center and the folks who gave me a free ride in/out of Waynesboro, VA.
Harrison's Pierce Pond Camps, for the 12-pancake breakfast, and the ability to play with Sam & Adam and hear an interesting political debate about windmills.
My sister Brenna and her husband Grant, who sent me some fun stuff and lots of love. And thanks to the Patti clan for the socks, Jerkey, Jacket, Reading Material, and all the love.
The Stratton Motel and Pine Ellis Lodge in Maine
The Lewis and Mark Experience, who were good company.
Mike Kelly for selflessly giving me his OtterBox Defender for my phone, which suffered a lot of abuse, but thanks to his case it survived the whole trip.
Jeri & ....AH I can't remember his name! But the family-operated White Mountains Lodge and Hostel. One of only 3 on-trail zeroes, and strait-up my favorite place I stayed on the trail.
Brad "Woody", who I saw in ME, VT, PA, MD, WV, VA, TN, & NC, making him the hiker I was in the most states with. I never saw Nate "continuing getting bent" Jochen in Maine, and really my extensive interactions with Woody in Maine might have been slightly exaggerated. But thanks to them both, the fellow hikers I spent the most time with.
Jenn Bower for some good cookies and drunk dials.
The Port Clinton, PA pavilion and The Church of the Mountain in Delaware Water Gap, PA, Cumberland Farms in Wallingford, VT, and all of the Huts in the White Mountains of NH.
Jeremy and Pasquiano, my first trail angels who gave me sooo much food and played football with me and really helped a complete stranger out. A lot of people on this trip were strangers who helped me for no reason other than altruism, and I can't thank you all enough.
Erin "Fern Toe" who has no idea who I am, but we actually met on day 1, and then I followed her in the logs as she was always good about writing. And always ahead of me.
Heather Mooney for throwing me the first surprise party of my entire life and giving me some good trinkets before I set out on this wonderful adventure.
The Doyle in Duncannon, every hiker's favorite place to stay.
Basically every person and establishment in Hanover, NH.
And thank you, for sitting there and reading this.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Retro-fitting
Hi all,
I've been adding photos and more info and insights to older posts, and have removed things like old "next mail drop" posts. I'll add a few more (like a big thank you list and a "what I've learned" kind of list) in due time. And I think I'm going to pull the trigger and put photos on facebook, so those who can can see more photos there.
I've been adding photos and more info and insights to older posts, and have removed things like old "next mail drop" posts. I'll add a few more (like a big thank you list and a "what I've learned" kind of list) in due time. And I think I'm going to pull the trigger and put photos on facebook, so those who can can see more photos there.
Monday, November 14, 2011
YAY Done!
All done. 11/14/11: Summited Springer Mtn, Georgia, the Southern Terminus of the Appalachian Trail, 167 days after Mt. Katahdin, Maine. I'll blog more soon, and finally upload some pictures on here, after I get a good meal in me and sleep for 20 hours strait.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
So Close
About 50 miles left. I remember when I, say, crossed from 1000 to 999 miles left. Having only a few miles left is bittersweet, and it's still going to take a few more days. But so far so good.
11/11 5:00pm: 30.6 miles left, 2150.4 done. But I'm done for the day.
11/12 2:00pm: 22.3 miles left, 2158.7 done. Still have 30+ lbs on my back.
11/12 4:30pm: 16.5 miles left, 2164.5 done. I was going to camp here but there are 27 boy scouts.
11/12 5:00pm: 16.2 miles left, 2164.8 done. Last time setting up the tent.
11/13 8:00am: 15.1 miles left, 2165.9 done. Going to have breakfast here, but more Scouts.
11/13 9:00am: 14.3 miles left, 2166.7 done. Breakfast.
11/13 1:00pm: 7.8 miles left, 2173.2 done. Lunch.
11/13 3:00pm: 5.1 miles left, 2175.9 done. Took a sidetrail to a beautiful waterfall.
11/13 4:30pm: 2.8 miles left, 2178.2 done. Done for the night.
11/14 5:00am: 2.8 miles left, 2178.2 done. Met up with my dad.
11/14 9:00am: 0.0 miles left, 2181.0 done. Summited in the rain and snow.
11/14 10:00am-11:30am ran the 9 miles from Springer Mountain shelter to the end of the Amicalola Falls with no bag (or even a shirt) on my back. It felt awesome. And my dad was kind enough to take my bag the mile back to his car on a nearby USFS road. I went from Katahdin to Springer with at least, say, 25 lbs on my back (and upwards of 60 at some points). So it was great to do the optional side trail most Southbounders skip with literally nothing on my back.
11/11 5:00pm: 30.6 miles left, 2150.4 done. But I'm done for the day.
11/12 2:00pm: 22.3 miles left, 2158.7 done. Still have 30+ lbs on my back.
11/12 4:30pm: 16.5 miles left, 2164.5 done. I was going to camp here but there are 27 boy scouts.
11/12 5:00pm: 16.2 miles left, 2164.8 done. Last time setting up the tent.
11/13 8:00am: 15.1 miles left, 2165.9 done. Going to have breakfast here, but more Scouts.
11/13 9:00am: 14.3 miles left, 2166.7 done. Breakfast.
11/13 1:00pm: 7.8 miles left, 2173.2 done. Lunch.
11/13 3:00pm: 5.1 miles left, 2175.9 done. Took a sidetrail to a beautiful waterfall.
11/13 4:30pm: 2.8 miles left, 2178.2 done. Done for the night.
11/14 5:00am: 2.8 miles left, 2178.2 done. Met up with my dad.
11/14 9:00am: 0.0 miles left, 2181.0 done. Summited in the rain and snow.
11/14 10:00am-11:30am ran the 9 miles from Springer Mountain shelter to the end of the Amicalola Falls with no bag (or even a shirt) on my back. It felt awesome. And my dad was kind enough to take my bag the mile back to his car on a nearby USFS road. I went from Katahdin to Springer with at least, say, 25 lbs on my back (and upwards of 60 at some points). So it was great to do the optional side trail most Southbounders skip with literally nothing on my back.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
End the Day
So as I get closer and closer to the end of the trail, it becomes harder and harder to relax at the end of the day. Hiking the miles is "easy" (or at least consistent, almost mundane) but it's telling yourself to stop for the day that's hard. As I've said, some people make the bad decision of turning to tobacco. Others build a fire or listen to an FM radio. Mom would be prouder still to know I've turned to reading lately, and have gone through a dozen books lately. They range from rereading 1984 to the terrible (but guilty sinfully awesome) novelization of "Cowboys & Aliens". I just finished (re)reading "the Alchemist" (thank you sister Brenna), where "The King" asks the protagonist to carry a spoonful of oil while he tours the King's house, and tells him the meaning of life is to enjoy the scenery without losing the oil. A conqueror would tell you that, regardless of the sights you saw or didn't see, losing the spoon's oil is a loss or you somehow failed the game of life by losing the spoon's contents. And a wanderer would tell you, like the little bald monk boy in "The Matrix": There is no Spoon. As usual I attempt to be neither but am occasionally either as I move closer and closer to the end.
This seems like a good spot to tack on my all time favorite "tags", another way to pass the time at the end of the day.
1. "Cash Rules Everything Around Me C.R.E.A.M. Dollar Dollar Bill Ya'll"
(A Reference to the Wu Tang Clan). I actually have a video of it, but the file is apparently too large to upload on here. But I have photos of all the others.
2. "The Cake is a Lie"
(A Reference to the videogame Portal)
3. "Tom Marvolo Riddle" (+Deathly Hallows Symbol)
(A Reference to Harry Potter)
4. "Infinity Times Marijuana Plus Pi Equals Jesus Upsidedown Question Mark"
Self-explanatory.
5. A sign that says "No Sign".
This seems like a good spot to tack on my all time favorite "tags", another way to pass the time at the end of the day.
1. "Cash Rules Everything Around Me C.R.E.A.M. Dollar Dollar Bill Ya'll"
(A Reference to the Wu Tang Clan). I actually have a video of it, but the file is apparently too large to upload on here. But I have photos of all the others.
2. "The Cake is a Lie"
(A Reference to the videogame Portal)
3. "Tom Marvolo Riddle" (+Deathly Hallows Symbol)
(A Reference to Harry Potter)
4. "Infinity Times Marijuana Plus Pi Equals Jesus Upsidedown Question Mark"
Self-explanatory.
5. A sign that says "No Sign".
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Final Mail Drop
My final maildrop will actually be off the trail, but it's where I'll go to immediately after finishing. And I'll be there through Thanksgiving, where I can properly post some pictures and such on here:
Cameron Bynum
2561 Lake Flair Cir NE
Atlanta, GA 30345
per Jenn's request.
