I was apprehensive about my second pass through the Smokies in a month
02/03, Sa, Mollies Ridge Shelter 12.0
02/04, Su, Derrick Knob Shelter 12.1
02/05, Mo, Mt Collins Shelter 13.0
02/06, Tu, Peck’s Corner Shelter 15.2
02/07, We, Cosby Knob Shelter 12.9
02/08, Th, Standing Bear Farm 10.4
Total miles to date: 2457.2
Cammerer Fire Tower at north end of GSMNP
When I came through the Smokies on my SOBO leg, conditions were “less than ideal” to say the least. I entered the Smokies on the last day of ‘23 and only hiked 7.5 miles to spend the night in Cammerer Fire Tower. Even with the short distance walked, it was exactly like my childhood walks to school in the winter—uphill, in the freezing cold, and snow (both ways).
Childhood memories of my walk to school
I hit snow and sub-freezing temperatures about 3 miles into my journey and conditions stayed that way for the next 6 days. For three days, the high temperature never even got above 20. I was prepared for the cold temperatures, but that doesn’t mean I like them. I walked on snow and ice for over 70 miles. The only break was for about a mile when I dropped down below 5000’ at New Found Gap.
I spent my New Year’s Eve in Cammerer Fire Tower—it would have been better if all the windows were in place
I was leery of a repeat of my SOBO traverse. It didn’t help that when I was at the NOC, another hiker I had met while I was heading south, texted me and told me he and his group bailed at New Found Gap because the snow was waist-deep.
The south entrance to GSMNP is just past Fontana Dam
The snow we had been dealing with in NC had changed back to rain and the temperatures were well above freezing again—sometimes even reaching 40. I checked the long term forecast for Clingman’s Done (the tallest mountain in the Smokies) and the temperatures were above freezing even at night which meant the rain was still rain and not additional snow. It looked like I might get lucky (weather-wise, no luck with women. Don’t go to a sausage party to pick up a woman.)
Turbo has to be THE LAST SOBO from last year’s class
I was the first to leave the bathroom. Fog is not an early riser. Coming from me, that says a lot. It was a gorgeous day and already almost 50. Things were looking a lot better than my last traverse. In fact, on this trip, unlike my last one, the temperature would never drop below freezing (even at night) for the entire time I was in the Smokies. I still walked on a fair amount of snow and ice, but, overall, much less this time.
Remnants of a military plane crash from last century
About 6 miles in, I ran into a young lady whose phone had died. She asked to borrow my phone to call a hostel to pick her up later. As we started talking, she started to realize who I was. I was surprised that she knew me by name. This was Hungry Bird.
Typical shelter in the Smokies (not pictured—the mice)
Hungry Bird got her name from the phrase “the early bird catches the worm.” She, too, is not an early riser. No worm = hungry bird. She started about a month before I did last year, but she has been enjoying her time on trail. She’s been hiking with two brothers she met when she started her flip flop. So far, she has taken over 70 zeros (eclipsing our 55 zeros when we thru-hiked in ‘18).
Foggy on my first pass kept visibility down (and bowels in tact)
While we were talking, Fog caught up with us which led to more conversation. My planned 17 mile day was quickly reduced to a 12 mile day. It’s my intention to not do any night hiking in the Smokies because I don’t want to run the risk of getting caught out with an unpredictable weather change.
Even though warm, with wind at elevation things can seem a bit bleak
I didn’t actually run into any snow until my second day in the Smokies. Once I got to Rocky Top, the snow had melted and refrozen to a nice ice pack. I could have hiked without my micro spikes, but it would be slower going. Since I’m carrying them, I might as well use them.
The trail through the Smokies is amazing. For miles and miles, the trail follows a narrow ridge no more than 5’ wide. On my SOBO traverse, I had poor visibility; often no more than 30’. That means, even though I could see the mountain quickly falling away from the trail, I didn’t have a strong feeling of exposure. With the clear days of my second pass, I definitely felt the steepness and was quite nervous for long stretches at a time.
Clingman’s Dome
I tried to keep my mind off of the exposure by going through my ancestor meditation where I try to remember everyone I’ve ever known who has died. I’ve been doing this daily for several months now.
When I run out of dead people to remember, I compose my list of requirements for any future woman that could end up in my life. I narrowed it down to 5 qualities I’m looking for:
5) a love of nature—l spend a lot of time hiking. Combined with all the bad financial decisions I’ve made in my life, sleeping on the ground is a big part of my future, so any woman is going to need to have a strong love of the outdoors.
New Found Gap completely devoid of snow
4) she must be sexually turned on by a man with low self esteem—not repulsed by low self esteem might be an acceptable alternative, but sexually turned on would sure save a lot of begging time.
3) she must have low self esteem, but not be bitter about it. I don’t want “it’s about time somebody noticed!” I’d rather have “thank you for noticing.”
This is something I didn’t see on my first pass—actual trail!
2) she must have, or quite recently had, a pulse. There are some lines I won’t cross and necrophilia seems to be one of them. Although it’s been quite a while so who knows what depths I might sink to…let’s just put a pretty defined dashed box around this one and move on.
1) is actually a tie between poor eyesight and very low standards. After all, the prize is me. Both of these qualities are an absolute must.
And like that…I’m out of the Smokies
By the time I go through these exercises on a daily basis, I have managed to move past the danger zones. My time in the Smokies has made me realize just how beautiful North Carolina actually is. In fact, I have moved NC up to my number 2 favorite state on the AT. If I ever happen to stumble onto that bag of drug money some cartel has hidden in the woods, I would absolutely include western NC in my home search. Until then, I’m scouting for possible hidden spots to build a primitive home to share with bears (hopefully a very near sighted bear that likes to spoon—the rest of the conditions should be no problem except I’d probably need to add “the absence of mange.”)
I entered NC on a bright, sunny, warm day. That was the weather high point because it deteriorated from there. The second day was continuous rain. I originally planned to hike further than Carter Gap Shelter, but I made the mistake of stepping out of the rain. Fog, who I’d met at Around the Bend Hostel was already there with the same intention of moving on.
The Gnarled Oak is a famous tree on the NC state lineRed sky at night…everything should be fine
The longer we talked, the harder it rained. We both gave up on the idea of progress. 6p is a great bed time on a rainy day. I didn’t think I was sleeping but I rolled over and Fog was standing over me dripping water. “How did you get so wet?” “From walking in the rain!” It wasn’t Fog, it was another hiker.
Make no mistake—monsters live on the trail! He was very aggressive! Fortunately, he was slow and only 3” long
Night Shift is the third hiker I’ve met this year who is attempting the “calendar year triple crown” (that’s thru-hiking the AT, PCT, and CDT all in one year—7800 miles total). I’m only hiking 5000 miles in 15 months.
A touch of snow is charming
Overnight, the rain turned to snow and the wind picked up significantly. No surprise that we were all slow getting going in the morning. I was already planning on staying at a hostel for the night and I told Night Shift about it. He decided to “waste” a day and only hike 16 miles—he’s averaging 25/day for now but will have to increase that over time.
Not as charming
I make a couple of hot water bottles every night in cold weather. A 1 liter to sleep with and a 1/2 liter to put in an insulated lunch box to keep my fuel, electronics, and water filter from freezing. On cold days, like today, I reheat the 1/2 liter bottle and carry it under my coat to keep my core temperature up and to quickly warm my hands when they get cold. I kind of panic if I lose feeling in my hands. I only mention this because of an incident with my 1/2 liter bottle.
Calendar Year Triple Crowner (potentially), Night Shift
Night Shift decided to walk slow so we could share the ride into the hostel. Even with him taking his time and stopping for me to catch up, he still beat me to the trailhead by a good 15 minutes. I was so relieved when I got there and saw the waiting car that I started undoing my pack so I could throw it in and get warm.
We were made very welcome at Chica & Sunset’s
When I started to pack up to leave after my zero in Franklin, I couldn’t find my 1/2 liter bottle. I looked all over the apartment, checked the car, even looked outside for it, but it was gone. When we got back to the trailhead, we checked on the trail to see if I had dropped it there.
Wayah Bald observation tower
It was another cold day and I really would have liked it full of boiling water between my coats. I ran into another “section hiker” (just out for a week) and he told me he had stayed with Fog last night and he was only about an hour ahead of me. I normally don’t like to share shelters, but when conditions are this bad, I don’t mind sharing the misery.
Fog on a clear day
When I arrived at Cold Spring Shelter, Fog was already there and asked me if I had lost anything. He went into the outfitter to buy his own Nalgene bottle and a worker asked him if he had lost one. Fog said he hadn’t, but he knew a guy who had a blue half liter bottle that might have gotten lost. The guy ran home to grab the bottle he had found near the trailhead the day before. Fog presented me with my bottle already filled with hot water. The trail provides!
The Smokies are in sightSome fresh snow overnight
Fog and I walked around each other for the 3 days and stayed in the NOC and the Fontana bathroom together. It was starting to warm up by the time we made it to the Fontana Dam, but I had talked up how nice and warm the floor of the bathroom was that he decided to carve out his spot near the heater.
Lonnie at Stecoah Gap
When I had come out of the Smokies in early January, I had had 6 full days where the temperature never got above freezing. I needed relief even if it meant sleeping on a pee dripped on floor next to a toilet (as long as it was heated). It was the first night I had been able to get up to perform my “old man perimeter check” without freezing my ass off. That bathroom will always have a special place in my heart.
I’ve finished my SOBO leg of the AT and am heading back to Maine
01/17 We Amicalola SP 8.7
01/18 Th Ellijay, GA, ZERO
01/19 Fr Ellijay, GA, ZERO
01/20 Sa Stover Creek Shelter, 11.3
01/21 Su Gooch Gap, Hidden Pond, 14.1
01/22 Mo Neels Gap, Green Dragon 14.4
01/23 Tu Low Gap Shelter 11.7
01/24 We Deep Gap Shelter 22.8
01/25 Th Dicks Gap, Around the Bend 3.6
01/26 Fr Muskrat Creek Shelter 11.8
By now, some of you may have seen that I have completed the Southbound leg of my AT yo-yo. I know I said I was going to immediately turn around and head north when I reached Amicalola, but I got an offer I couldn’t refuse—a couple of free days in a cabin with a hot tub, wine from New Zealand, and a dog that would sleep with me. In light of having an empty bed for the past year (excepting some unsatisfactory trysts with mice), I couldn’t resist.
Time to turn around and head back to Maine
To summarize my southbound journey, I’ll list a few highlights. I started my hike on my dad’s birthday (6/22)—he died in December of ‘22. It was his death and my divorce that pushed me out here this time. I had my college friend, David, join me for 2 weeks in NY & NJ around the end of September. Then, a former Tramily member, Bear, joined me for almost a week in late October. He was planning on a longer trip, but he managed to introduce Covid to the trail which lead to his early departure. I completed my SOBO hike on my mom’s birthday (1/17)—she died in 2019. The whole hike was just 5 days shy of 7 months.
Georgia trail crew out cutting fallen trees
I might have gotten additional time staying with Clean Break and his fiancé, but I got kicked out after 3 nights. Apparently, Louie (the dog) fell too much in love with me. If I didn’t get out, his future within the household would come into question. I sacrificed my own comfort the the security of my new love.
Dogs—the only loyal animal (at least to me)
Officially, my Northbound thru-hike started on the same day I finished my Southbound hike—1/17, when I walked back through the Approach Arch and 5’ back up the Approach Trail. In reality, it was then that I started sobbing and begging for a hot tub, when Clean Break said I could stay the night. I found the sobbing to be fairly effective and tried that trick for a couple of additional nights off trail. If only the damn dog hadn’t fallen in love with me, I might still be sipping wine in the hot tub.
Blood Mountain shelter built in 1935
Our love was pure. Too pure, in fact, which cut short my stay. It was projected to be a high of 20 the day that I was returned to the trail. It might have made that just as I passed through the arch for the last time. By the time I reached the last shelter on the approach trail, the temperature was already down to 12.
It’s only 1.5 miles to the Springer summit from the shelter. The temperature was so low when I got to the summit that after recording a short video of myself, my phone battery dropped from 80% to 9% in just 2 minutes. I decided to get moving because I still had almost 3 miles to go to my shelter.
Monsters inhabit these woods
About a mile into my final stretch, it got dark. I pulled out my flashlight which lasted less than 5 minutes before its freshly charged battery died in the cold. I dropped my pack, pulled out my other flashlight which promptly died as well. I was still 2 miles from my shelter and in the dark. The only light I had that was working was my thermometer which let me see the temperature was 6. I tried not to panic, and, for the most part succeeded.
There was enough of a moon that I could mostly find my way. I decided that if I couldn’t find a blaze every few minutes, I would just stop where I was and set up camp for the night. I kept moving forward until I got water and found my shelter. It was a trick setting up my bed and cooking supper in the shelter without the light of the moon. I decided that I’d stay in a hostel the next night if I made it through this one.
A little snow is pretty
It had warmed back up to 6 by 10a when I was finally ready to start hiking. I charged my phone up enough off my battery pack to try making another video at Long Creek Falls and to make a phone call to stay at Hidden Pond Hostel.
Long Creek Falls
It was my intention to film a short “reel” every day to post on Instagram to document this leg of my trip. Once I was inside on the second night, I got a chance to look at what I had recorded. It’s been my recent experience that schizophrenic people are drawn to me. After watching these videos, I understood why—I definitely appear to be their leader.
Nimrod, me, and Gordon (new owner) at Around the Bend
Those videos caused me to drop the Instagram Reel approach and to change my whole outlook on my remaining life. To all the women of the world, you can breathe a huge sigh of relief—I promise to leave you all alone. Alone is what I am destined to be from here on out. I will quit reverse stalking anyone who comments on my blog. I fully accept my earliest answers I found on this trip.
🎶 Don’t let the sun go down on me 🎶
Those answers…”dogs and prostitutes.” Dogs for companionship and unconditional love. Prostitutes for when my hands get too calloused. Louie, why did I leave you behind?
Gnarled oak on NC state line
The weather changed rapidly over the next several days. So far, in Georgia alone, on my return, I have experienced a multi-day arctic blast warming up to freezing rain, further warming to survivable warm rain. The day thunderstorms were predicted which almost led to me taking a zero at Around the Bend Hostel actually turned out to be in the mid 60s with blue skies. This gave me false hopes that the next day might be better than predicted.
Done with Georgia for the second time this trip
In a way, it was better. Instead of 10 hours of thunderstorms, we just had heavy rains. The rain caused me to cut my day short after 13 miles. However, the rain turned to snow overnight with strong winds. I’ve seen all four seasons in a period of 6 days…and this is just my first state on my return hike.
An old friend from college joins me on the trail. It’s great to have an off trail friend learn, first hand, what it is I’m doing.
Day 1 (94), 09/23, Telephone Pioneers Shelter, 0.6
The day has finally arrived that I’ve been planning for: my college friend, David is joining me on the trail for 2 weeks. We’ve been friends for 42 years, which is absolutely mind boggling considering we’re both only 35.
I made the mile walk back to downtown Pawling to have breakfast and kill some time until he arrives. Once he landed, I asked him to tell his driver he was going to pick me up in town and drive us directly to the trail. Pawling is nice enough, but there aren’t any reasonably priced hotels for us to spend the night. Plus, I don’t think 2 bald guys hitchhiking really have a better chance than one.
They let me know as they were getting close so I could go order a pizza to carry out. The plan is to get dropped off at the Dover Oak Tree (the oldest oak directly on the trail—over 300 years old). There’s a shelter less than a mile from the road where we’ll spend the night and do a shakedown. With any luck, we’ll have the shelter to ourselves.
And so our adventure begins at the Dover Oak
I, generally, don’t have fires when I’m on a thru-hike. After a full day of hiking, I just don’t have the energy. We were in camp with a pizza before 1. Dave wanted to build a fire and we had plenty of time. I had my second campfire this year.
As always, only healthy food on the trail
The hope of a solo shelter soon diminished. Another SOBO thru-hiker (whom I hadn’t met) and a NOBO section hiker joined us. It was a great introduction to “trail characters” for Dave. The SOBO hiker was a bit eccentric and never heard a conspiracy theory that he didn’t believe in.
Day 2 (95), 09/24, Morgan Stewart Shelter 7.8
My plan is to break Dave gradually. Perhaps I should say “break in,” but this is the AT. I figured NY and NJ are two of the flattest states to start someone on. Dave is in pretty good shape (considering he’s even older than me, by almost 6 months—ancient!).
Dave’s biggest fear—giant tics!
David has done a lot of camping (his family used to come down to my place in Southern Illinois every year) and he’s done a lot of day hiking, but this is his first foray into backpacking. I want this to be as enjoyable as possible for him.
From personal experience, I’ve found day 4 on a trip tends to be when your body rebels the most. By day 5, your body begins to accept that this is the way things are and it starts to adjust. I’m planning on moderate days for the first couple days gradually adding a couple miles each day and then easing off a bit to allow his body to adjust.
Proof of life photo—day 2
Today is a relatively flat, short day. I let David lead. He does really well leading. He’s even able to continue talking while we’re going uphill. He doesn’t have any problems at all.
Always know you’re emergency numbers
It did rain a bit, on and off, but nothing bad. We made it to the shelter in the early afternoon. Dave wanted another fire so we collected wood, but it was too wet for us to get it going.
We’re really on the AT
Peter, a NOBO section hiker eventually joined us. He’s from CT and is “hiking home” on this trip. He was interesting to talk to. He’s a young guy working for the former Senator Lieberman’s foundation. The foundation tries to encourage/help establish businesses in war areas. Peter is only 23, but he’s been in and out of Ukraine several times already for work. He’ll be returning again later this month. He described his view of things in Ukraine from his time in Kiev. It’s his belief that if US support is withdrawn from Ukraine, they will be that much closer to using nuclear weapons in their defense. The Russian invasion is an existential threat to them.
Day 3 (96), 09/25, RPH Shelter 9.0
It rained most of the night and all morning. I had texted Clean Break to let him know our plans. He’s less than a day behind us. I’d like Dave to get exposed to less eccentric hikers so he isn’t completely tainted. Clean Break will have to do. He’s a retired Marine Colonel who has “rebelled” against his former clean cut life. He has grown his hair into a pony tail and become very health conscious. I’ve been hiking on/off with him (and his son before he got off trail) for the last 500 miles.
Clean Break drug us out of the shelter and into the rain
We have a few options about where to stay tonight—there’s a couple of hotels in about 5 miles if the rain becomes too much. It’s not an ideal introduction to trail life (the rain). We’ll adjust accordingly. In the mean time, we decided to try to wait out the rain.
As the rain was starting to let up, a new face popped into the shelter. Clean Break had braved the morning rain to try to catch up with us. We quickly packed up and hit the trail with him.
A rare non-selfie—an advantage of hiking with people
It was less than 4 miles to our first deli. It was still raining, but not of biblical proportions. We stopped in for some pizza and to pick up a few more food items to hold us for a couple days. While we were eating, the rain intensified. Clean Break and I were willing to get a hotel. David protested and said he came out to hike. This became CB’s rallying cry for Dave—“I want to mother fucking hike!” There might be a trail name in there.
We tried unsuccessfully to get a hotel. We had no option other than to “mother fucking hike on.” Dave was happy. It’s a little over 5 miles to the next shelter. Dave is naive to the ways of rain on the AT. It’s completely doable, but not entirely pleasant.
Because of our late start and pizza break, it turned dark well over a mile before we arrived at the shelter. CB and I had our headlamps accessible, but Dave’s was buried in his pack. He ended up walking between us to have light.
RPH shelter has a well. Or, rather, had a well. The NPS and ATC don’t like wells because they require water testing and maintenance. The latest decision is to remove the handles on all pumps and tell hikers to carry in water instead. The last water source was about 1/2 mile before the shelter.
RPH Shelter
We stopped and filled up water. Dave discovered that his rain coat is not really waterproof. He didn’t complain, but he was completely soaked long before we made it to the shelter.
There were already 2 hikers spread out in the shelter when we arrived. Since it was after dark, they had spread out all their gear to dry expecting no one else would arrive. Surprise!
Ralph saved the old house from being torn down and converted it to a unique shelter
After a lot of shuffling, unpacking, and eating, we finally made it to bed. It was extremely late—almost 9. Dave can scratch another item off his bucket list; backpack at night in the rain. He admitted to be overly enthusiastic this afternoon when we were looking for hotels.
Day 4 (97), 09/26, Dennytown Road Camp 10.7
3 of us went to the shelter last night. 4 of us walked out this morning. Mr Conspiracy was one of the 2 hikers already in the shelter. We walked together as a group for 7 miles. It was entertaining to walk with a group of people for a while, but I was going into sensory overload. I’ve been out here for 3 months, mostly by myself, and I’ve grown to enjoy the silence.
It doesn’t take hikers long to figure out how to find what’s most important
Mr Conspiracy has some whacky views. Generally, when anyone starts talking about conspiracies, I quit listening. I think conspiracy theories are a means of trying to find patterns where patterns don’t exist. Overall, I did soften my view towards Mr Conspiracy because he’s had a tough time recently. He’s coming off a divorce and loss of his job. He has lost everything—wife, kids, house, job. He doesn’t even have a credit card since his divorce. I don’t know how much he truly believes or if this is all an act. I do know when someone defends the Unabomber, I take notice and back away.
Great hiking companions
David and I stopped to get water and have some food while the other two kept going. We had agreed on a camping spot tonight with Clean Break. Dave took the opportunity to soak his feet in some cold water. He’s developed a few blisters on his toes from walking in wet socks in yesterday’s rain.
Some minor foot work required
David and I are pretty much aligned politically. We’re disgusted by the handful of Republicans that don’t want government to function and are in the process of trying to shut the government down. It’s the Republican Party’s own fault that these radicals have such outsized influence in their party. Right wing radio has been preaching “compromise is bad” for the last 20+ years. When you go in with an “all or nothing” attitude, you will come out with nothing which continues to breed contempt among the members. McCarthy has a shit show of his own creation to deal with. I don’t see how he can survive without Democrat support which he’s too stubborn and stupid to ask for. I just hope the Senate will present their bipartisan package to prevent another shutdown. The fuckers are playing with the value of my retirement money. As long as Republicans act this irresponsibly, I cannot vote for the party any longer.
Telephone of the Wind for those who grieve
This is Dave’s real 3rd day of hiking. He hasn’t quite bottomed out physically yet. He’s actually holding up really well. I’m sure he’s aching a bit, but he’s taking his Vitamin I regularly and not complaining. Other than a few blisters and some minor aches, he’s ahead of where I expected him to be. We’ll back off a little tomorrow since it should be his worst day and then try to get in a light recovery day after that.
NY takes advantage of the exposed rocks
We made it to camp pretty early. Clean Break was already set up and Mr Conspiracy had continued on. Dave and I set up camp and made our supper. Afterwards, we all headed out to collect some wood to have another campfire. CB got a nice one going. At twilight, we could see the bats overhead feasting on all the newly hatched insects from the recent rains.
Day 5 (98), 09/27, Graymoor Spiritual Ctr 8.1
We took our time getting ready. I use a single wall tent which is not ideal for using in an open field—lots of condensation. We had our breakfast and dried everything out before packing up and starting.
We walk across an old mining road built in the early 19th century
Overall, a pretty uneventful walk today except for one minor scare. We noticed a tent slightly off the trail with hiking poles in front of it. CB and I approached the tent to make sure there wasn’t someone hurt or in trouble. Dave gallantly held a position far enough away that if someone started shooting, at least one of us would survive to tell the story of events that transpired.
Kind of a creepy vibe made us investigate
I kept yelling towards the tent asking if everything was ok. We were actually pretty concerned that there might be someone hurt or dead inside. It was worse than that. The former occupant had taken a shit in the tent and then abandoned it. “Brown down, all clear!” At least we didn’t have to deal with police and a dead body.
Like us hikers…a bunch of fun guys
We also walked by a small pox inoculation station from the Revolutionary War. Funny how using live virus was fine but when we have a new vaccine everyone rebels against its use. I wonder how much trouble GW had getting his troops inoculated.
Revolutionary War inoculation center
Just prior to our camping spot, we ditched our packs in the woods so we could hike on up to a deli/convenience store about 1/2 mile ahead. We ate our supper there so we wouldn’t have to cook tonight. We also bought some liquid refreshments for later.
The Franciscan Order of monks has a large seminary and retreat center that they allow hikers to camp on. They bring in port-a-potties and have a cold shower for hiker use. There’s also a large pavilion and a fire pit.
Busy beavers in the area
As we were setting up our space and collecting firewood, 2 more SOBOs showed up: Pack Man and NOC (the hiker I had seen in CT that wouldn’t talk to me). NOC stands for No one Of Consequence. He’s actually a very funny outgoing guy but he’s having a lot of foot problems when he’s hiking so he tends to distract himself through music and podcasts.
We had our 3rd fire in 5 days. Clean Break and I are both starting to get used to this, but we know it can’t last. Our short days will soon be over if we intend to make Springer by Christmas.