Cameron Bynum
2561 Lake Flair Cir NE
Atlanta, GA 30345
per Jenn's request.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
More on Diet
So hikers eat the same foods over and over again. Next time you're at the grocery store, try shopping like a hiker: Nothing perishable, nothing bulky, nothing heavy, nothing that requires a refrigerator, freezer, microwave, oven, or toaster. If it's more than one serving its packaging has to be resealable. And nothing that can get "smushed". What you're left with is the diet of a diabetic: cookie, chips, peanut butter. Which is reinforced by the fact that some of your "grocery stores" are just gas stations with gas station food anyway. Once you've bought it all, carry every scrap with you for the next week, including all the trash, even from the first meal (unless you smartly eat a bunch of food in the parking lot). As I've mentioned you burn about 3xit the average daily calorie intake, so hikers often have the appetite of a stoned anorexic.
Men typically lose about 20-30 lbs on a thru hike. My favorite part of preparing for this trip was the couple weeks leading up to my hike where I...sat around and gained 20 lbs. The day I started was the most I've ever weighed in my life (195 lbs). At one point in this hike I had lost as many as 35 lbs (down to 160) but I've gained about 10 lbs in the last month or so and overall I'm about 5 lbs less than what I weighed 6 months ago (and in the middle of the range I've been in for a few years, between 165-180.
Men hold excess weight around their belly (apple-shaped), and that fat gets burned away in a hike. But your abs aren't really used hiking, so the only 6-packs you'll find on hikers are preexisting ones. Women, on the other hand, do not lose any weight. They gain a little if anything. This is because women tend to hold excess weight in their butt, hips, and thighs (pear-shaped). And those muscles ARE used in hiking, so fat is not just cut away but turned into muscle, which is of course denser. This is all just my theory, and there are exceptions. One of my fellow (male) hikers has lost over 50 lbs, while another (male) has miraculously gained about 15 lbs. But my appetite has somewhat settled down (Half Gallon Challenge Notwithstanding) since the beginning, as this caloric intake and consumption rate has long become my body's norm.
Anyone who thinks a thru hiker eats a very organic diet is mistaken. We are stuck with far too many processed foods, out of geographic isolation and caloric need.
Some Typical Meals:
1) Generic Captain Crunch and Nutella in a Tortilla.
2) Smushed Bananas and Peanut Butter, on Smushed Bread.
3) Chia Seeds, Lentils, and Peanut Butter.
4) Half a Gallon of Ice Cream.
I recommend absolutely none of these meals.
Men typically lose about 20-30 lbs on a thru hike. My favorite part of preparing for this trip was the couple weeks leading up to my hike where I...sat around and gained 20 lbs. The day I started was the most I've ever weighed in my life (195 lbs). At one point in this hike I had lost as many as 35 lbs (down to 160) but I've gained about 10 lbs in the last month or so and overall I'm about 5 lbs less than what I weighed 6 months ago (and in the middle of the range I've been in for a few years, between 165-180.
Men hold excess weight around their belly (apple-shaped), and that fat gets burned away in a hike. But your abs aren't really used hiking, so the only 6-packs you'll find on hikers are preexisting ones. Women, on the other hand, do not lose any weight. They gain a little if anything. This is because women tend to hold excess weight in their butt, hips, and thighs (pear-shaped). And those muscles ARE used in hiking, so fat is not just cut away but turned into muscle, which is of course denser. This is all just my theory, and there are exceptions. One of my fellow (male) hikers has lost over 50 lbs, while another (male) has miraculously gained about 15 lbs. But my appetite has somewhat settled down (Half Gallon Challenge Notwithstanding) since the beginning, as this caloric intake and consumption rate has long become my body's norm.
Anyone who thinks a thru hiker eats a very organic diet is mistaken. We are stuck with far too many processed foods, out of geographic isolation and caloric need.
Some Typical Meals:
1) Generic Captain Crunch and Nutella in a Tortilla.
2) Smushed Bananas and Peanut Butter, on Smushed Bread.
3) Chia Seeds, Lentils, and Peanut Butter.
4) Half a Gallon of Ice Cream.
I recommend absolutely none of these meals.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Russian Dolls
So as I mentioned in the last post, I'm well over halfway. I'm even finally out of Virginia, after spending Lent there (about 40 days). If you look at a map of the AT and I've done this crazy distance with only this tiny bit yet to go.
Have you ever gone and seen a 3-hour movie in the theater? It's great, but towards the end you get a little squirmy and shift in your chair and maybe sneak a look at your watch. You're not remotely considering leaving the theater before the movie ends, but you want them to wrap things up already. Dragon's slain, princess's rescued. Let's happily ever after and get those credits rolling already.
Right, that feeling lasts, what, 10 minutes? I'll even say 30. While I'm pretty much just about all done I still have a month to go and 500 miles to walk. Do you know what it's like to hike 500 miles? I do, and it's not always fun. Especially when I wake up with everything soaked, hike about 16 miles on the day, 14-15 of which were uphill, and then give up on getting to the shelter that would have been 18 miles for the day, pitch my tent in the rain (never fun) and do it all again tomorrow. The problem is we know what these remaining weeks are going to be like. We know exactly because we've been hiking for 4 1/2 months. And if you do that you have a pretty good idea of what it's like to hike 5 1/2 months. And you don't want to do it. The novelty has worn off, and you all too familiar with the lifestyle. Worst of all the only reason you're still going forward is to be able to tell people later that you hiked the whole thing, rather than 90% and then you stopped because you got the gist of it. It is incredibly difficult to motivate yourself to do something when your only motivation is to talk about it later. Because that's a BS reason to do something. Earlier today a fellow hiker broke down literally crying (I won't name names). I had to give him a gooud long reassuring hug as he groaned/sobbed "I hate hiking I'm so sick of it" etc. We passed a very bleak gravestone today. We've passed a few cemeteries along the AT but this marker was fittingly alone: Mr Grindstaff (I forgot his first name), 1840-1890(ish). And on his tombstone, the man's life was summed up thusly: "he lived alone, he suffered alone, he died alone." Seriously. Incredibly bleak and macabre stuff. And the tears were before that.
All this said I still have some fun times and enjoyed going through a cow paster today. But, mentally, these are the hardest miles of the whole trip.
Have you ever gone and seen a 3-hour movie in the theater? It's great, but towards the end you get a little squirmy and shift in your chair and maybe sneak a look at your watch. You're not remotely considering leaving the theater before the movie ends, but you want them to wrap things up already. Dragon's slain, princess's rescued. Let's happily ever after and get those credits rolling already.
Right, that feeling lasts, what, 10 minutes? I'll even say 30. While I'm pretty much just about all done I still have a month to go and 500 miles to walk. Do you know what it's like to hike 500 miles? I do, and it's not always fun. Especially when I wake up with everything soaked, hike about 16 miles on the day, 14-15 of which were uphill, and then give up on getting to the shelter that would have been 18 miles for the day, pitch my tent in the rain (never fun) and do it all again tomorrow. The problem is we know what these remaining weeks are going to be like. We know exactly because we've been hiking for 4 1/2 months. And if you do that you have a pretty good idea of what it's like to hike 5 1/2 months. And you don't want to do it. The novelty has worn off, and you all too familiar with the lifestyle. Worst of all the only reason you're still going forward is to be able to tell people later that you hiked the whole thing, rather than 90% and then you stopped because you got the gist of it. It is incredibly difficult to motivate yourself to do something when your only motivation is to talk about it later. Because that's a BS reason to do something. Earlier today a fellow hiker broke down literally crying (I won't name names). I had to give him a gooud long reassuring hug as he groaned/sobbed "I hate hiking I'm so sick of it" etc. We passed a very bleak gravestone today. We've passed a few cemeteries along the AT but this marker was fittingly alone: Mr Grindstaff (I forgot his first name), 1840-1890(ish). And on his tombstone, the man's life was summed up thusly: "he lived alone, he suffered alone, he died alone." Seriously. Incredibly bleak and macabre stuff. And the tears were before that.
All this said I still have some fun times and enjoyed going through a cow paster today. But, mentally, these are the hardest miles of the whole trip.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Rank, Order, & the Train
So, 4 months into it, I know who the other Sobos are. We all move along, and the people around me are like people in the same compartment of a train as we hike South. Want to see what the people ahead of you are up to? Just push hard and hike a long day, and you'll be in the next "train compartment". Sick of those people? Take a slow day or a day off, and you'll see all the people in that other car again. Whenever I take a day, I'll get back to the trail and discover those great guys I haven't seen since Connecticut. I didn't think I'd see them again, but they knew they'd been gaining on me for weeks. Likewise I know everything about the people in front of me, and nothing about those behind me. This is part of why some people want to get to the front of the train, as if that somehow makes them the conductor of the train. These competitive conquerors think that finishing the trail first makes them the best hiker. There is no ranking out here, and the guy who sprinted through everything missed some of the finer things, and end up with the shortest vacation. A 10 mile day out here is better than any day at work. A 25 mile day is not. I've done big-mile days, but they suck. They're the days you hike all day long, and do nothing else. I like getting sidetracked by towns or conversations or natural wonders. And at this point, a lot of people are trying to push to finish by a certain date. Not me. I'm going to still enjoy every day and (gasp!) finish a week or two after all these people who are sick of the trail and are just wanting to finish.
We're at that funky spot where we're well over over halfway, but still have a long way to go. To quote Julia, the person who inspired me to do this thru hike: "I was past the 1/2 way point, and my psyche shifted. That happens to me in almost all things - whether I'm reading a novel, writing a paper, in a tough work-out, or even on a vacation. The second half is less easy to hold onto one's in-the-moment-zen thing." All the other hikers I've been talking to are all talking about what they have to average to finish by certain dates, and what they're going to do after being done with the trail. But they still have a month to go (and I have roughly 6 weeks), and that's a lot of time to just look forward to the next thing, since this one is almost done. But I'm rejecting that, and even though it means I'll be closer to the Caboose, I'll be having a better time, and stop and smell the flowers. That's part of the point of a thru hike. If I was in that big of a hurry, I'd just drive to Georgia.
We're at that funky spot where we're well over over halfway, but still have a long way to go. To quote Julia, the person who inspired me to do this thru hike: "I was past the 1/2 way point, and my psyche shifted. That happens to me in almost all things - whether I'm reading a novel, writing a paper, in a tough work-out, or even on a vacation. The second half is less easy to hold onto one's in-the-moment-zen thing." All the other hikers I've been talking to are all talking about what they have to average to finish by certain dates, and what they're going to do after being done with the trail. But they still have a month to go (and I have roughly 6 weeks), and that's a lot of time to just look forward to the next thing, since this one is almost done. But I'm rejecting that, and even though it means I'll be closer to the Caboose, I'll be having a better time, and stop and smell the flowers. That's part of the point of a thru hike. If I was in that big of a hurry, I'd just drive to Georgia.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Shenadoahs
So as I mentioned in the last post, Virginia goes on forever. But it's broken up into different sections. The first bit was the last of my deja Vu, and then I entered Shenadoah National Park, a rather narrow mountain range that stretches for ~75-100 miles. It was great for wildlife. I saw 12-15 bears, 10,000 deer, some rabbits and turkeys, plus all the usuals. And even though it's wild by a lot of people's standards, there are actually a few waysides (basically gas stations) along the way, as the trail weaves past Skyline Drive, so I didn't have to carry as much food, or had to carry my trash as long, and only had to filter water from creeks once or twice the whole time, as they had running water too. Talk about luxury.
A week or two after the Shenadoahs I got an even more luxurious treat. I went and visited Nicole, a girl I have long-standing feelings for. And that affection is at least somewhat reciprocated, as she was willing to drive a couple hours to come pick me up, and gave me a bed to sleep in and some good food and she showed me around her town in, get this, a car! Plus I got a few showers and a load of laundry, though that was more for her benefit than mine. Nicole works a tough shift at the hospital (she luckily wasn't on call the weekend I came, and I was able to spend a solid 48 hours with her, from Friday evening to Sunday evening. That was best from her schedule, of course, as hikers have no idea what day of the week it is, since we have no weekends. Usually good on the date though (today is Sep 20, day 112 of my trip). Nicole works a job where you really shouldn't go to the restroom, as you then have to thoroughly rescrub before returning to surgery or whatever. I was in a condition where, despite the cold and somewhat rainy weather, we had to drive with the windows down, and my smell really lingered in her house, even after multiple showers. Not exactly the best condition to see someone you have a crush on, and the weekend might have been two steps forward, one step back with her. But that's still positive. I'll make sure to be cleanshaven and superclean and wearing a tuxedo the next time I see her, and she'll forget about that dirty hairy smelly version of me that showed up while I was hiking the trail. About 2/3 of the way done with the whole trail. Yay.
A week or two after the Shenadoahs I got an even more luxurious treat. I went and visited Nicole, a girl I have long-standing feelings for. And that affection is at least somewhat reciprocated, as she was willing to drive a couple hours to come pick me up, and gave me a bed to sleep in and some good food and she showed me around her town in, get this, a car! Plus I got a few showers and a load of laundry, though that was more for her benefit than mine. Nicole works a tough shift at the hospital (she luckily wasn't on call the weekend I came, and I was able to spend a solid 48 hours with her, from Friday evening to Sunday evening. That was best from her schedule, of course, as hikers have no idea what day of the week it is, since we have no weekends. Usually good on the date though (today is Sep 20, day 112 of my trip). Nicole works a job where you really shouldn't go to the restroom, as you then have to thoroughly rescrub before returning to surgery or whatever. I was in a condition where, despite the cold and somewhat rainy weather, we had to drive with the windows down, and my smell really lingered in her house, even after multiple showers. Not exactly the best condition to see someone you have a crush on, and the weekend might have been two steps forward, one step back with her. But that's still positive. I'll make sure to be cleanshaven and superclean and wearing a tuxedo the next time I see her, and she'll forget about that dirty hairy smelly version of me that showed up while I was hiking the trail. About 2/3 of the way done with the whole trail. Yay.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Deja Vu
I've spent the last ~2 weeks repeating the section of the trail I did last summer, although in the opposite direction from how I went before, so I'm remembering everything in reverse order of how I did it. And as much as I dislike the Conquerors who race through areas, I'd purposely planned to cruise through here, since I'd already done it. I have occasionally stopped to say "oh my god, I remember camping here!" pointing at a random patch of ground, but for the most part I have skipped viewpoints and such and done some of my highest (mileage) days. But now I'm entering Virginia. If you add the miles of ME and PA together (the 2nd- and 3rd-longest states, respectively)you get less than Virginia. I never knew it was that large of a state. The AT goes all the way down the panhandle of VA, and with switchbacks and such it's well over 500 miles, or over 1/4 of the whole trail. So I'll be here for a month. Great.
Food and Hunger
Hikers typically burn around 6,000 calories a day, or approximately 3x the average daily human intake. This leads to an unsatisfiable appetite that's a stoned anorexic's dream. You can eat whatever you want and you're hungry again a few minutes later. Some hikers (and some of the towns along the trail) reinforce this, and there are a lot of food challenges, like "eat the whole pizza and it's free". I've passed on most of these, but did do the one that is most famous among the hiker community: the Half Gallon Challenge. At a small store almost exactly halfway through the entire AT (in Southern PA)hikers can celebrate completing half of their journey by eating a half gallon of ice cream. It's over 3,000 calories (or again 1.5x what most people eat in an entire day) and I ate it in 34 minutes. And was hungry again and ate some peanuts within an hour after finishing it. It was actually great fuel and I did one of my highest (miles) days the day I ate it.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Random Story
I realize how tall I am in a way I haven't felt since middle school. If you are first to leave camp (and therefor first to walk that particular section for the day) you get the benefit of an early start and a nice worm in the form of spider webs. Many of which, two feet from the trail, stay up for weeks. But those foolish spiders who, every night, don't learn their lesson and continue to make straw houses that can be destroyed by the hair on a hiker's chinny chin chin. And my chinny chin chin clears the way for fellow hikers. The reverse, however, is sadly not true. If someone else goes first my path is not cleared. It is not swarming with cobwebs but that just lulls me into a false sense of security. I don't even expect it when WHAM I'm hit in the face like clingwrap in Joe Pesci's face in Home Alone. I ~freneh freneh freneh~ my way along, muttering it to myself like Pesci and invariably convinced the spider hopped into my clothing somewhere as I wriggle about. Oh yeah, and it's pouring down rain this whole time too.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Some more States
Whew. Sorry I kind of vented on the last one, it was mainly a reaction to one specific encounter with just about the last Northbounder. And all of a sudden I've had shelters to myself, for what feels like the first time since Maine.
Only one thing changed when I moved from MA to CT. The dayhikers had Yankees hats on instead of Red Sox. Conn also had some of the flattest sections of the AT. I'm actually not as good at cruising through these spots as other hikers. You can shift up into a higher gear on the flat and easy ground, and you can do some big mile days. To do the most miles you need to be cold, calculating, and somewhat disengaged. Being a conqueror helps, but it's even better to be almost inhuman, like a Terminator or Cyclon. Normal hiking is usually about 2 mph, and if you're hiking very fast you can get up to 3 mph. But on this kind of terrain you can even reach the superhuman speed of 4 mph. But there's no way I (or anyone) can maintain that speed all day. But when I was hiking in Maine I would hike all day long and do 12 miles. Now I do that before noon and find myself bored with nothing to do after cruising through 20 miles in just 7-8 hours.But it's all about pacing. Doing 20 miles in a day is easy. Doing 40 in two is harder, and 60 in 3 is even harder, and et cetera.