Day 6 (99), 09/28, Bear Mntn Bridge Motel 6.6
We all got up and headed to the Deli for breakfast. On the way, we ran into Mr Conspiracy. He doesn’t have FarOut on his phone so he couldn’t find the camping spot by the monks.
All 6 of us were at the deli having breakfast. This is the largest group of SOBOs I’ve been a part of this year outside of Shaw’s in Monson. CB, David, and I have reservations at Bear Mountain Bridge Motel for this evening. I think a short day will do Dave a lot in the way of recovery and I can use some rest myself.
Someone asked us if we were twins—there was no reason to insult Dave like that
After we bought enough food to get us to Greenwood Lake, we all headed out. We all agreed to let David lead since he’s a short timer. We’ve all been out here a while and generally walk by ourselves, we have time to see what’s in front of us. When you’re in a group, it’s not as much fun to be behind someone because your view is obstructed. Everyone knows Dave is testing the trail waters to see if he might want to do a larger section, or even the whole trail, someday.
There’s one drawback to putting Dave our front. Dave is a bit worried about holding everyone up because he’s overthinking things. He’s afraid he is going too slow for us. Instead, he’s going too fast to make up for it. We did discover one thing today—the person in front should have a map.
Dave had his head down trying to make good time. He missed a slightly obscured turn. We were all talking and missed it as well. About a half mile along, Pack Man and I checked our maps because we thought we should be climbing. We may have been off, but we made great time getting there!
Dave, Pack Man, and me on Anthony’s nose
Dave was a bit gun shy taking the lead again after the diversion. Everyone was very understanding and only reminded him about missing the turn about 10 times per minute. It was a short day for us. Even with the extra distance, this will still be our shortest day by far.
Pack Man is making the most of his trail experience. He pointed out a short side trail to “Anthony’s Nose”—a rock outcropping above the Hudson which is just a bit over 1/2 mile off the trail. Since Dave had already proven we’re capable of doing an extra half mile side trip, we were all in.
Quite the crew of SOBOs
Pack Man picked a good nose. There were great views of the Hudson down to the ocean and of Bear Mountain Bridge below us. This is a popular day hike, so there were plenty of people to admire us thru-hiking the AT.
Bear Mountain Bridge crossing the Hudson
We only had about a mile left to get across the bridge and get to a hotel. Other than rain, we hadn’t had showers in a week. Dave has discovered the number one requirement for succeeding on a thru-hike is a certain amount of hygiene flexibility.
Day 7 (100), (09/29) Holiday Inn, Fort Montgomery ZERO
We thought we could deal with a moderate rain. When we ran down to Dunkin Donuts for breakfast, we discovered this was much more than a moderate rain. I’d be fine with skipping today.
The tower atop Bear Mountain
We tried to stay at Bear Mountain Bridge Motel again, but, with only 4 rooms, there’s no space tonight. Clean Break and I started calling around to check on options. We ended up settling on the Holiday Inn across the street. It made it convenient for Grandpa to take us back to the trail in the morning.
It was the right call. NYC was flooding. The state declared NYC and the Hudson River Valley (where we are) disaster areas. David and I took the opportunity to get a ride to a local gear store to get some items of need.
It was an easy 3 mile walk to the road that heads into Salisbury. I tried calling my niece who is celebrating her 40th birthday, but she must have a bad hangover because she didn’t answer at 8a.
What better place to make a birthday call than from a cemetery?
My luck with hitching is not good. I didn’t even try today and just walked the half mile to downtown. I’ve always heard tits are enough to get a ride. Mine are bigger than 50% of women—maybe it’s the bald head and scraggly beard throwing my mojo off.
Climbing out of Salisbury
The coffee shop was closed. The bakery was closed. The restaurant was closed. The grocery store was open. I needed a couple more breakfasts and some coffee, so the trip won’t be a total loss. There was also a very nice deli in the back of the store which made surprisingly large subs—more than I could eat in one sitting.
Nice group out for a day hike I walked with
The credit card company told me that even though my card was cancelled, they had updated my Apple Pay and I could use it right away. They were telling the truth. Apple keeps surprising me with the things they can do. So what if they track my every movement and listen in on everything I say all the time. Constant surveillance is the price you have to pay to get a sub on credit without a card…so be it.
Giant’s Thumb
Once again, it was too nice to stay inside so I pushed on another 4 miles to the shelter. With it being a weekend, there were a lot of people out. I met a group of 3 who were hiking to Falls Village. One of them gave me a Gatorade as trail magic. I walked and talked with them all the way to the turn to my shelter.
One of many overlooks today
I’ve got reservations at Jenny’s Cabin in Falls Village for 2 nights starting tomorrow. Tonight, I hit the jackpot and got the shelter all to myself. This wasn’t a big surprise because the shelter is a half mile off trail and drops several hundred feet below the trail. Thru-hikers pretty much avoid trails that add a mile that doesn’t count.
Day 2 (88), 09/17, Falls Village (Jenny’s) 3.6
I had told Jenny I would try NOT to arrive before noon. Even though I had a party shelter all to myself, the party ended at 6:30 when I went to bed. I popped up wide awake at 4 but knew I couldn’t stretch 3.6 miles into 8 hours. I gave it that teen try and went back to bed.
At 7, I couldn’t stay in bed any longer—at least not without coffee to snuggle up to. One of my luxuries is a half liter, collapsible, sippy cup. I boil the water and then cradle the cup on cold mornings. It had gotten down to 43 last night, so, close enough.
Heron in the Housatonic—don’t eat this!
A hot cup of coffee is very similar to a mad wife—you can only snuggle so long before she/it gets cold. I was on the trail by 8:30.
This is a very popular section of trail. In only 3 miles, I ran into 9 people out day hiking. This did add at least an half hour of conversation to my morning, but I still popped out at the falls by 10.
The falls in Falls Village
I meandered further up the trail after taking lots of pictures of the falls. If I headed in the way Jenny told me to, I’d skip 0.2 miles of trail. I’m not completely pure, but this is too much missed trail to qualify in my book. I headed down the trail towards town then backtracked to add an extra 1/2 mile to my morning. I talked to the trees, pet any dogs I ran into, walked backwards uphill, and even considered crawling on the street (but didn’t). I arrived at 11 (if you squint at the watch and generously round up).
Creek running beside cabin
Two friendly dogs greeted me when I headed up the drive. I could hear a bonfire crackling in the field. I was home for the next 2 nights.
Jenny turned the fire over to her husband and showed me around. They’ve built a tiny house with a loft on the back of their property. I had this all to myself. There’s no electricity in the cabin, but there is on the porch. There’s a wonderful outside shower near the house. She has loaner clothes to wear while doing your laundry. All this for only $20/night. If there was a wood burning stove in the cabin, I could live here (assuming she would loan me at least one of the dogs).
Jenny’s Cabin
I did all my chores (laundry, shower, charging, etc) then headed the mile to the cafe for lunch. Pizza delivers to the house for supper. While I was waiting for supper to arrive, Jenny made me a s’more on the fire knowing that NOTHING ruins a hikers appetite…not even dessert before supper.
Day 3 (89), 09/18, Jenny’s Cabin, ZERO
I took the zero today because I was waiting for my new credit card to arrive. It was just a happy coincidence that it rained all day and night.
A bit of history about the area
The only drawback to the cabin is the lack of an outhouse which they are planning to install but haven’t yet. I had a talk with the chickens before I went to bed and let the rooster know I was not against chicken on my salad if he wakes up too soon. He stayed quiet until nearly 7—I’ll let it pass…this time.
Sculpture by Jenny’s mom
When the cock crowed 3 times, I got up and headed to the cafe. They have plumbing (and coffee)…I just had to figure out which comes first (final answer, coffee). I grabbed the front window and stayed all day watching the rain out the window thinking someone is definitely looking out for me pulling me off the trail on a rainy day.
Day 4 (90), 09/19, Cesar Brook Campsite 12.5
I know whoever is looking out for me is not my credit card company. The card never came. I called yesterday afternoon and had the address changed since I couldn’t stay in town another day. They told me it sometimes takes 48 hours to ship a card overnight.
The Housatonic River
I said my goodbyes to Jenny and told her I was going to have a leisurely day starting at the cafe. The miles today look pretty flat so I can head out by noon and still make my campsite before dark.
Trailhead in Falls River
I left the cafe about 11 but ran into several people willing to talk as I was leaving town. Jenny had told me I’ll hike by the high school where Allen, her husband, is the physics teacher. I was admiring the high school when a car pulled up next to me. It was Jenny delivering my new credit card that hadn’t been mailed yet. It looks like I’ve gone from no cards to two.
I only saw one other SOBO the rest of the day. He was getting water out of a puddle so I just passed him knowing that he’d pass me again very quickly. When he did pass, I said “Hi” but he barely acknowledged I had talked and kept on hiking. I’ve heard SOBOs tend to be more liner types not wanting to engage with people. He was definitely of this type.
Miles are starting to add up
“I wandered lonely as a cloud, that floats on high over val and dale when all at once, I saw” my campsite and was home for the night. Bonus points if anyone can identify the poem which I had to memorize in the 5th grade and can’t get it out of my head 48 years later.
Idyllic section of trail
I had the campsite to myself. I haven’t slept in my tent in over a week because of open shelters and town stops. It felt like I was home again.
Day 5 (91), 09/20, Mt Algo Shelter 13.9
There were surprisingly several people out today. I even met a straggling NOBO, ZipperHead who was trying to delay flipping as long as possible. He is from MA and is trying to get to his home state today so his daughter can hike with him a few days before he flips to Katahdin from the VT line.
Early morning clouds below
There’s a bridge out just before Kent. I asked everyone I ran into today heading north if they had crossed the bridge. Two people had told me they had actually crossed on the bridge but it was a “bit wonky.”
Nice spread across the river
When I finally got to it, I agreed that “wonky” was the correct description. The northwest footing had gotten completely washed away in the July floods. If there hadn’t been a tree right there, the whole bridge would have gotten washed away. I was only a mile from the shelter and my feet were dry again, so I didn’t really want to wade across the brook. I gave the bridge a test.
When I could see it would hold my weight on this end, I quickly ran across. The Brook wasn’t deep, but I just didn’t want to get wet this late in the day if I could avoid it.
A bit wonky
I got to the road leading into Kent and told myself if someone offered me a ride into town, I’d go and resupply. I wasn’t going to actively hitch. Bald fat old guys don’t do well with hitching (at least this one doesn’t). After 10 minutes of pathetic down-on-my-luck looks at passing cars, I gave up and headed to the shelter, WHICH, I had all to myself.
Day 6 (92), 09/21, Wiley Shelter 12.8
Don’t people realize summer is over? Why are there still so many day hikers? Doesn’t anybody work any more? Get a job and let me have the trail to myself. I saw at least a dozen people today
Trail runs along Housatonic River
I was surprised when I heard someone say “what’s your name again?” which is usually an indication that we’ve met before. It was a CT trail crew volunteer that I had met doing trail work when I was coming out of Salisbury.
Cabin where we stayed in ‘18
We talked for quite a while. He asked me about how I got across the Brook with the “wonky” bridge. I tried to avoid answering and when I did, he realized I had come across the bridge. He said “I wouldn’t have tried it the way it looks.” It was already on the National Parks list to be replaced before the flood. Maybe I’ll have a new one to cross when I come back in the spring.
My treat today was to cross the Bull Covered Bridge and get a few supplies to make it into Pawling. The woman who runs the store was a very nice Indian. I told her I had heard there was Indian food here thinking it was fresh. It was frozen but imported from India. I had some chicken vindaloo and an aloo vegetable dish both of which were quite delicious. It was a nice change from pizza and hamburgers.
Still used by cars
The extra 1500 calories I had were enough to get me to my shelter for the night. CT is lovely walking mostly along the Housatonic River. This is the river that GE contaminated with PCBs from its plant in Pittsfield, MA. Of course, they haven’t paid to clean it up or faced any real consequences for destroying it. Their answer is “if we clean it up, we’ll only make it worse by stirring up the PCBs.” They’ve thoughtfully posted signs all along the river to not drink the water or eat anything that comes out of the river. Isn’t corporate owned government wonderful. We need to get rid of more regulations so businesses can prosper more. People are going to die anyway. What difference does it make if it’s cancer? The price of progress and CEO wealth.
View off of covered bridge
There was another out bridge with a road walk around it before my shelter. The road walks are more dangerous than the river crossings, especially now that water levels are down. Just before the crossing, I ran into another NOBO couple, Sunshine and Scarecrow. When they sign registers, they go by Sunny and Scare.