New Jersey was surprisingly my favorite in a while. I had the misconception that it'd just be suburbs of NYC like Conneticut. I forgot that it's the Garden State, and it was quite nice. I told the State I wouldn't judge it solely on Jersey Shore, as long as it didn't judge me solely on Reno 911. I have had my Nevadan pride renewed on this trip, and it's been my ongoing campaign (and, alas, it's been kinda a war of attrition) to get people to correctly pronounce Nevâda.
Only one thing changed when I moved from MA to CT. The dayhikers had Yankees hats on instead of Red Sox. Conn also had some of the flattest sections of the AT. I'm actually not as good at cruising through these spots as other hikers. You can shift up into a higher gear on the flat and easy ground, and you can do some big mile days. To do the most miles you need to be cold, calculating, and somewhat disengaged. Being a conqueror helps, but it's even better to be almost inhuman, like a Terminator or Cyclon. Normal hiking is usually about 2 mph, and if you're hiking very fast you can get up to 3 mph. But on this kind of terrain you can even reach the superhuman speed of 4 mph. But there's no way I (or anyone) can maintain that speed all day. But when I was hiking in Maine I would hike all day long and do 12 miles. Now I do that before noon and find myself bored with nothing to do after cruising through 20 miles in just 7-8 hours.But it's all about pacing. Doing 20 miles in a day is easy. Doing 40 in two is harder, and 60 in 3 is even harder, and et cetera.
New Jersey was surprisingly my favorite in a while. I had the misconception that it'd just be suburbs of NYC like Conneticut. I forgot that it's the Garden State, and it was quite nice. I told the State I wouldn't judge it solely on Jersey Shore, as long as it didn't judge me solely on Reno 911. I have had my Nevadan pride renewed on this trip, and it's been my ongoing campaign (and, alas, it's been kinda a war of attrition) to get people to correctly pronounce Nevâda.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Methods
A thru hike is interesting because there are several ways to do it. It's a term officially used to describe someone who walks the whole trail in a single season. You can do it northbound, southbound, flip flop (middle to the north and then middle to the south, or something similar). Some people even do what they call a thru hike over two calendar years, but under 365 days. But the methods people use through their hike mean more than what direction they're going. The AT is marked with white blazes, and purists walk every step on that trail. Some will take a blue-blazed trail, which are various side trails. Actually all take blueblazed trails, even if it's to a water source and then back to all the whites. Some take the "yellow blazed" trail, roads, and cheat a bit. Many people "slackpack" which is having someone else carry (drive or hold) your stuff while you crank out a few miles with, say, only a water bottle as opposed to your 40 lbs of gear. Many hikers are scandalized by other hikers' actions. The point is, by somebody's rules, you've cheated. And by someone else's you haven't. There's no rulebook saying what is or isn't allowed to call yourself a thru hiker. It's all an honor system, and no two honor codes are identical. The trail is significantly different (read: easier) if you have unlimited resources. This is the East Coast we're talking about, and the trail is more a tour of small town Americana than it is "the wilderness". You can do fairly well going hotel to hotel and restaurant to restaurant, especially if you have a faithful friend or spouse to drive you around in a car. I have been walking through 5 different states since the last time I was even in a car, or any other train, plane, or automobiones. I got a ride back from a town in MA, then walked the rest of it, CT, NY, NJ, and am now in PA and haven't even hitched into town. I walked off the trail to the close ones. This couldn't have been done, in my opinion, in Maine, where the towns are so few and then it's several miles from the road crossing to the actual town, where dammed near everyone hitches or gets a prearranged ride to town. As far as I know, no one has thru hiked without at least using a car on a sidetrail to resupply, even if they still walk every white blaze. Again, by someone's rules you've cheated. I haven't paid for lodging since the day after I crossed my first state line, from ME to NH, back in June (Full Disclosure: I've stayed with friends, which is even better than a hotel). Hoteling can change the experience, obviously. But the common expression here is "hike your own hike" and I have and do plenty of things others look down their noses at (21st century titanium pot, safety meetings, mail drops). I really dislike slackpacking but I have mailed things to and from people, which is arguably the same thing (although my retort is that I don't mail it to myself farther down the trail to alleviate weight).
All this comes from where I am in relationship to Northbounders at the moment. I'll do another post later about the locals and the terrain lately but I'm reaching the end of the traffic going the other way. The stragglers I see now are the Nobos who have just partied and yellowblazed their way along so far, and frankly won't make it to Katahdin (northern terminus in Maine) before it closes for the season, usually around October 15. I had heard the AT was more of a party thing than a wilderness trip before, and starting Northbound in March/April is, as there are 15 people in each campsite every night, usually drinking, smoking, etc. Most drop out within a few days, or weeks. Really, the yahoos I'm seeing now are at least dedicated enough to get this far. But asked what insightful lessons about life were learned in their time in the woods, the reply is vague, or if truthful it's "nothing philosophical, I just learned how to do a lot of drugs". This yahooification (definitely also my own term) is also a lamentable byproduct of Burning Man, which a lot of my friends are now prepping for and is in many ways an AT thru hike sped up and compacted into a single week. In both you have the good and bad of a world with no rules, where people help each other in ways that renew your faith in humanity and which seems to come at a cost that's difficult to describe but is painfully obvious from certain perspectives. It kills me that every privy has posted somewhere "please do not throw plastic, cans, or other trash in the toliet."
All this comes from where I am in relationship to Northbounders at the moment. I'll do another post later about the locals and the terrain lately but I'm reaching the end of the traffic going the other way. The stragglers I see now are the Nobos who have just partied and yellowblazed their way along so far, and frankly won't make it to Katahdin (northern terminus in Maine) before it closes for the season, usually around October 15. I had heard the AT was more of a party thing than a wilderness trip before, and starting Northbound in March/April is, as there are 15 people in each campsite every night, usually drinking, smoking, etc. Most drop out within a few days, or weeks. Really, the yahoos I'm seeing now are at least dedicated enough to get this far. But asked what insightful lessons about life were learned in their time in the woods, the reply is vague, or if truthful it's "nothing philosophical, I just learned how to do a lot of drugs". This yahooification (definitely also my own term) is also a lamentable byproduct of Burning Man, which a lot of my friends are now prepping for and is in many ways an AT thru hike sped up and compacted into a single week. In both you have the good and bad of a world with no rules, where people help each other in ways that renew your faith in humanity and which seems to come at a cost that's difficult to describe but is painfully obvious from certain perspectives. It kills me that every privy has posted somewhere "please do not throw plastic, cans, or other trash in the toliet."
7 States Down, 7 States to Go
Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey are under my belt, with Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, Virginia, Tennessee, North Carolina and Georgia remain. The actual halfway point is still 200 miles from here, but I'm pretty excited to reach PA. I'll write more the next time I'm at a proper computer.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
More on People Who Hike the Trail
The median age is supposedly 47, though the distribution is more of a dumbbell shape than a standard bell curve, as everyone is either 25 or 65. Naturally, these are the most common times in people's lives where they can devote 4-6 months to a hike, having just graduated or just retired. They're 90% men and 90% white. But I did meet a black female thru hiker yesterday, so they're out there.
"Hey have you seen my friend? His name is Tom/Tim/Jim/John/Joe/Jeff/Whatever, he's about 6' tall, white male with a beard and a backpack." Umm, that describes 90% of the people I've seen the last few months, so you'll have to be more specific. "Have you seen my friends Space Cowboy, Duff Man, and Sundowner?" Oh yes I saw them the day before yesterday. Thus trail names.
Trail names work kind of like email addresses. You pick something, and even if it's kind of silly like StarCore5 or MixMasterMike446, you're sort of stuck with it thereafter. And most people believe you have to be given your trail name by someone else. But it's easier to remember goofy trail names than interchangeable unoriginal white male American proper names. And there's usually a fun story to tell in association with your trail name. The 3 above are all real examples. Space Cowboy was of course caught singing "The Joker" at the top of his lungs when he thought he was alone, Duff Man hikes with a large Dufflebag (and likes the Simpsons and beer), and Sundowner infamously arrives at camp very late, usually at, yes, Sundown.
You rarely call people by their trail name directly, just like their email address. They're used for distinguishing people and for tracking them in the logs. Most of the shelters of a simple notebook, full of no-nonsense entries " 8/2/11: Jaws and Dragonfly, in for lunch", random ruminations, advice/reports "No Water at the Next Shelter! Fill up here" and the types of innate conversations you find in online forums. Though "conversation" isn't the right word, since you can only read the entries of the people ahead of you, and only write to the people behind you. Which is fascinating for a Communication scholar such as myself. Someone might be perpetually a day behind you and you don't know they exist, but the person perpetually ahead of you you feel like you know very well, but they might not know you exist. It's also fun to meet someone going the other way (in my case, a Northbounder, as I'm going South. And most thru-hikers are Northbounders), talk to them for 5 mintues, and then see their experience in reverse order as you read through the logs. I met someone a month ago 400 miles north of here, and he was here 2 months ago. Good stuff.