I didn’t get the shelter to myself tonight but got to share it with a real nice guy working on a 40 year section hike of the AT. We shared a lot of our experiences. He really made me want to get out to Great Sand Dunes NP in CO.
Day 7 (93), 09/22, Pawling, NY 8.2
Yesterday I passed 2 milestones: 1) I entered NY, my 6th state, and 2) I passed the 1/3 mark of my southbound leg. My friend, David, is meeting me in Pawling tomorrow so I’ve got another easy day.
Sometimes, I forget what trail I’m on
I saw no one today other than the cook at DC Malaysian food truck. His special today was chicken curry. It wasn’t too spicy, but I swear I had almost an entire chicken’s worth of meat.
Famous silo off trail
I decided to push on one more road crossing before calling it a day. It’s supposedly easier to get into Pawling on the next road. The 3 mile section I had was primarily through a swamp. I met another hiker along this section that told me he was a frog. He seemed sane, but I was a bit skeptical. He wasn’t even green.
More boardwalks in NY than NJ
He told me FrOGS stands for Friends Of the Great Swamp. The swamp I had just crossed runs for well over 20 miles north to the 10 mile river. It’s one of the largest wetlands in NY with great biodiversity. He is on the board of governors of the swamp.
The Great Swamp crossing
The reason I chose the next road crossing is because of the tree that is there. It’s the Dover Oak and is over 300 years old. I thought that would be a great starting point for David’s first AT experience.
Contrary to what FarOut says, it is not an easy hitch into Pawling from the Dover Oak. Cars constantly gave me the “hell no” pass by nearly driving off the opposite shoulder. I got a bit ticked that Pawling claims to be a “hiker friendly” town but no one would give a hiker a ride. I walked the 3 miles into town.
How gravel is really made—rock sharks!
I went straight to the laundromat which didn’t have a bathroom for me to change clothes in. Next door is a pizza place which let me set up camp for the afternoon. I changed clothes and started my laundry before ordering food.
Once the food and clothes were done, I went to resupply. The CVS was well stocked for hikers and I got everything I needed for the first few days with David. On my way out, a guy told me I could camp at Edward Murrow park and he said follow me. I thought I was getting a ride. Maybe this is a “hiker friendly” town after all.
Flowers in town to make my walk more palatable
He walked me to the sidewalk and pointed me to the park. “It’s just about a mile down this sidewalk. You can stay anywhere in the park. It’s supposed to rainy so make sure you get a nice spot.” Then he got in his car and drove off in the direction of the park.
I walked the mile to the park. There’s a river running on the edge by a pavilion. Notes say the pavilion floods in a rain. I decided to sleep under the overhang of the Lion’s building—he told me I could stay anywhere in the park. I’m not going to investigate further when this was what I wanted to hear. There was even an outlet in my hidden corner. There’s a bathroom around the corner of the building. I’ve got everything I need.
The Willows Motel puts out a fantastic breakfast spread…many different bagels, peanut butter, cream cheese, bread, English muffins, yogurt, nuts, and 17 different fruits and berries. With all the fiber introduced today, I may have solid form tomorrow morning. I nibbled and grazed until Paul’s father took Rock and Roll and me back to the trail at 10a.
Rock and Roll from Cleveland
By 10, it was already hot. Way too hot to be New England. And hazy, too. Get your act together, Canada. We’ve done the heavy lifting by warming the planet thus giving you more snow-free land. The least you can do is learn how to handle forest fires!
Trail magic in Williamstown
It’s only a 2700’ climb up Mount Greylock, but with the heat, I’m having to stop every 100’ of elevation gain. I pop a salt tab as soon as I start climbing knowing that it’s going to drain me. I pop my second salt tab when my bandanna gets fully soaked and is only moving the sweat around my face and not absorbing anything. The gnats are swarming. I turn on the Peter Gabriel channel in my brain and zen out. I’m at peace with the world and the 7 thousand little m’fers swarming my face. Zen!
Mount Williams—first hump to Greylock
It took me almost 4 hours to climb over the two mountains and 6 miles to get to the wizard tower on the summit of Mount Greylock. I almost considered skipping the climb to the top of the tower because it was so hazy, but I’m glad I persevered. I had forgotten something critically important about the war memorial tower—it is air conditioned.
Emergency hut at base of towerFirst sight up tower peeking above the trees
I climbed the stairs to the base of the spiral stair case, set my back down, and placed my face directly in the air stream cooling off the upper tower. The smell of my body soon permeated the upper levels driving out the other visitors. I had the tower to myself. If only there was water (and I had a pee bottle), I could stay here all night.
Each direction tells what you are seeing from the towerLooking at NY—if you want to know the other directions, climb the tower. There’s a road to it.
The AC was great, but I hear ice cream calling me from Bascom Lodge at the base of the tower. I can sit in there and finish cooling off. I might even stay the night for $50. I was a bit miffed when I read the sign on the door “closed because of staffing problems.” Why not pay the workers more and suck less off the top for executives that never see the inside of the park? I gave up my AC to get sucked into politics on a hot day!
Poem to Greylock
I started strolling down the mountain towards the next shelter. Maybe since I’m out of VT, I might get a shelter all to myself. On the way down a rocky trail worthy of being mistaken as Rocksylvania, I met a gentleman slightly older than myself. Esteban told me to make his day and tell him he was near the top. I did. He was.
Esteban and me
We started chatting as I am known to occasionally do. Esteban used to live in Chicago when he first came to the US. He’s Italian by birth but has a house on the Mediterranean on the Iberian Peninsula. He also speaks 3 languages. (I am so embarrassed by our education system while one party is trying to weaken it even further by eliminating the Department of Education).
I am going to investigate this cabin more on my return trip
Either he needed a break or we’re both long winded. We ended up talking for almost an half hour. His daughter got tired of waiting on us and tried to motivate him to get moving again by heading on up the mountain. We exchanged stories and phone numbers. Chance encounters with people like Esteban are what make the journey an enjoyable experience of discovery.
Fungus high rise
My fantasy of having the shelter to myself was crushed when I was walking up to it. Cubit was already in there all spread out and relaxing. I suppose his solo fantasy was also crushed. While we were talking, Sea Turtle came in. We knew each other, but took a few minutes to remember we had met at Hikers Welcome Hostel in NH.
VT behind me
We barely had our packs off when another couple hikers showed up. Somewhere close, Chaps had found a swimming hole because he was completely soaked. With him was Pica who told me she had been about a day behind me since the Whites.
At least I know I’m not the last SOBO. Pica told me there’s maybe 20 more behind us. I’m going to have to slow down a bit more to get the trail to myself. That plays right into my wheelhouse to be a slow hiker. At least tonight I already knew 3 of the 4 other hikers. How does a hermit know so many people?
Day 2 (77), 09/06, Dalton, 13.7
Sea Turtle was up and out early because she’s meeting her boyfriend in 2 days and he’s going to finish her hike with him. Cubit is leisurely walking home to Maine; he has no schedule to follow. Pica and Chaps decided to take pity on the old man and hike with me today. Nonetheless, I took off a few minutes before them because I know they’re both faster than me and will catch me soon.
Pica, Chaps, and someone I can’t remember
It wasn’t 20 minutes before they caught up with me having a rare conversation with some NOBO section hikers from Chicago. The husband had some heart issues so his wife was very protective of his pace and distance she’d allow him to go. This was a foreign idea to me—a protective wife. I’ve heard about these but haven’t experienced it myself (and never will unless I listen to the “natural sequence” of liberal life according to Rush Limbaugh and I marry my dog when I get one).
Mushrooms are everywhere
Pica, Chaps, and I walked together the rest of the day—mainly because of the same food motivations. Cheshire was in a couple of miles and I remember a Dollar General just off the trail and an ice cream stand on the edge of town. This is the Dollar General where a local followed me all around the store in 2018 then came up to me outside to tell me how much I stunk. Very thoughtful guy. I had no idea walking in 90 degree heat for 15 miles. No such encounter today, but I was overwhelmed with their selection and bought way more than I needed. My pack was just too light.
On the others side of town was the ice cream stand. We dropped our packs in the shade and went up to it. Opening time was 11 and it wasn’t even 10. I knew I was waiting. I was planning on my first banana split of the trip. The owner saw 3 grungy hikers and came out to talk to us. She took our orders and served us before she opened. The extra 1000 calories will help with the afternoon climb.
We tried to call the flea hotel in Dalton on the way into town. They told Pica they were fully booked for tonight and tomorrow night. I tried calling to see if they were just a bit misogynistic—still booked. Chaps tried hoping for a woman to answer so he could use his charm. It was the same guy who wasn’t gay, so Chaps failed as well.
Sidewalk in Dalton
It was sweltering by my standards. Chaps is from Texas and he agreed it was on the warm side. We wanted a night of AC. Chaps and Pica started a broader search while I waffled. I had just stayed in a hotel the night before last. I might survive. In the end, I caved to peer pressure.
Best sunset in a while and it’s in town
The hotel they found was about 10 miles from Dalton. I was still considering staying in Dalton at Tom’s place even though he doesn’t let you pee in his yard. While we were walking into town, a woman drove up to us and asked if there was anything she could do to help us. Chaps said we were fine but I thought I’d push the limits and see if she’d drive us to the hotel. She agreed but said she had to unload her car first—is there somewhere she could pick us up? Chaps had declined because we wanted to go another mile. Now that excuse was gone. Peer pressure and trail magic lead to another comfortable night in a hotel for me.
Day 3 (78), 09/07, Berkshire Inn, Pittsfield, ZERO
Pica has drive and determination. Chaps desires comfort. I’m easily swayed (and forgotten). We had stayed up late soaking our feet in the pool and enjoying adult beverages while we made up back stories for all the activities happening on the street. In the end, we decided to call Fox News and expose the baby smuggling/drug ring we discovered in which Hunter Biden was a key player (we make excellent detectives). I thought for sure Pica would want to stay and witness the breakup of the ring, but her drive forced her back on the trail. Chaps wanted to see results. I was swayed to stay.
Pica’s determination cost her dearly. She didn’t witness the bust. In fairness, neither did we, but it stormed like hell the second night. So bad that the electricity went out for a few minutes which woke me up when my AC went off. I worried about her in the storm for an entire minute until the electricity and AC came back on. Drive is way overrated.
Day 4 (79), 09/08, October Mtn Shltr, 11.8
I found a local shuttle driver to drive us back to the trail at 10:30. Normally, I would have gone for 11 but I didn’t want to push the checkout limits just in case the driver was a little unreliable. He showed up at 10:20. I should have said 11.
I don’t believe in conspiracies. I don’t think there is a world cabal that is calling all the shots. I don’t think the government is trying to steal our money. The CIA isn’t trying to destroy our government. The rich aren’t coordinated in trying to control us. The rich are just acting individually out of greed thinking the one with the most when they die wins. Have you ever seen 2 more miserable SOBs than the Coch brothers. How much is enough? The same can’t be said for our driver this morning. He scared the shit out of me.
He seems to agree with the cabal’s goal of killing at least 5-6 billion people. Covid was just a failed first attempt. They’re going to wipe out the population of Africa next before they expand it to Asia. Of course, Trump holds the antidote which he will share with his supporters. The rest of us are going to be part of the third wave. I’m putting my phone back on airplane mode and not shutting it off the rest of the trip.
Just in case you get turned around
I was so freaked out, I was able to keep up with Chaps for the first 3 miles. He was thinking of going further than I planned today so he eventually kicked in his afterburners. I’m still 4-5 days ahead of schedule to meet my best friend from college in Pawling, NY so I see no need to push.
Pica made the 20+ miles to Upper Goose Pond yesterday and told us the cabin was still open and serving pancakes to hikers. I am planning on getting blueberries from the cookie lady tomorrow for blueberry pancakes on Sunday morning. I’m just thankful to be out of civilization and in airplane mode once again.
I’ve got to learn to identify these fungi
If a hiker were to make miles in a stretch, this would be the stretch to do it. This was a nearly level trail all day after the climb out of Dalton. We didn’t start until 11 and I was in the shelter by 5 including a couple of generous breaks and a stop at the cookie lady.
Free cookies ahead!
I saw Chaps across the road when I was heading to the cookie lady. He told me there were still 2 cookies for me. There wasn’t anyone home and I wanted some blueberries. I went into the garage and checked the freezer and hit pay dirt. I left a $20 in the money jar, ate my cookies, used the port-a-potty (never pass up OPP—Other People’s Paper), and grabbed 2# of frozen blueberries. I left with the exact same total weight as when I arrived.
The cookie lady’s porch—no one home but there still magic
I was a bit dismayed arriving at the shelter. The picnic table had 7 people around it. Chaps was cooking off to the side by himself. I thought the shelter was full. They assured me they were all tenting so only Chaps and me were in the shelter but sharing of the picnic table wasn’t happening. Weekends! Will I ever get a shelter to myself?
It’s not stealing if it’s on the honor system and you way overtip
Day 5 (80), 09/09, Upper Goose Pond, 8.8
The group was planning “boots on trail” at 8. Chaps and I just woke up naturally and left before 7:30. Chaps is very easy to talk to. I have told him more about all of my psychosis in the last couple of days than I’ve ever shared with anyone before. He gave me a few tools to help deal with some of my issues. It was only natural, with all he knows about me, that he’d pick up the pace and walk alone.
Nice house just off trail
Chaps talked about skipping Upper Goose Pond, but I knew I’d see him again. I had blueberries. I made sure the group of seven knew that as well. I held everyone’s breakfast over their heads—be nice or no blueberry pancakes.
Says it all
This was another easy day of hiking except for crossing the Mass Turnpike. Actually, after crossing the Turnpike, it got steep for about a half mile. The rain the last couple of nights had cooled things off. I’m from the Midwest—it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity.
Mass Turnpike has an AT walkway
At the top of the climb, I met a couple of hikers that told me they had left pizza and a banana at the cabin. This was Cookie Monster and Lawsuit. I had met them in NH about a month ago. They had finished the trail a couple weeks ago and were avoiding returning to “real life.”
That is one dedicated guard dog, he held is ground without moving an inch as I passed
When I arrived at the cabin, Chaps was already there swimming. He decided to stay once he saw the setup. He was the only one in the bunkhouse so far. I grabbed the only bed that wasn’t a bunk, anticipating the group of 7 behind us. Eventually 4 more SOBOs showed up (but they decided to tent as did the group of 7).
Upper Goose Pond cabin
One other hiker was there. I won’t mention his name because he kind of creeped Chaps and me out a bit. He had obvious mental health issues and claimed to be an ex-marine. His story just didn’t add up. I did talk to him for a while. He actually seemed nice enough and I felt a bit sorry for him. He’s obviously been through some heavy shit in his life. I think he’s living full time on the trail—not by choice, like me, but because he has no other options.
Inside of cabin
Day 6 (81), 09/10, South Mount Wilcox Shelter, 16.1
It was at Upper Goose Pond where we met our apprentice hiking couple, Bear and Sassy in 2018. Now-a-days, the grasshoppers are the masters. They are currently hiking in Sweden, Norway, and Scotland while I’m here wandering around, lost in the woods on the east coast looking for an unoccupied shelter to call home. All I remember about our first encounter with them was that Bear got the last blueberry pancake and I didn’t get any.
This turn changed the course of our lives in 2018
Breakfast started at 6:30. I checked to make sure there were still blueberry pancakes available. Happy, the caretaker, assured me there was plenty. I wanted coffee. That was gone. I’d have to wait for the next pot. I eventually got 3 mugs of coffee and all the blueberry and chocolate chip pancakes I could handle. Life is good!
Upper Goose Pond, protected from development, both land and pond
Chaps took off as soon as he got done eating. He told me he wanted to pick up his miles (and put some distance between himself and all the crazy people he’s meeting…I’m assuming I’ve revealed too much about myself). The hiker in question was going to try for the shelter in 15 miles. I set my goal for the shelter beyond to be on the safe side.
Lots of new little ones on trail today
I remember a roadside snack stand for AT hikers from 2018, but I didn’t remember where it was. I found it today. I ran into part of the group of SOBOs who stayed at Upper Goose Pond last night. They are already putting in 20+ mile days every day trying to finish the trail before Halloween. In Star Trek vernacular, they’re redshirts and are dead to me. I drank my Diet Coke and ate my Oreos while I watched them recede into death right before my eyes.
AT snack shack
Immediately after the stand is Tyringham Cobble which is a popular day hike for locals. There’s also a nice viewpoint of the town of Tyringham from a cliff side. I met a few groups of locals interested in what I was doing (and thinking I was crazy to hike from Maine to Georgia). When I told them what I was really doing they changed their viewpoints to “convinced” I was crazy.
Tyringham
It started raining, again while I was on the cobble. It rained hard enough that I broke out my umbrella again for a couple of miles. Once it reduced in intensity to a mist, I put away my umbrella, but the humidity was getting me.
Pica and Chaps had told me about a couple that they started calling “the Jones’s” because they were impossible to talk with. Rather than spend the effort trying to make conversation and extract information, they decided it was easier to create a back story for them. Tonight, I had the pleasure of sharing a shelter with the Jones’s.
I pride myself on being able to talk to anyone. This couple proved to me that I am not a conversationalist. After about 10 minutes of trying to start a conversation, I started praying for a strategic lightening strike. Fortunately, there was another occupant of the shelter who was actually interesting. I’ll say one thing about the Jones’s then let it rest. I’ve been having much more entertaining conversations with the trees with more lively interactions than these two, supposed Hobbits (Merry and Pippen).
The other occupant is a world traveler. He’s a few years older than me (64) and he’s led an interesting life having lived in China, Thailand, Europe, and South America. He’s out killing time until he heads to Thailand in November. We exchanged contact information. He’s a wealth of knowledge that I fully intent to tap.
Day 7 (82), 09/11, Great Barrington, 11.6
I was the first to leave. I didn’t even bother wasting breath saying goodbye to the Jones’s. I did sit and have a cup of coffee with Greg and have a pleasant conversation before saying goodbye. Even Greg thought they were insular to a point way beyond healthy. I hereby bequeath them back to Pica. I’m sure she has developed a much more interesting back story than they are capable of achieving on their own.
He held his ground…I was forced off the boardwalk by the brute
With the extra mileage I got yesterday, I have managed to cut another day from my schedule to meet my friend, David. I decided to just go ahead and go into Great Barrington a day earlier than planned. Mizman is going to be there this week doing volunteer trail work for the ATC. I was already planning to spend a zero in town—why not two?
Huge swamp before town
Right before I made it to the Tom Leonard Shelter, I heard the Jones’s behind me. They were obviously walking faster than me if they had caught up. I did the courteous thing and pulled off the trail to allow them to pass. Most people will say “thanks” or at least “hi” when they pass to acknowledge the gesture. I nodded to them and they didn’t even seem to notice a person was around, except for when the guy, Merry or Pippen, I don’t really give a rat’s ass at this point, passed, he did say “mumbo jumbo.” Whiskey Tango Foxtrot does that mean.
I pulled off at the shelter and took a llooonngg lunch to give them plenty of time to make distance. I hope they bypass Great Barrington and I never see them again.
The beavers are active but no one was home
The rest of the hike into town was uneventful. Just as I was getting to the road and thinking about trying to hitch into town, I took my phone out of airplane mode. Not 10 minutes earlier, Mizman had texted me and told me he was in town and if I needed anything, text him.
Days 8,9 (83,84), 09/12,13, TraveLodge, ZEROs
Mizman hadn’t even met his work crew when he texted me. Twenty minutes after I arrived at the road, we were sitting in a brewery having a burger and a beer. The trail (and Mizman) provides.
The final stretch into town along the Housatonic River
I was going to camp with the work crew in the community center, but I really wanted AC. Mizman stopped at the TraveLodge for me to see if I could get a deal. The owner was really cool and gave me a great deal for a 3 night stay. I’m in for AC and a double zero.
Thanks GE
Mizman worked days while I did my town chores and we spent suppers and evenings catching up again. I had a pool at my hotel that no one seemed to ever use, so we spent some time out there. He also offered me use of his truck during the day, but I haven’t driven for months and didn’t want to risk it with all these Massholes on the road.
Day 10 (85), 09/14, Hemlocks Shelter, 8.0
I had planned to sleep in today but ended up getting up by 7. I went ahead and packed up and headed to McDonald’s for breakfast. There’s a bus stop right there that will take me to within a couple miles of the trail.
Heading out
I ordered breakfast and grabbed a table. When I sat down, I noticed another hiker. It was Pack Man. I hadn’t seen him since he spent the night on the Glastonbury fire tower. He had gotten into town the day after I did. He did camp at the community center.
When I got done, I caught the bus according to my plan. I headed out to the highway and tried to hitch back to the trail. Fat, bald hitchhikers are not prime pickup targets. I gave up after 10 minutes and headed to the Great Barrington Bagel Co for another cup of coffee and a bagel to change my luck. It did the trick. They comped my bagel and coffee. With the added good luck, I caught a ride as soon as I went back out.
Looking back towards town
The trail out of Great Barrington is absolutely lovely. There hasn’t been enough rain recently to make things muddy. Not too far out of town is a memorial to the last battle of Shay’s Rebellion. After the Revolutionary War, the young government needed money so they raised taxes—predominantly on the poor farmers who had neglected their farms to fight in the war. Many of them ended up losing their farms in the process (sound familiar?—screw the poor, the rich need a break: some things never change).
Last Battle of Hayes Rebellion
I had already decided on a short day. I took a break on the ledges above Mount Bushnel. I remembered coming over these ledges in a windy rain and being afraid of being blown off in 2018. Today I could sit and enjoy the view. While I was sitting, Pack Man showed up.
Rock Ledges heading out of state…I remember almost being blown off these in 2018
He’s only 18 hiking the trail. I sure didn’t have balls enough to try this when I was his age. We sat and talked for a while until he headed on. I called my brother while I had signal.
Nice lake below
My goal always was Hemlocks Shelter. I’m trying to kill time to let everyone pass me. I’m bound and determined to start having shelters to myself. Tonight looked like it was the night. I got there about 5 without having seen anyone other than Pack Man today. It’s a Thursday so there shouldn’t be weekenders out. I unpacked and spread out.
Hemlocks Shelter
I started hearing noises in the woods above the shelter. They seemed to be coming from the privy. People are supposed to latch the doors when they’re done to keep wildlife from getting in. It sounded to be a pretty big animal trying to get out. Great, a bear has gotten trapped and now I’m going to have to hold my shit in the morning. I started checking my map—it’s 5 miles to the next privy. I’ve had a lot of town food, but I should be able to make it.
I was in the shelter when the noise abruptly stopped. I was getting ready to look around the corner when Pack Man emerged. He was brown blazing—no bear. I’m not scared of bears, I’m scared of unrequited morning urgency. He was going to try for another 6 miles tonight. I talked him out of it since it was so late. I’ll eventually get my shelters.
Day 11 (86), 09/15, Riga Shelter, 9.5
I’m thinking Pack Man regretted spending the night with me. It was finally cool enough that I didn’t sweat in my quilt. I’d taken 50 mg of Benadryl. I was pretty relaxed. I must have snored like hell last night. He didn’t stir as I ate breakfast and packed up.
My goal for today is to get into Connecticut. I’ve only got to get over a couple more mountains in MA and I’m there. However, first up is Mt Everest’s little brother, Mt. Everet. It wasn’t as difficult as I remembered it being.
There’s only so many tricks with a yo-yo
When I got to the summit, there were two other old guys there. I noticed we all made it to the top without supplemental oxygen. I know from personal experience that supplemental oxygen climbing Everest is quite expensive. When I went to Nepal in 2009, it cost an extra $16,000 on top of the $60,000 package/permit fees. At least that’s what the wife of an Everest expedition member told me. I was just hiking the Annapurna Circuit.
Mt Everet
The border between MA and CT is a wonderful valley with an old growth Hemlock Forest—Sages Ravine. I had nearly forgotten this gem. I took my time and enjoyed the quiet beauty all to myself.
Beautiful Hemlock forest
There’s a possible place to stay in Salisbury that I was contemplating staying at, but the day was just too nice to go into another town. I chose to stay at Riga shelter. When I got there, to my surprise, it was a brand new handicap accessible shelter. It still had that new shelter smell of fresh cut wood vs. the usual urine, stale fart, hiker smell that comes with age.
Such a peaceful valley
I was overlooking a valley below with towns so I thought I’d check to see if I had cell signal. I wish I hadn’t checked. Someone has stolen my credit card information and my card was canceled. While I was dealing with this, another couple came in. No shelter, no card, but plenty of stress. I’m doubling my Benadryl tonight.
The stay at Wicked Wayside couldn’t have started any better. While the owner was showing me around, we saw 2 black bear cubs dart across the road and into the forest. They had been eating apples that had fallen off her trees and something spooked them (I didn’t think my farts were that loud).
On my full zero, I just totally chilled and got my music fix for a while (Peter Gabriel, Talking Heads, and Elton John). I also texted my niece in Hawaii and talked to my brother.