"Hey have you seen my friend? His name is Tom/Tim/Jim/John/Joe/Jeff/Whatever, he's about 6' tall, white male with a beard and a backpack." Umm, that describes 90% of the people I've seen the last few months, so you'll have to be more specific. "Have you seen my friends Space Cowboy, Duff Man, and Sundowner?" Oh yes I saw them the day before yesterday. Thus trail names.
Trail names work kind of like email addresses. You pick something, and even if it's kind of silly like StarCore5 or MixMasterMike446, you're sort of stuck with it thereafter. And most people believe you have to be given your trail name by someone else. But it's easier to remember goofy trail names than interchangeable unoriginal white male American proper names. And there's usually a fun story to tell in association with your trail name. The 3 above are all real examples. Space Cowboy was of course caught singing "The Joker" at the top of his lungs when he thought he was alone, Duff Man hikes with a large Dufflebag (and likes the Simpsons and beer), and Sundowner infamously arrives at camp very late, usually at, yes, Sundown.
You rarely call people by their trail name directly, just like their email address. They're used for distinguishing people and for tracking them in the logs. Most of the shelters of a simple notebook, full of no-nonsense entries " 8/2/11: Jaws and Dragonfly, in for lunch", random ruminations, advice/reports "No Water at the Next Shelter! Fill up here" and the types of innate conversations you find in online forums. Though "conversation" isn't the right word, since you can only read the entries of the people ahead of you, and only write to the people behind you. Which is fascinating for a Communication scholar such as myself. Someone might be perpetually a day behind you and you don't know they exist, but the person perpetually ahead of you you feel like you know very well, but they might not know you exist. It's also fun to meet someone going the other way (in my case, a Northbounder, as I'm going South. And most thru-hikers are Northbounders), talk to them for 5 mintues, and then see their experience in reverse order as you read through the logs. I met someone a month ago 400 miles north of here, and he was here 2 months ago. Good stuff.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Leisure Time
I have a good friend who lives in Southern Vermont, and my dad decided to take a somewhat spontaneous trip (those who know him shouldn't be surprised) to come visit me in Massachusetts, where a couple of very hospitable friends of his took the pair of us in. It was unfortunate that my two holidays were back to back, and I've only averaged like 5 miles a day over the last 2 weeks, which includes 8 nonconsecutive zero days. This has helped reinforce the idea that this is not a race, and the people I was hiking with are now several days ahead of me and I likely won't see them again. It's also renewed my liking of the trail, and I've been better at stopping at the viewpoints and sidetrails, which I was starting to skip more and more as the terrain has gotten easier and will continue to for the next few states. Maine and New Hampshire, while only 20% of the mileage of the A.T., are 80% of the overall elevation change. So it's flater, although still not a walk in the park. Well, sometimes it is literally a walk in the park, as the trail often cuts through parks, but that's besides the point.
Yesterday I crossed the border from Vermont to Massachusetts. 3 States down, 11 to go.
It's not a race. And I was undeniably more comfortable with my dad here with a car and these fancy roofs and porcelain toliets. But now, to get to my dad's house by Thanksgiving, I have to average 15 miles a day. Before he decided to visit it was 13 miles a day. For 4 months. And if I hike 15 miles a day, and then take a day off every four days, it will take me 5 months. But again this is the thinking that leads me to higher mileage days and I miss figureatively and literally stopping and smelling the flowers. If I was in that big of a hurry, I'd just fly to Georgia. This experience isn't about the destination. The difference between "traveling" and "commuting" is if you want to be on the move, or if you're just trying to get to your destination. I'm traveling along this trail, not commuting.
Yesterday I crossed the border from Vermont to Massachusetts. 3 States down, 11 to go.
It's not a race. And I was undeniably more comfortable with my dad here with a car and these fancy roofs and porcelain toliets. But now, to get to my dad's house by Thanksgiving, I have to average 15 miles a day. Before he decided to visit it was 13 miles a day. For 4 months. And if I hike 15 miles a day, and then take a day off every four days, it will take me 5 months. But again this is the thinking that leads me to higher mileage days and I miss figureatively and literally stopping and smelling the flowers. If I was in that big of a hurry, I'd just fly to Georgia. This experience isn't about the destination. The difference between "traveling" and "commuting" is if you want to be on the move, or if you're just trying to get to your destination. I'm traveling along this trail, not commuting.
Monday, July 18, 2011
The People Who Hike the Trail
Thru-hiking the entire Appalachian Trail attracts a couple specific types of people, and most will turn into a couple specific types by the time they're finished.
First off there are the "conquerors" (my own term). They are trying to, ahem, conqueror the trail. They're usually trying to do the trail as efficiently as possible, and are usually obsessed with their average miles a day and the logistics and resupplying. The food they're carrying will be marked with, for example, "Thursday Dinner" and their small-talk with other hikers consists of analysis of differences in gear and where the best resupply points are.
Second are "wanderers" (also my term). They're more likely to go to a town, not just for the logical reason of resupplying, but also to hit up a tourist attraction or find some sort of underground music scene or something. They can be your typical transient hippie, or maybe someone mulling something over, like a recent divorce or election to a political seat in South Carolina. These people literally and figuratively stop and smell the flowers. The easiest way to distinguish between a conqueror and wanderer is if they wear a watch. Some love to go the whole hike without ever having to wake up to an alarm, some are happy to say it only took them __ days, as opposed to __+1 days. To each his own. "Hike your own hike" is a common saying.
There's a lot of other sayings and inside-baseball vocab words. "Thru" hiker means you're doing the entire trail, as opposed to a "section" hike. If someone spends 5 months and hikes from Georgia to Conneticut is a section hiker. Someone who spends 4 months and hikes the entire trail is a thru hiker. Most hike Northbound (from Georgia to Maine), and they're known as "Nobos" or "GAMEs". As someone hiking southbound, I'm known as a "Sobo" or "Mega". (MEGA = Me->Ga Maine to Georgia. GAMErs follow the same logic).
There's 10,000 other terms for the ways people classify other hikers and terrain and other aspects of the hike. But that's one of the (arguable) problems, that people create labels for one another. Almost every thru-hiker becomes at least somewhat arrogant, and tend to look down on day/weekend/section hikers, or even people thru-hiking Vermont's Long Trail (which takes a couple weeks and a little more than 100 miles of it overlap the AT). Thru-hikers also inevitably become control freaks, due in no small part to the reality that they do control almost everything (as I mentioned in my last post, only I am forcing myself to keep going). But I've met some really great people. I've been selflessly given food more in the last month than any other part of my life. After the established work-for-stay structure in the Whites, it's been fun to unofficially work for stay. I just randomly met a sweet "young" lady, who put me up in her house and cooked me breakfast, and all I did was help her change a lightbulb and switch the batteries in her smoke detectors (she had chores for a tall person). Food, bed and a shower was all I needed, and if you've ever had dying smoke detectors, you know that she felt like she won out on the deal. So it was win-win between us. Yesterday I helped paint a porch, and I did some vacuuming carpet-cleaning today. It's nice to day-labor my way along, despite having a Graduate degree. The whole point is to slow down and enjoy the little things.
First off there are the "conquerors" (my own term). They are trying to, ahem, conqueror the trail. They're usually trying to do the trail as efficiently as possible, and are usually obsessed with their average miles a day and the logistics and resupplying. The food they're carrying will be marked with, for example, "Thursday Dinner" and their small-talk with other hikers consists of analysis of differences in gear and where the best resupply points are.
Second are "wanderers" (also my term). They're more likely to go to a town, not just for the logical reason of resupplying, but also to hit up a tourist attraction or find some sort of underground music scene or something. They can be your typical transient hippie, or maybe someone mulling something over, like a recent divorce or election to a political seat in South Carolina. These people literally and figuratively stop and smell the flowers. The easiest way to distinguish between a conqueror and wanderer is if they wear a watch. Some love to go the whole hike without ever having to wake up to an alarm, some are happy to say it only took them __ days, as opposed to __+1 days. To each his own. "Hike your own hike" is a common saying.
There's a lot of other sayings and inside-baseball vocab words. "Thru" hiker means you're doing the entire trail, as opposed to a "section" hike. If someone spends 5 months and hikes from Georgia to Conneticut is a section hiker. Someone who spends 4 months and hikes the entire trail is a thru hiker. Most hike Northbound (from Georgia to Maine), and they're known as "Nobos" or "GAMEs". As someone hiking southbound, I'm known as a "Sobo" or "Mega". (MEGA = Me->Ga Maine to Georgia. GAMErs follow the same logic).
There's 10,000 other terms for the ways people classify other hikers and terrain and other aspects of the hike. But that's one of the (arguable) problems, that people create labels for one another. Almost every thru-hiker becomes at least somewhat arrogant, and tend to look down on day/weekend/section hikers, or even people thru-hiking Vermont's Long Trail (which takes a couple weeks and a little more than 100 miles of it overlap the AT). Thru-hikers also inevitably become control freaks, due in no small part to the reality that they do control almost everything (as I mentioned in my last post, only I am forcing myself to keep going). But I've met some really great people. I've been selflessly given food more in the last month than any other part of my life. After the established work-for-stay structure in the Whites, it's been fun to unofficially work for stay. I just randomly met a sweet "young" lady, who put me up in her house and cooked me breakfast, and all I did was help her change a lightbulb and switch the batteries in her smoke detectors (she had chores for a tall person). Food, bed and a shower was all I needed, and if you've ever had dying smoke detectors, you know that she felt like she won out on the deal. So it was win-win between us. Yesterday I helped paint a porch, and I did some vacuuming carpet-cleaning today. It's nice to day-labor my way along, despite having a Graduate degree. The whole point is to slow down and enjoy the little things.
Next Mail Drop
Cameron Bynum
c/o General Delivery
Dalton, MA 01226
Please Hold for Thru-Hiker
Estimated Date of Arrival: 7/28/11
c/o General Delivery
Dalton, MA 01226
Please Hold for Thru-Hiker
Estimated Date of Arrival: 7/28/11
Vermont
After slowing down and working the system through the huts in New Hampshire's White Mountains, I hit terrain I had almost forgotten existed: relatively easier terrain. Although there are still mountains in Western New Hampshire and Vermont, they are the rolling Green Mountains. They're not universally easier. For example, I sweated a lot more as they were more muggy (hello mosquitoes, I did not miss you), plus it's been hotter the last week or two, but I was able to actually hike in a "higher gear". To all of you who drive, it may not seem like much of a difference to travel at 2 mph or 3 mph, but the difference is huge in hiking. The day I left the Whites was the highest mileage I've done yet, breaking 20 miles in a day for the first time. I actually did 40 miles in 40 hours (despite sleeping for 8 of those hours, and cooking and eating and hand-pumping water from creeks every time I was thirsty, which is all the time).
But I've slowed down the last few days. Just because you CAN go faster doesn't mean you should (I could just get on a plane and fly to Georgia in 2 hours if I was in that much of a hurry). Most of the locals I've talked to have similar assestments. SLOW DOWN they say. The whole point of the trail is to stop and notice the little things you'd miss if you were just "commuting" through an area. Julia taught me long ago that it's not a race, and it's good to remind myself that the only thing that's forcing me to do this is myself, and I can slow down or even stop completely whenever I want. But, that said, I have full intentions to go the full distance, and even though I've done only 20% of the miles, I've done 80% of the altitude change. So on to the flatlands (most aren't intimidated but the "mountains" of, say, Conneticut or Maryland).
But I've slowed down the last few days. Just because you CAN go faster doesn't mean you should (I could just get on a plane and fly to Georgia in 2 hours if I was in that much of a hurry). Most of the locals I've talked to have similar assestments. SLOW DOWN they say. The whole point of the trail is to stop and notice the little things you'd miss if you were just "commuting" through an area. Julia taught me long ago that it's not a race, and it's good to remind myself that the only thing that's forcing me to do this is myself, and I can slow down or even stop completely whenever I want. But, that said, I have full intentions to go the full distance, and even though I've done only 20% of the miles, I've done 80% of the altitude change. So on to the flatlands (most aren't intimidated but the "mountains" of, say, Conneticut or Maryland).
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Next Mail Drop
My next mail drop can actually go to a friend of mine, who's coming and hiking with me for a couple days, and then I'm going to get off the trail a couple days and (shudder) work before continuing down into Massachusetts.
Cameron Bynum
C/o Evan Chadwick
383 Western Ave #2
Brattleboro, VT 05301
Cameron Bynum
C/o Evan Chadwick
383 Western Ave #2
Brattleboro, VT 05301
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
New Hampshire: The Sellout State
New Hampshire is distinctly different from Maine. The first town I went to, though admittedly larger than any of my Maine towns, was still rather small. Nevertheless, it managed to still have a Walmart and McDonald's. The Maine towns usually just had "The (Town Name) General Store" and I would eat at, simply, "The Diner". Walmarts creep up right on New Hampshire's borders, like casinos on the edge of California, as if to tempt it's more naturally organic neighboring states, Maine and Vermont. New Hampshire had more mountains carved into ski lifts, more road crossings with annoying "Appalacian Trail Parking Lot"'s I had to walk through. The worst was Mt Washington, the highest peak in the Northeast (and second highest on the whole A.T.), which had a cog and road that leads to the top of it. This means there was a gift shop with magnets, pens, snow globes, and "this body hiked Mt Washington" t-shirts. Not only does that mean you get some weekend warriors, but fat people in flipflops and trophy wives in stilettos. It was actually the worst culture shock I've experienced so far. The Whites also have what are called huts, rather expensive cabins in the woods with bunk rooms, well water, and delicious meals for its guests. They're very popular with families and the aforementioned weekend warriors. A night in a hut normally costs $80-$120/night, and for a family of four for a weekend, they can become very expensive. But they have established a wonderful agreement with thru-hikers, plus I'm here early in the hiker season, which helps. Thru-hikers can work-for-stay, where we do 1-2 hours' work sweeping the floor and doing dishes, and then we can sleep on the floor and eat whatever food is leftover at the end of the paying guests' dinner. Some fellow thru-hikers said they felt like slaves, obeying the caretakers' demands to clean the floor, getting out of people's way, and literally eating the leftover scraps. But I loved it. I'd move hut to hut and worked my way through several all-you-can-eat meals and paid nothing for them. Sometimes my work-for-stay would include me telling stories to the guests about my thru-hiking experience, or playing my own wake-up song on the guitar to rally guests awake and let them know when breakfast was. I actually ran the last one while the caretaker stepped out for a few hours because I was so proficient at running them (I stayed at like half a dozen of them).
I also realized, to my horror and with an absolute inability to do anything about it, that I went through this popular National Park over 4th of July weekend, and it was packed. But again that was to my advantage, as so many people offered me food and supplies "since I'm going back to civilization tomorrow."
But so I undeniably gave in to sellout New Hampshire culture, giving up freedom for a little security, which is ironic given that New Hampshire's State Motto is "Live Free or Die." I was undeniably more comfortable in the huts, despite the lack of flushing toliets or places to plug in and charge my camera and phone.
But boy there are so many people in this popular National Forest over July 4th weekend. I was amazed at how many people I saw with not just one, but TWO X-chromosomes. I did not see a single straight single female within a decade of my age for the entire time I was in Maine (what about the snakebite girl, you say? Prefers women over men. Ahh, now I understand why you have a male companion who is not your boyfriend). My first night in a hut a handful of us, boys and girls, went skinny dipping in the nearby lake late at night. So again I've had a more enjoyable time since I've been in New Hampshire, yet somehow feel more hollow.
I also realized, to my horror and with an absolute inability to do anything about it, that I went through this popular National Park over 4th of July weekend, and it was packed. But again that was to my advantage, as so many people offered me food and supplies "since I'm going back to civilization tomorrow."
But so I undeniably gave in to sellout New Hampshire culture, giving up freedom for a little security, which is ironic given that New Hampshire's State Motto is "Live Free or Die." I was undeniably more comfortable in the huts, despite the lack of flushing toliets or places to plug in and charge my camera and phone.
But boy there are so many people in this popular National Forest over July 4th weekend. I was amazed at how many people I saw with not just one, but TWO X-chromosomes. I did not see a single straight single female within a decade of my age for the entire time I was in Maine (what about the snakebite girl, you say? Prefers women over men. Ahh, now I understand why you have a male companion who is not your boyfriend). My first night in a hut a handful of us, boys and girls, went skinny dipping in the nearby lake late at night. So again I've had a more enjoyable time since I've been in New Hampshire, yet somehow feel more hollow.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Maine Strikes Back
Whew. Maine did not go without a fight.
The two most challenging experiences of my hiking career happened to happen 24 hours apart from one another. And they also just happened to be my last 2 days in Maine.