Day 1 (73), 09/02, Glastonbury Mountain, 12.2
I knew I was going for a short day. My choice was to leave at 7, 8, or 10. When I’m town, always choose the latest possible departure time to maximize civilization. I didn’t leave until 10.
I still can’t get used to having bridges
I ran into Pack Man right away. I hadn’t seen him since our second day on the trail when we encountered the flooding in Baxter. I had no idea what had happened to him. Spoiler alert—he’s alive and well.
Interesting hollow burl—if only I were closer to home, I’d carry it out.
I also met my trail twin—clothes twin at least. We had the same shirt and shoes. He hiked in 2003. The hiker formerly known as Food Lion has been the caretaker at Horn Pond and a trail runner for 2 years around Boiling Springs, PA.
My trail twin…I didn’t know it was blue bandanna day
Since I have a Scottish connection, I do talk to most men I see in kilts (not my type, personally—the men or the kilts…I still prefer women (in spite of my history—not ready to switch teams, yet) and pants. Not women in pants. Pants for me. Women can wear (or not wear) whatever they like). Lego Man is from NH and does IT for NH national guard. He’s figured out how to take time off and accrue active duty time while working in a semi-civilian position. We talked quite a while about trails we have hiked and want to hike around the world. I think we both need a couple more lifetimes.
Just a reminder that we are on the Long Trail AND Appalachian Trail
I also met ER doc from New Mexico carrying a gun. It didn’t come up right away as in “back off creepy dude…I’ve got a gun!” but it is a concession she made to her husband to hike the trail alone. She has been chased and had close calls in the past, but like the single women who picked us up while hitchhiking in OR, she didn’t get the serial killer vibe from me (and she was nice enough to not point out that I wasn’t good looking enough to be a serial killer).
Quite a beaver damAnd his McMansion
Pack Man joined the conversation with the ER doc. We agreed to meet on the closed tower on Glastonbury. When I actually climbed the tower with missing stairs, he was surprised. He didn’t think the old man could climb up to the second level after the FAA removed the lower stairs. In spite of being underestimated, again, I handed him his pack so he could sleep on the tower while I satisfied myself by sleeping in my tent on the ground. It turned out to be a very windy and, at times, rainy night.
Pack Man and me on Glastonbury Fire Tower
Day 2 (74), 09/03, Clangdon Shelter, 14.7
I’ve noticed my brain is recovering. I purposely do not listen to anything while hiking and limiting my phone access at all other times—I am able to multiprocess like I used. At least I’m starting to. There was a time I could keep 3 channels open and processing simultaneously. It was great for tests. I would read test questions before answering (unless they were multiple choice). I would pick the one or two hardest questions that required more analysis and then set them on a background process while I’d work on the rest of the test. By the time I got back to the questions, I’d have them figured out. Today, I noticed I could play music (on a background channel for mood), have a discussion with myself, and still communicate with the forest. The iPhone has been my downfall in productivity and creativity.
Glastonbury Fire Tower
I only saw 2 NOBOs today but dozens of LT hikers. I had no idea the Long Trail was so popular. I was really hoping to have fewer people on the trail so I’d be distracted less and walk more. I’m still looking for my 5 mpd bump in distance.
Fungus high rise
Mr Green and Cardivana called out to me. I had met them at Wicked Waystation a couple days ago. They had left pizza in the fridge and said I could have it if I wanted. Out of respect for their generosity, I didn’t eat the pizza until they were getting in the car headed towards the trail. They live in Erwin, TN and told me to stop by when I get there.
The trail passes through the aptly named “split rock”
The trail was pretty dry. I’ve heard people say they have come through VT when this was the case, but I only thought they were BSing me. Every time prior to now that I have been in VT, it’s been raining. Conditions today were fantastic. Even with my late start, I made it to camp, set up, filtered water, and cooked by 7:30.
Pretty accurate mileages—this must be new
Often times, I don’t remember a shelter by name, but I do recall it when I see it. This shelter is where we camped with Mizman in ‘18. I just talked to him a couple days ago and I’m going to see him again in Great Barrington in about a week.
Clangdon shelter but there were already 3 LT hikers so I tented
Day 3 (75), 09/04, Williamstown, MA, Willows Motel, 14.2
I wasn’t expecting to see anyone today since it’s Labor Day. I figured all the LT hikers would have started on Friday or Saturday. Instead, I saw 15 LT hikers still starting today, but only 1 NOBO who is still planning on making Katahdin without flipping. He was French (they are competitive hikers by birth), so he might make the 600 miles in the next 5 weeks (but I’d bet against it).
This tree grew diagonally until it found an open patch and then shot straight up
I found a beautiful stealth spot for my return trip by the new Seth Warner Shelter. I decided to keep this to myself, but not an hour later, I met a couple trying to decide where to camp for the night. I spilled the beans. I hope they keep their mouths shut.
I hope this spot is open when I return
As hot as it was, I met a runner at the state line who was enjoying the completion of another state. I was about to ask her to take my picture at the line, but she had already gone. For the record, I crossed out of VT at 3:11p on 9/4/23…Labor Day.
I know the consultation was free, but your fat and slow just sounds like an insult not an analysis
MA gives NOBOs a sampler of what’s ahead; boulder scramble (NH), mud (VT), and tree roots (ME) in the final 4 miles of the state. Just enough like an appetizer leaving you wanting more. If you get a full size serving of each, it would just be too much.
Patch of mud at the start of the Ling Trail doesn’t help their image
It was way too hot today. I popped 2 salt tabs because I was sweating so much. Then the gnats started swarming. I wasn’t planning to, but I broke down and headed into town and got a hotel room. I needed AC and a shower (pizza and wine were unplanned bonuses).
Crossing into Williamstown with my next obstacle (Greylock) hovering above.
I keep getting warnings of terrible mud ahead, but it looks like Vermont is in a drought to me.
Day 1 (67), Sun 08/27, Gov Clement Shelter, 10.6
I think I’ve joined a cult. I’m weak. They put a plate of eggs in front of me and told me to eat them. I hate eggs. I ate them. They’ve got control of me and I didn’t even read any of the literature. I knew this would happen. My best “out” will be when they make me turn over my assets and discover I don’t have any, they’ll kick me out.
Beware of…porcupines!
They were really nice. I could’ve lost my soul, but the deli was closed down “for remodeling”. As I recall, the source of the Boulder Wildfire was traced to the local Yellow Deli and they are being sued for the billions of dollars of damage that caused. They (the almighty They who are suing the Yellow Deli) are trying to say all the Yellow Delis are actually just one entity and THEY are going after all their assets. This Yellow Deli is quietly giving away their assets one roll of tp at a time.
Churchill Scott Shelter—I didn’t know of Winston and George C’s connection
I was in the common room trying to find the TV remote, but first I had to find the TV (🎶“no outside voices here”🎶). One of the caretakers came by and gave me a roll of toilet paper. When I went back to my bunk, there was another roll there. I’ve got tp coming out of my ass. (I’ve quit using my wet wipes because of the mouldering privies so maybe it’s not coming out of my ass but just stuck there—either way, I’ve got plenty of tp).
Some things never change
Sadly, there are plenty of dirt bag “hikers” that are taking advantage of this hiker hostel. I’m pretty sure homeless people have figured out that they can stay for free, without any pressure, if they can find an old backpack. They’ve already got the hiker smell down.
Top of Killington—Cooper Lodge
There was no pressure to join or read the literature, but there was a standing, open invitation to visit the farm. A few did. A few said they wished they had more time. The majority got out after 1 or 2 days. The imposter hikers had been there for weeks. Myself, I bought fuel for my stove, left a $30 tip, and caught the 9:15 free bus to the trail.
Green of the Green Mountains
The trail continued to be beautiful in spite of all the dire warnings of “mud, terrible mud, so much mud” I got from every NOBO hiker I passed. I stepped around a few muddy patches and decided to have lunch at 1st shelter—it had been almost 2 1/2 hours since I last ate.
I see zero mud—the trail is not the end of the world
On the way of to Killington Summit, I ran into a girl that seemed familiar. Her name was trooper. She was hiking the Long Trail NOBO. We had met at the Yellow Deli yesterday just as I was arriving. She’s walked all the trail south of here to the Massachusetts border and told me the mud was about like this all the way—about 1/4 of the trail has mud. By my 2018 experience, Vermont is in a drought.
Hashes are good, but USGS is the gold standard
I met probably another 7-8 people I’d met at the Yellow Deli throughout the rest of the day. Most of them had ignored me at the YD but now they realized I was a SOBO and could answer their burning questions: no you’re not going to die, The Whites are not that bad; cut your mileage expectations in half through The Whites; resupply in Norwich rather than Hanover; stay at The Cabin, Maine Roadhouse, and Shaw’s in Maine; there’s a good hundred miles of Maine you can make time up on; the rivers are all down, you’re going to have to do something really stupid if you’re going to die in the Whites or Maine, but I have faith in you.
Governor Clement Shelter
I ran into Shamrock again, he was slack-packing today. We originally met in The Whites and then bumped into each other again at the YD. He will finish his hike when he makes it back up to Franconia Notch. He was with the Green Mountain Club ridge runner.
Me and Shamrock
I was considering going further than Governor Clement Shelter but there was something too appealing that kept me there. The shelter had chairs—real chairs with backs and 4 legs. I took one to my camping area and used it to set up camp, cook, and just sit in. It was a forgotten bit of civilization that made it out to camp. Life is good.
Notice the chair outside of my tent-/I’m becoming domesticated again
Day 2 (68), Greenwall Shelter, 14.9
Easy walking for the first 7 miles. I’m still looking for the terrible mud but I’m missing it. Maybe my tolerance has built up after coming through the wettest month in Maine’s history.
No mud here!
When I started my decent into Clarendon Gorge, I ran into an old guy coming uphill sweating bad and complaining about how hard the Long Trail was. He was telling me he and his 74 year old father had planned on hiking the entire LT, but it was too hard on his old father. He was worried about putting so much stress on his dad. They have changed their minds and will be happy with making it to Rutland and 100 miles. A few minutes later, the dad emerged from the ascent. He looked strong (and actually younger than his son). The first thing he said was “give me back my walking sticks.” The son gave him the sticks and headed on. I talked to the dad for a bit. It’s true, he’s 74 and from Kent. He’s lived in the US for 38 years but needs to go back to England to take care of his 96 year old mother. He didn’t even appear to be sweating. I’m wondering who was truly struggling.
Less than 1700 miles to GA
Also this morning, I immediately hit it off with another NOBO—Conductor. We both noticed the commonalities when we were talking. We eventually got around to figuring out we were both automation engineers. Then we discovered we both worked for Bridgestone at the same time. We started naming off everyone we both knew. Geoff Hobe still works for Bridgestone in Akron but I’m on full time “run away from work” mode.
Suspension bridge across gorge
Clarendon Gorge has changed in my memory. I swear the river was running in the opposite direction. Water has been doing tricky things on the trail this year. It was still an amazing experience going over the suspension bridge.
Clarendon Gorge with swimmers
Honestly, Vermont trails have been fantastic. Maybe going through The Whites first changes one’s perspective on the rest of the trail. I made it to Minerva Hinchey Shelter just before 5. I really wanted to start putting in 15 mile days to see if I’m even capable of longer distances. It was less than 5 miles to the next shelter. I should be able to make it before dark.
People have been complaining about trail not being marked well in this area—notice the turn sign on the bridge itself
Less than 1 mile out from Minerva, it started to rain. I looked at the sky and it didn’t look to be too dark. It couldn’t last long. About a mile later, the rain still hadn’t let up. The trees were doing their part to keep me dry, but I just got the feeling I should get out my umbrella.
Sporting my umbrella once sgain
No sooner did I get it rigged up did the skies really let go. Once again, I was spared from the worst. It poured the rest of the way to camp. The final part was 0.8 miles up 800’ and I was feeling pretty tired. I made it to the side trail to the shelter just before dark. I needed to get water on the way in so I dropped my pack and grabbed 4 liters. When I put my pack back on, it was pitch black.
Glow in the dark fungus
I could see stones in the trail enough that I might be able to follow the trail without falling (my headlamp was buried in my pack). It was supposed to be less than 0.2 miles to the shelter, but I still hadn’t made it by 8. I couldn’t see a thing and I was heading downhill. I tried using my phone flashlight but that only made my vision worse.
I added the AT symbol
I was directly in front of the shelter before I even saw it. There were already two hikers in the shelter. They only asked one question: “Do you snore?” I lied and said I don’t know. I was hoping I’ve lost enough weight that I’m a quiet sleeper. One of the hikers offered earplugs to the other. He said “ I hate them. I have hiking poles if he snores.” I’m getting stabbed in my sleep tonight.
Day 3 (69), Peru Peak Shelter, 14.5
Mr Considerate, as I call the earplug hating hiker, answered one question definitively—I do, in fact, snore. I didn’t get stabbed. He chose a much subtler approach to wake me up. He slammed his hand on the floor making sure no one got any sleep which included the hiker quietly sleeping with his earplugs in.
Rock Garden but it appears to have been vandalized
When he got up at 6, he started bitching about his terrible night and complaining about everything I was doing. It was obvious he wanted a confrontation, so I stayed in my bed ignoring him and refusing to engage in any conversation until he was gone. With any luck, he’s a NOBO and I’ll never see him again. He’s definitely tainted enough to be a NOBOu who’s tired of the trail.
They didn’t destroy them all
The other occupant of the shelter was Knees. He’s trying to hike the VT section of the AT and this is just his second day. I apologized for keeping him up with my snoring. He told me it wasn’t my snoring that kept him awake. He had earplugs.
I’m amazed by all the trail bridges—coming through Maine first really does change your perspective
Knees was next to leave. I was still in bed but just about done with breakfast. It didn’t take me long to get ready and head out. It had rained most of the night but I didn’t think the trail was too bad. I was feeling pretty good and making great time (in excess of 2mph).
Finally, some mud in the trail
I saw someone in front of me stumbling along. Their pack seemed to be very crooked. When I caught up to him, it was Knees. I helped him adjust his pack to help his balance a bit. He said he was not enjoying the trail because of the mud and terrain. I admitted a lot of people have been complaining about the trail, but to just remember that the suck is temporary. I wished him luck and headed on.
Abandoned mining village
Not too far along from Knees I saw another hiker heading south. This surprised me because I’ve met almost every SOBO and know where they are (approximately). This must be a Long Trail hiker. When I caught up to him, it was none other than Mr. Considerate. I thought I’d try to be nice and see if he’d come around. I was, he wouldn’t. He is just an ass in my humble opinion. I just blew by him and hoped that I’d never see him again.
One of several stream crossings today
Little Rock Pond was only 5 miles into my day but I had been making great time and needed a break to refuel to keep up my pace. I found a beautiful spot lakeside to enjoy my break. I was almost done when Mr. Considerate passed me and said “nice spot.” Before I could respond, he’d already left. I was afraid we might keep bouncing into each other all day, but I never saw him again.
My first break spot at Little Rock Pond
I had been warned there are a few bridges that the forest service has closed after the flooding. Between me and the shelter, I encountered my first such bridge deemed “not safe” according to the sign tacked to it. It looked good to me. It was only at most a 5’ fall. I was tired. There wasn’t a tremendous amount of water. The falls below the bridge was only about 3’. I didn’t see a camera. I went for it (spoiler alert—I survived).
Another closed bridge—this one I honored
It was almost dark. It looked like I might have the shelter all to myself. At least it looked promising that Mr. Considerate might not show up. It’s been a while since I’ve had a shelter to myself. If rain weren’t in the forecast, I’d rather set up my tent. I staked out my end and did all my chores. Just as I was eating my supper, I heard a massive figure behind me (I was watching the trail from the south because that was my biggest concern). It was either a bear or a NOBO. Didn’t matter which. My peace was about to be destroyed.
Day 4 (70), Spruce Peak Shelter, 12.9
I woke up several times through the night expecting rain. At 3:30, I was getting irritated that I’d been suckered again by the rain forecasters, but the rain did come through by 4, and how! It was still raining at 7 when I started my coffee. Still raining at 8 when I was done eating and started packing up. Still raining at 9 when I visited the privy. When I put my pack on at 9:30 deciding I couldn’t put it off any longer, the rain stopped. Someone is watching over me!
Now that’s a bridge!
Styles Peak was only 3 miles in and a likely spot for me to have cell service. When I got there, I called Green Mountain House Hostel to make reservations for tonight and tomorrow night. They didn’t answer, then I saw a note in FarOut that they were closed for the season as of today. This was a wrench in the works for me. I tried calling hotels in town, but they all wanted 3x what a hostel would cost and I wanted to take a day off. If I’m going to get a zero, it won’t be in Manchester Center.
Marble Quarry across from Styles Peak
I noticed a new hostel in about 27 miles and called them. They had space and were in my price range so I booked space for tomorrow night and the next. If I can put in a 20 mile today, I could be there by noon tomorrow. It was a long shot at best. Worst case, I’ll be there by dark.
Lots of boardwalks in dry areas—just shows they are effective at restoring the trail over time.
Things started looking up for me when I made it to Mad Tom Notch Rd. It appeared there might be trail magic in the parking area just off trail. Usually, people will put up a sign or flag down passing hikers. They did neither when I walked up. I pretended to be confused and was checking my phone in the hopes they might notice me. After a couple of minutes, one of the girls yelled “hey hiker, want some food?” Silly question, but I was in.
Full bloom
Scoops had finished her thru-hike on August 5 and was out trying to find some people she knew early on in her hike. She had found one and was deep in conversation catching up when I got to the trailhead. Since they were talking and not paying attention to me, I was able to consume a lot more calories unnoticed. I was glad she had found a friend. I spent almost an hour chowing down and occasionally getting in a comment. When I was full, I thanked her and pushed on.
Scoops (on right) paying back after her hike.
Bromley Mountain was where I had hoped to stay last night but didn’t have the miles in me. It’s a mountain top of a ski range but they leave a warming hut open for thru-hikers. There’s electricity and a clothes dryer but no water. I had to settle for a long lunch with a bunch of NOBOs. When a group of high school kids came up top, I decided it was time to move on.
Seems a bit of overkill for a trail marker at top of Bromley
I’d spent a lot more time on the phone, eating trail magic, and visiting on Bromley than I had planned on. My 20 was not a possibility. My original day was only supposed to be 10 miles. I guess I had already spilled the beans to my legs and I could only squeeze an additional 3 out of them before they refused to work any more.
Warming hut on Bromley
Several hikers had told me this shelter was nice. In return, I told them about trail magic ahead. A win-win for all parties. When I arrived, the shelter looked deserted, but when I opened the sliding door, I found a father and son playing cards. The son was only 6. I thought they might just be day hikers, but they are finishing up the AT after having done about 2/3 of it last year.
Scenic overlook coming down Bromley. The dog approached me frantically. His owner was smoking pot and eating ALL of the treats.
The son was well behaved and quiet. We all ate and headed to bed at the witching hour of 8. I could hear them talking and playing under their quilt but I didn’t mind. By 9, they were both asleep. Around 10, another hiker showed up. I’ll just say, he had no “inside voice” and didn’t know how to turn on his red light on his headlamp. I was a bit irked at being woken up, but relieved to have someone else in the shelter to blame the snoring on.
Day 5 (71), Kelly Stand Rd, 14.7
Town day equals extra speed and I’m definitely going to need it since I overslept. A fully enclosed shelter on a cold night is great except I was the first up at ten to seven. Two little windows don’t let in a lot of light.
Turns out, I’m a charter member
The hiker who came in at 10 last night got up a few minutes after me. I’d met a couple yesterday who told me I’d meat an old guy who is slow but gets in 15 miles every day. He also hiked the trail in 1997. This was the guy. What they didn’t tell me was that he had a smaller bladder than me and would get up every hour all night long. That didn’t bother me, but the sliding door on ungreased rails did. However, I held none of this against him.
I fell into mud trying to climb a hill to skirt it—ironically, my feet didn’t get wet even though the rest of me did…mission accomplished
I hate deadlines. They’ve always stressed me. I have a deadline, of sorts, today. I’ve made plans to stay at Wicked Waystation and I don’t want to arrive after dark. The terrain doesn’t look bad to me, but I didn’t start until after 8. My first 15 mile day ended up with me getting in after dark. I didn’t want a repeat today.
Look up to look right
At 10:30, I took a break and checked my progress. I was well over 4 miles in. I set a goal of making it to Stratton Pond Shelter for a lunch break at 12:30–that’s over 8 miles of my nearly 15 for the day. If I make that, there’s a good chance I’ll make my pickup location before dark.
Looking down tower to trail
Chris, who I had met in Norwich, was at the Stratton Pond Shelter. I thought I was going fast but here’s a guy that’s only been out a week, ahead of me. Turns out, Chris is not into purity. He’s just out for a month testing “the hiking waters” to see if he likes it. We caught up with events of the last week while we climbed Stratton Mountain and its fire tower.
View from Stratton fire tower
Stratton Mountain is the tallest mountain on the AT in southern Vermont. This was where James Taylor, in his first incarnation, came up with the idea for the Long Trail in 1909. In his second incarnation, this life, he’s a folksy musician. Legend has it that in his third incarnation, he will assume the role of destroyer (everyone keep thinking of the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man when you hear news of the current James Taylor’s death).
Ski area on Stratton
From the top of the fire tower, I called for 5:30 pickup. Chris and I said goodbye and exchanged contact info. I had to get down the mountain fast to catch my ride. I was down by 5:10. This was my fastest 16 mile day yet—9 hours with 3 nice breaks. If I can get a plus 5 kick after Mt Greylock in Massachusetts, I might make it to Georgia by Christmas.
Who’d have thought Vermont would have great, dry hiking trail?
Day 1 (62 cont.), Tues 8/22, Norwich Inn, 1.5
Since I’ve mentioned them several times and I’ve known them for almost 200 miles, let me introduce Clean Break and Sock Pile
After I finished my town chores and made my last NH blog post, I headed out for my free pizza. As soon as I walked up to Ramunto’s Brick and Brew, I saw Sock Pile and Clean Break. I bought them beers to drink while I ate my pizza. In return, they invited me to spend the night on their B&B floor since it was getting late.
Entering our third state—Vermont
It was a mile and a half walk across the river and into our third state to get to their B&B. It was a super nice place—way above my level of welcome (nice places tend to shun me). To show their awareness of my plight, they were advertising about homeless people outside—these are my people, minus the super crazy (mildly crazy, I’m fine with).
Maybe I can do more than “a little” crazy
Day 2 (63), Wed 8/23, Thistle Hill Shelter, 13.1
A floor in a hotel is still much more comfortable and sleep inducing than a shelter. I was able to let my arms touch the floor without fear of spider bites. (My arm is still not right after the spider bite I got in Carter Notch Hut almost 3 weeks ago…I can put pressure on it again, but I have a swollen pocket of fat on my elbow. I’m afraid I’m going to wake up one morning with thousands of spiders crawling out of my elbow. I still haven’t gotten any superpowers! I don’t see any benefit to being bitten. Hollywood lies!)
Since I brought it up…
I woke up at 6a as usual these days. I wasn’t quite ready to pack up and go so I decided if I peed, I could sleep another hour before packing up. Once I stood up, I realized I was inside and would be required to use a toilet rather than peeing on Clean Break’s pack (which would have benefited from the ammonia). I fell sound asleep and didn’t wake up again until after 8.
I the “Cookie Lady of the North” bakes fresh cookies daily for thru-hikers
The local coffee shop was closed so I settled on donuts and a breakfast sandwich from Dave and Whitts (the local grocer). There was a group of NOBOs hanging out in front. Of course, they mistook me as a section hiker because I was clean and shaved. If a woman is clean shaven, she’ll still get the benefit of the doubt, but not old men.
Waterfall in Norwich
One of the NOBOs was interested enough to ask pertinent questions about The Whites. I was giving him information about the AMC pass, stealth spots, resupply strategies, and unknown information about the huts (like buying supper at Lake of the Clouds). One of the other know-it-all NOBOs told him not to listen to what I was saying, all the information he’ll need can be gotten at Hiker’s Welcome Hostel and to me “Don’t you have a lot of miles to go? It’s time for you to get going.” I was floored and momentarily pissed, but I didn’t let my anger show. I looked at him, blinked twice, wished them all happy trails, and took off. There was more prior interaction when I was trying to explain the AMC pass. I don’t wish him ill, but I won’t be upset when I hear about a hiker getting fined $500 in The Whites.
Friendly benches at the first overlook in VT
Today was the start of the last bubble (hopefully) and my impression of the majority I met today was less than favorable. I met a girl with her earbuds in who clearly looked at me and saw me talking (“congratulations on your entry into NH”). She didn’t even acknowledge that I said anything—just stared at me and walked by.
Lots of old dry-stack walls line the trail—very European in feeling
I met another group that acted pretty much the same way. I just said “hi” and they just stared at me and didn’t say a word. The last guy at least said “hi, happy trails” to me.