The first was Baldpate Mountain. For many other hikers on other days, Baldpate is an uneventful mountain, similar to many others: Steep climb up, good stretch over the top above the treeline, and then a steep downhill. Pretty standard. But, as I mentioned in my last post, it'd been raining the last few days. And I caught Baldpate in some of the worst weather I've experienced so far. Drenching rain, and a white, surrounding fog that made it difficult to see more than a few feet. And, as any hiker knows, the wind gets worse and worse the higher up a mountain you go. As the name indicates, Baldpate has no trees or really any plantlife for over a mile as you crest the top. It's essentially one giant stone rock. I would lose my balance in the wind and the rain with nothing to hold onto (normally there would be trees or boulders along the side of the trail). I'd fall, ad then slide 30, 40, 50 feet down the mountain. Often NOT in the direction I was trying to hike. With the fog I'd lose the trail and waunder around aimlessly, soaked and panicked. I'd try to edge my way up/down the rock cliff, but I'd continue to slip. It was like hikin in roller skates. "Hiking the Appalachian Trail" is less accurate than "Riding down the rocky Appalachian water slide". When I finally got to the lean-to, my hands were so frozen I couldn't untie my shoes. Luckily there were two other miserable people at the shelter.
On a happier side note, they were actually two French Canadian guys. And there are some French Canadians here in the little New Hamphire town I'm writing this. It's fun hearing people speak a foreign language, and I realized with a start that I'm much further away from home than they are (they said it's only a 3-4 hour drive to their hometown of Quebec City).
After a very cold and still mostly wet night, I moved on to the next section, which includes the Mahoosuc Arm, considered by most to contain the single hardest mile on the whole A.T. It was thankfully not raining that day (though still very wet from the day before). The Mahoosuc Arm includes a scramble that goes over, under, in between, and around very large boulders. You'd do your best gymnastics, stretching from one boulder to another. And more accurate than the roller skates reference eariler (since there really was some in the Mahoosuc Arm, despite it being the last week of June) was hiking on ice. There was ice and snow spread through the deep crevices between the rocks. And I'd scramble among them, sort of like James Franco in the opening scenes of 127 hours (alas, without the beautiful pair of women). And we all know how that ended. My lanky body structure actually helped in a way that I could do moves that a vshorter person couldn't. Which actually gave me some false confidence. If Baldpate was terrifying, Mahoosic was exhilarating. And I just so happened to know that all of the other hikers going South or North that day (like the aforementioned French Canadians) were either already through the Mahoosuc Arm or saving it for the next day. So if I lost my grip in certain places, I really would fall several feet to a painful possible death, and no one would be by until at least the next day. And I did slip. A lot. I actually fall at least once a day, and I had a couple bad spills in the Mahoosuc Arm. I scraped up my whole left side at one point. I slipped and managed to keep my footing, and only saved my fall by reaching out with my walking stick and saving the impact at a point when my head was actually lower than my feet on the higher rock. At this point I should remind you that I have 45 lbs on my back and had already hiked over 10 miles that day. Scary recovery. It was some crazy gymnastics through the very rocky and cold Arm. When I finally got back into the trees, my glasses fogged with the sudden temperature change. But the next morning, I crossed into New Hampshire. One state down, 13 to go.
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I'll get some picture up as soon as I can.
The two most challenging experiences of my hiking career happened to happen 24 hours apart from one another. And they also just happened to be my last 2 days in Maine.
The first was Baldpate Mountain. For many other hikers on other days, Baldpate is an uneventful mountain, similar to many others: Steep climb up, good stretch over the top above the treeline, and then a steep downhill. Pretty standard. But, as I mentioned in my last post, it'd been raining the last few days. And I caught Baldpate in some of the worst weather I've experienced so far. Drenching rain, and a white, surrounding fog that made it difficult to see more than a few feet. And, as any hiker knows, the wind gets worse and worse the higher up a mountain you go. As the name indicates, Baldpate has no trees or really any plantlife for over a mile as you crest the top. It's essentially one giant stone rock. I would lose my balance in the wind and the rain with nothing to hold onto (normally there would be trees or boulders along the side of the trail). I'd fall, ad then slide 30, 40, 50 feet down the mountain. Often NOT in the direction I was trying to hike. With the fog I'd lose the trail and waunder around aimlessly, soaked and panicked. I'd try to edge my way up/down the rock cliff, but I'd continue to slip. It was like hikin in roller skates. "Hiking the Appalachian Trail" is less accurate than "Riding down the rocky Appalachian water slide". When I finally got to the lean-to, my hands were so frozen I couldn't untie my shoes. Luckily there were two other miserable people at the shelter.
On a happier side note, they were actually two French Canadian guys. And there are some French Canadians here in the little New Hamphire town I'm writing this. It's fun hearing people speak a foreign language, and I realized with a start that I'm much further away from home than they are (they said it's only a 3-4 hour drive to their hometown of Quebec City).
After a very cold and still mostly wet night, I moved on to the next section, which includes the Mahoosuc Arm, considered by most to contain the single hardest mile on the whole A.T. It was thankfully not raining that day (though still very wet from the day before). The Mahoosuc Arm includes a scramble that goes over, under, in between, and around very large boulders. You'd do your best gymnastics, stretching from one boulder to another. And more accurate than the roller skates reference eariler (since there really was some in the Mahoosuc Arm, despite it being the last week of June) was hiking on ice. There was ice and snow spread through the deep crevices between the rocks. And I'd scramble among them, sort of like James Franco in the opening scenes of 127 hours (alas, without the beautiful pair of women). And we all know how that ended. My lanky body structure actually helped in a way that I could do moves that a vshorter person couldn't. Which actually gave me some false confidence. If Baldpate was terrifying, Mahoosic was exhilarating. And I just so happened to know that all of the other hikers going South or North that day (like the aforementioned French Canadians) were either already through the Mahoosuc Arm or saving it for the next day. So if I lost my grip in certain places, I really would fall several feet to a painful possible death, and no one would be by until at least the next day. And I did slip. A lot. I actually fall at least once a day, and I had a couple bad spills in the Mahoosuc Arm. I scraped up my whole left side at one point. I slipped and managed to keep my footing, and only saved my fall by reaching out with my walking stick and saving the impact at a point when my head was actually lower than my feet on the higher rock. At this point I should remind you that I have 45 lbs on my back and had already hiked over 10 miles that day. Scary recovery. It was some crazy gymnastics through the very rocky and cold Arm. When I finally got back into the trees, my glasses fogged with the sudden temperature change. But the next morning, I crossed into New Hampshire. One state down, 13 to go.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Almost done with Maine
I'm hoping to cross the State line into New Hampshire on the 26th, or at the latest the 27th. Which gets me in under my goal of Maine in under a month. One state down, 13 to go. Jesus.
I've done a lot of hiking, but there's a few situations on this trip that I actually haven't experienced before. I've hiked a lot, and I've hiked in the rain, and I've pooped in the woods. But this was the first time I pooped in the woods while it was raining (so long, dry toilet paper). These are the types of stories I've been experiencing, but I don't know if they're interesting for the general public. Another example was when a fellow hiker said "over the next mile, we go from four thousand to thirty eight thousand feet", which made us all laugh and gasp at how daunting of a task that would be (he obviously meant 4000 to 3800 feet).
But yep I'm alive, just drudging along. It's been raining a lot the last few days, which slows me down considerably, but there are fewer bugs, so I only get maybe 2 dozen bug bites a day, instead of literally hundreds every day.
I've done a lot of hiking, but there's a few situations on this trip that I actually haven't experienced before. I've hiked a lot, and I've hiked in the rain, and I've pooped in the woods. But this was the first time I pooped in the woods while it was raining (so long, dry toilet paper). These are the types of stories I've been experiencing, but I don't know if they're interesting for the general public. Another example was when a fellow hiker said "over the next mile, we go from four thousand to thirty eight thousand feet", which made us all laugh and gasp at how daunting of a task that would be (he obviously meant 4000 to 3800 feet).
But yep I'm alive, just drudging along. It's been raining a lot the last few days, which slows me down considerably, but there are fewer bugs, so I only get maybe 2 dozen bug bites a day, instead of literally hundreds every day.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Saturday, June 11, 2011
The 100 mile Wilderness
Sorry that last post got cut off before I got to any stories.
So I spent a lot of the last few weeks/months prepping for this hike: buying supplies when I saw they went on sale, prepping the aforementioned boxes. I spent little time actually prepping for MAINE. DAY 1. One of those "forest for the trees" types of errors.
I deinitely got tired. I'm quite skinny but actually put on 20 lbs in the weeks leading up to this hike, purposely fattening myself up for when I'd run out of food before reaching the next town. I discovered some supplies I needed I had put in boxes to be shipped months from now and others I brought but have no use for until later down the trail. So it goes. But want to know the worst part about hiking in Maine in June? Blackflies. Billions of them. And mixed in the swarm, waiting to bomb away are the proverbial Y-wings behind the blackflies' X-wings: mosquitoes. I had heard that there were a lot of bugs up here, but I didn't realize they'd be this relentless. I didn't bring bug spray. Or a face mosuito net. Anyone who's ever been here knows the brevity of that statement. You Nevadas (where there is no living creatures) may not know. I hopefully will post of picture soon that shows just how many bug bites I got. They never stop. They are immobilizing in the evenings and even other parts of the day they're still around. I'm saying these bugs have been gnawing on me for the past 253 hours strait. But the bug bites actually aren't the worst. I had a snakebite on the middle finger of my left hand. Not poisonous, but it did get infected. We perormed surgery in a lean-to, and a girl names natalie actually filmed in on her camera and hopefully will send it to me eventually. It was excruciating.
(My legs after 24 hours. Yes, just one day into it, with over 150 days to go. They're actually much worse now).
(1. What kind of snake is this? 2. Is it poisonous? 3. What kind of idiot would get this close to take a picture of a snake when he doesn't know the answer to questions 1 & 2?)
The answer to #2 is, thankfully, No. I was biten and it got infected, but wasn't poisonous. And to answer #3, THIS snake was not the one that bit me (same kind though, I think). I was bitten while napping. I'm not so idiotic as to go snapping photos away and then see if a snake can fit my whole finger in its mouth.
Though it was awesome to spend that night with her and her male friend (note: I did not say boyfriend). I often went days without seeing a woman. And I would pass people and stop to chat for a few minutes, but there was definitely a stretch there where, out of 100 hours, I spent well over 99 of them completely and utterly alone.
That said I've done too much typing. I'll trying to get pics up scenery and injuries up soon as I can, and will hopefully post again in less time than this last gap.
Cheers,
Cameron Bynum
So I spent a lot of the last few weeks/months prepping for this hike: buying supplies when I saw they went on sale, prepping the aforementioned boxes. I spent little time actually prepping for MAINE. DAY 1. One of those "forest for the trees" types of errors.
I deinitely got tired. I'm quite skinny but actually put on 20 lbs in the weeks leading up to this hike, purposely fattening myself up for when I'd run out of food before reaching the next town. I discovered some supplies I needed I had put in boxes to be shipped months from now and others I brought but have no use for until later down the trail. So it goes. But want to know the worst part about hiking in Maine in June? Blackflies. Billions of them. And mixed in the swarm, waiting to bomb away are the proverbial Y-wings behind the blackflies' X-wings: mosquitoes. I had heard that there were a lot of bugs up here, but I didn't realize they'd be this relentless. I didn't bring bug spray. Or a face mosuito net. Anyone who's ever been here knows the brevity of that statement. You Nevadas (where there is no living creatures) may not know. I hopefully will post of picture soon that shows just how many bug bites I got. They never stop. They are immobilizing in the evenings and even other parts of the day they're still around. I'm saying these bugs have been gnawing on me for the past 253 hours strait. But the bug bites actually aren't the worst. I had a snakebite on the middle finger of my left hand. Not poisonous, but it did get infected. We perormed surgery in a lean-to, and a girl names natalie actually filmed in on her camera and hopefully will send it to me eventually. It was excruciating.
The answer to #2 is, thankfully, No. I was biten and it got infected, but wasn't poisonous. And to answer #3, THIS snake was not the one that bit me (same kind though, I think). I was bitten while napping. I'm not so idiotic as to go snapping photos away and then see if a snake can fit my whole finger in its mouth.
Though it was awesome to spend that night with her and her male friend (note: I did not say boyfriend). I often went days without seeing a woman. And I would pass people and stop to chat for a few minutes, but there was definitely a stretch there where, out of 100 hours, I spent well over 99 of them completely and utterly alone.
That said I've done too much typing. I'll trying to get pics up scenery and injuries up soon as I can, and will hopefully post again in less time than this last gap.
Cheers,
Cameron Bynum
Starting with the hardest part
Hi All,
Sorry it's taken me so long to post anything. I've been in the woods! I hopefully will update this at least a little more regularly going forward. The AT, if you start in the North (most don't), starts with formindable Mt Katahdin, which rises 4000 feet in elevation in just 4 miles, and that's just a section of it! You then directly enter the "100 mile wilderness" before finally reaching Monson ME, which is where I am now. So this is my first time indoors in 2 weeks. And in a couple days I'll be in the second town, Caratunk ME, where I'll pick up mail and such.
Whew where to begin. Coloradans might be surprised to hear I'm just now starting out, since I left my job there just about exactly a month before actually beginning my journey. I visited family and friends and prepped boxes I'm leaving with those family members to be shipped out to me. Though I was indoors that whole time it was a prep for the constantly-moving life of the AT (In the month of May alone I set foot in 9 states, 10 if you count a layover in Chicago's Ohare Airport). I dragged my poor dad along with me for part of it, and we logged over 1500 miles in the car over just 6 days. But I was itching to start the hike and couldn't wait to get going.
The AT itself has the blessing and curse of not being easily accessible, so it took a few planes, trains, and automobiles over multiple days before I got there. The Maine accent is an interesting one. Not really Canadian and even less like Boston, it's nevertheless geographically between the two, but not exactly phonetically. I found a ride from an outdoorsy guy and actually got into Baxter State Park and the foothills of Katahdin the night of 5/31/11. And then got to the top of Katahdin then next day, which has made counting days easy, since "day 1" was june 1st. And then all the fun began.
Sorry it's taken me so long to post anything. I've been in the woods! I hopefully will update this at least a little more regularly going forward. The AT, if you start in the North (most don't), starts with formindable Mt Katahdin, which rises 4000 feet in elevation in just 4 miles, and that's just a section of it! You then directly enter the "100 mile wilderness" before finally reaching Monson ME, which is where I am now. So this is my first time indoors in 2 weeks. And in a couple days I'll be in the second town, Caratunk ME, where I'll pick up mail and such.
Whew where to begin. Coloradans might be surprised to hear I'm just now starting out, since I left my job there just about exactly a month before actually beginning my journey. I visited family and friends and prepped boxes I'm leaving with those family members to be shipped out to me. Though I was indoors that whole time it was a prep for the constantly-moving life of the AT (In the month of May alone I set foot in 9 states, 10 if you count a layover in Chicago's Ohare Airport). I dragged my poor dad along with me for part of it, and we logged over 1500 miles in the car over just 6 days. But I was itching to start the hike and couldn't wait to get going.
The AT itself has the blessing and curse of not being easily accessible, so it took a few planes, trains, and automobiles over multiple days before I got there. The Maine accent is an interesting one. Not really Canadian and even less like Boston, it's nevertheless geographically between the two, but not exactly phonetically. I found a ride from an outdoorsy guy and actually got into Baxter State Park and the foothills of Katahdin the night of 5/31/11. And then got to the top of Katahdin then next day, which has made counting days easy, since "day 1" was june 1st. And then all the fun began.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Hi Everyone
Hello,
So for those of you who do not know, I will be hiking the Appalachian trail this year (2011), starting 5/31/11. I will be posting on this site insights, remarks, comments, requests, and just general acknowledgements of my existence. I thought about facebook or a couple other blogging sites, but picked this one. The only downside of it is I know it's kind of complicated and confusing to post a comment for you all. But you can still call and leave me a voicemail or text or facebook message (775-813-7496). I'll get back to you when I can, and am setting this up so I can communicate with everyone in one motion.
I'll also be posting where people can ship things to me. An example (and the first place I'll be picking up) looks like this:
Cameron Reed Bynum
c/o General Delivery
Caratunk, ME 04925
Please Hold for Thru-Hiker
Estimated Date of Arrival: 6/13/11
I'll post other places as I get closer to them and know the date. If something gets there a couple days early, it's not a big deal. If it gets there a day late, I'll never get it. And anything sent has to be sent USPS (no FedEx or UPS).
But so I hope to post amazing insights and delightful stories as I hike the 2000+ miles of the AT as it weaves through 14 states and takes approximately 6 months. I start in Maine 5/31/11 and my goal is to get to my dad's house in Atlanta, GA by Thanksgiving. Pretty excited.
So for those of you who do not know, I will be hiking the Appalachian trail this year (2011), starting 5/31/11. I will be posting on this site insights, remarks, comments, requests, and just general acknowledgements of my existence. I thought about facebook or a couple other blogging sites, but picked this one. The only downside of it is I know it's kind of complicated and confusing to post a comment for you all. But you can still call and leave me a voicemail or text or facebook message (775-813-7496). I'll get back to you when I can, and am setting this up so I can communicate with everyone in one motion.
I'll also be posting where people can ship things to me. An example (and the first place I'll be picking up) looks like this:
Cameron Reed Bynum
c/o General Delivery
Caratunk, ME 04925
Please Hold for Thru-Hiker
Estimated Date of Arrival: 6/13/11
I'll post other places as I get closer to them and know the date. If something gets there a couple days early, it's not a big deal. If it gets there a day late, I'll never get it. And anything sent has to be sent USPS (no FedEx or UPS).
But so I hope to post amazing insights and delightful stories as I hike the 2000+ miles of the AT as it weaves through 14 states and takes approximately 6 months. I start in Maine 5/31/11 and my goal is to get to my dad's house in Atlanta, GA by Thanksgiving. Pretty excited.
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