SOBOs are tops this year
Happy Hill Shelter would have been my target for last night. Instead, I stopped in there for a snack break. I ran into Chris who I had met this morning at Dave and Whitts. One of the NOBOs had dissed him this morning because he is just starting a section hike today. We talked for a while before he moved on. I still had some unfinished business from my quick departure from the B&B.
Captain Stashallows free camping in his yard
I ran into Chris again at the Blue Barn in West Hartford. We had a cold soda with Linda (the trail angel/owner). We also met a couple of friendly NOBOs while there. It was refreshing after this morning’s interactions to see there are still decent people out. Chris decided to push on the additional 5 miles with me to Thistle Hill Shelter.
Chris and I enjoy the view
It was almost dark by the time we arrived. I set up my tent and got inside to cook and get ready for bed. I had promised Chris some Benadryl to help him sleep, but forgot it until way past hiker midnight. He’s going to be hurting tomorrow doing 13 miles on his first day.
History here from 2018…this privy has been relocated to Thistle Hill
Day 3 (64), Thurs 8/24, The Lookout, 14.9
Soho, Chris, and I were the last ones out. I gave Chris a sleeve of Benadryl and wished him luck. I’ve bought a 1/2L of Sauvignon Blanc to drink while I watch the sunset from the deck on top of the Lookout. She’s calling me.
A beautiful new day
There were noticeably fewer NOBOs (10 ish) today. I understand they are stressed from being so late in the season. The ones willing to talk wanted good intel on The Whites and what to expect. I shared what info I could pass on in a couple of minutes. A few were concerned about the Presidentials so I shared the plan I’m going to follow on my return which only requires 3 meals to be carried.
Calamine and Inspector were among the last couple of NOBOs I saw today. We hit it off and talked for quite a while. They gave me intel on new hostels down south that aren’t officially open yet but accepting hikers. They are artists and have been trading their talents for “work for stay”—they painted a mural in a new hostel in Harpers Ferry that I plan on seeing.
What can I say other than an idyllic walk in the woods
“On the Edge” farm market was 9 miles into my day. It’s close to the trail so I thought I’d drop in for a non-dehydrated snack. They had pints of ice cream which caught my eye. After my dismal trial run of eating 3 pints at Hikers Welcome Hostel (it took me two sittings to down), it’s obvious I need to practice more to improve my game. It’s only 600 miles to the “half gallon challenge.” I started slow with just a single pint, but the extra calories (and turbo output) should help propel me the final 6 miles to The Lookout.
On the Edge farm store
Groundhog had stopped and talked with me while I was having a snack at a Brook. He had The Lookout all to himself last night. I was hoping for the same luck tonight. The best laid plans…
Flood damage from recent rains…foundation of bridge is washed out
When I finally made it to the shelter, I found 7 NOBOs already there. It was almost dark and threatening rain. As soon as I stepped on the porch, the threat became reality. No sunset. No sitting on the upper deck. No isolation.
Just your average mountain brook
In the end, I became a pariah. I set up my bed but ate supper alone on the porch. I even stayed up late to drink my wine, in the dark, listening to the rain. Talk about being outside of the social norm—I had the audacity to stay up until nearly 9p. Thru-hikers don’t stay up that late. I’m clean shaven. Maybe I am a section hiker.
Day 4 (65), Fri 8/25, Clifford Woods State Park, 14.3
There’s a few problems with The Lookout. There’s no water, so you have to carry it in with you. I carried 4 liters of water 3 miles. But the bigger problem is no privy. I was looking at carrying that load 7 miles if I wasn’t interested in digging a hole in the rain. I wasn’t.
The Lookout…maybe next year I’ll get my sunset
It rained all night. There is a fireplace and one of the guys had built a fire so that was cozy. I woke up at 6, checked my elbows for new spider bites, and peed off the porch for the 4th time. I heard the NOBOs checking the weather and claiming the rain will stop by 10. I can wait to get up and the urgency for anything else wasn’t bad.
Memorial to the hiker who drowned in the flooding last month
I’ve discovered new things about my body. I used to think I had a “morning window” to take care of business. I’ve now come to understand that when the urgency wains, the need hasn’t. By the time I left at 9:30, the urgency was gone, but I knew this period was the “danger zone.” All releases must cease or ruin could follow.
I thought rebar was giving up on trail building—an extension ladder!
With tears in my eyes, I proceeded as fast as I could. In other words, not very fast because waddling was part of the gate. I didn’t make it to safety until nearly 2p. To my amazement, the effort was worth it to be a part of the early christening of a new moldering privy at Stony Brook Shelter Shitter.
The Green Mountain Club is putting up lots of new signage
The rest of the day was blissful and wet. No, I’m not incontinent, too. It was raining. It rained all day. It rained so hard that the trees couldn’t protect me and I had to get out my umbrella again. I passed a few weekend hikers with one in particular that seemed pissed at me for using an umbrella. He screamed “it’s a waste of time. You’re still going to get wet.” I didn’t think he was much of a backpacking authority since he was carrying his sleeping pad and bag in his arms because his pack was too small. Say what you will, my underwear was still dry so my ass wasn’t sticking to my pants.
Boardwalk and….More boardwalk to…Thunder Falls
It was another late night getting into camp. I somehow missed the state park office and walked a half mile past. There was no way I was going back downhill that far. My priority became finding the bathroom and then finding someplace close to that to stay. There was a shelter next to the bathhouse. I decided to squat there for the night. If I don’t get caught, I’m saving $6.
High priced resort on the shores of…Lake Kent
Day 5 (66), Sat 8/26, Yellow Deli, Rutland, 3.0
It rained hard again last night. Heavy rain is a lullaby to me. I slept solid until 5:15. Since I was lucky enough to wake up early, I thought I should take advantage of the time to make my escape without detection. I got my earliest start in weeks…on the trail by 6:30.
The “Maine Junction” where Long Trail and Appalachian trail meet (or split depending on your direction of travel)
I’m having a hard time staying “in the present.” This is one of my goals from this trip: to quit worrying about the future. I know it’s wasted energy. When I catch myself doing this, I do something even more bizarre—I start talking to the trees. In my defense, I’m not having conversations with individual trees where I stop and talk one-on-one. I talk to the forest in general. (I’ve only gotten caught once by another hiker, but I noticed their pace picked up considerably after the encounter).
The Long Trail north will have to wait…for now
Today, I was doing what I’m constantly accusing the NOBOs of doing—I was calculating the mileages I need to cover to complete this hike. This is stupid on so many levels. 1) I’m already 9 days ahead of my original plan. 2) I’m 2 days ahead of the plan (which is also accelerated over my original plan) I need to keep to meet my friend, David in NY. And, 3) I’ve still got nearly 14 months to go to complete this hike.
The sun started breaking through the morning fog
Once I started talking to the trees, my anxiety dropped. They have this thing they do when I get in one of these moods—they grab my hiking poles to slow me down. I’ve had pretty much dirt track for the last 90 miles, so it’s been more of a challenge for them, but I can always count on them coming through for me.
The goal for the day was to make it in town to get everything done early and enjoy the day. I had heard there’s a free bus that passes the trailhead around 8:20—my target. I got to the road at 8:35 and saw the outbound bus passing in the opposite direction. I had 45 minutes to kill, so I put out my thumb.
Who says slugs are slow? He wasn’t even on the board when I pulled out my camera and then he photobombed me
I got a ride within 10 minutes (who needs women?). I was the 22nd hiker he’d picked up this year. He delivered me right to the door of the Yellow Deli (cult of the Twelve Tribes) in Rutland. He gave me one piece of advice before driving off…”don’t accept any literature while you are staying there. If you take it, they will insist upon discussing it with you. Get out as fast as you can.”
I think a free bed, shower, and laundry is a fair exchange for my soul…maybe throw in a good Reuben.
The rain never materialized except for about an hour of heavy downpour. If you can’t handle an hour of rain, you probably shouldn’t be out here. I did enjoy a day of rest and watching “Slumdog Millionaire” again.
Day 1 (59), Hexacuba Shelter, 14.6
I got up in the middle of the night (for some unknown reason) and the sky was completely clear. That’s why I was so surprised when I got up at 7 to see everything clouded over and it looking like rain. I decided to just take my time with breakfast and packing to see what would happen. I’m already a day behind schedule, so what’s another day going to do?
The start of a beautiful section of trail
Break Away checked the forecast and told me with confidence that there wouldn’t be any rain today. If you can’t trust a Marine Colonel, who can you trust? I chatted a while but still got out of the hostel by 8:30.
I just don’t think the moose get it
Not even 2 miles out I ran into a really nice old guy (by old, I mean even older than me). We stopped, talked, and clicked instantly. I thought he was from England, but he forgave me my mistake when he told me he was from Australia. This was his 140th day on the trail. Also his 140th day of not doing laundry. He showed me why you shouldn’t accept trail names with someone else in partnership—he was hiking with his son named Strength. Together they are Mental, Strength. His son is a few days behind (pink blazing, I think). Now this guy is running around the woods coming up to people and saying “I’m Mental.”
Mental giving me the Aussie thumbs up
I had forgotten how beautiful the trail is from Hanover to Moosilauke. Or, maybe I was in so much pain (knee and plantar fasciitis) that I just didn’t look up and notice. At any rate, this is a fabulous dirt track that’s easy on my feet. It also doesn’t hurt that there aren’t any climbs over 2000’ for a while.
Tremendous stone work on the way up Cube Mountain
Before I was able to start my hike, I watched a lot of current year vloggers on YouTube. As I was nearing the top of Cube Mountain, I ran into one that I had been watching: Ranger. We chatted for a bit about our experiences on trail.
YouTube blogger, Ranger
Right at the summit of Cube, I came across a guy in very colorful dress carrying a tea pot. He was friendly enough but something seemed a bit off, until I realized he was a bit stoned. This was Smoke Master. He’s making it part of his journey to spread peace, happiness, and love with everyone he meets on his journey by sharing a smoke. This is a very noble cause. Of course I gave him my full support.
Smoke Master spreading joy on the trail
Day 2 (60), Trapper John Shelter, 12.0
It’s a good thing I didn’t listen to my Republican friends in Decatur, IL. They suggested I carry a gun with me. If I had been foolish enough to do so, I would be writing this submission from prison (if they would let me keep my phone). The guy next to me in the shelter snored all night long…on both breaths; in and out. Luckily, I had decided to sleep with my hiking poles lying next to me. About every 15 minutes, I would grab a pole and poke him. It was dark enough that he couldn’t see where the pole was coming from. Needless to say, I’m done with shelters unless I have 50mg of Benadryl or I’m by myself.
I should record these pictures just for the sound
I’m glad it was a short day for me. It wasn’t supposed to be. If I put in 17 miles today, I’ll be back on schedule. I’d actually like to build up a couple extra days of cushion because there’s some new hostels in CT I’d like to check out. I was just dragging too much today from lack of sleep to put in a big day.
New Hampshire is not afraid of ruining the wilderness experience by putting in bridges
I realize I’m suffering from survivor guilt. I’ve been dealing with it ever since my sister died 31 years ago. It’s only intensified since my dad’s death this past December. My sister was a nurse, very outgoing, and loved by all. She had two wonderful young daughters (neither of which will let me live in their basements—when I told them I was going to live in one of their basements, they both bought slab houses). It made no sense for her to die at 38. It still doesn’t make any sense to me. She’s been dead longer than she was my sister, but I still think about her nearly every day.
Smarts Mountain has a fire tower on top and the old caretaker’s cabin as a shelter
I still wonder about the way I handled stuff with my dad at the end. In between hospital stays last year when he was having a pretty lucid day, I took him for a ride so we could talk. I told him I knew he was suffering with his strained breathing. He had to focus 100% of his effort to just breathe. I told him not hold on for us. We’re all in stable positions and we’ll be fine. I told him I didn’t want him to die, but I also didn’t want to see him suffer. In less than 2 weeks, he was dead.
Smarts’ fire towerSomewhat appropriate art in the tower
When my brother and I made the decision to go to comfort measures, the Dr was very understanding and compassionate. He reminded us we weren’t killing our dad—the COPD was. He promised dad wouldn’t suffer. In the final hours, my dad started getting restless and rolling around in the bed. I went and got the nurse and demanded she increase his fentanyl so he wouldn’t be in pain. This still haunts me that I did this, but I couldn’t watch the misery.
Aforementioned shelter
Whoever says it’s beautiful to be with someone when they die is FOS. It’s the most gut wrenching thing I’ve ever done. I knew it was coming—I was watching his breathing, heart rate, pulse ox, holding his hand, and talking to him. I knew he was dying and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I’d have gladly traded places with him. He was a good and gentle man. It makes no sense to me that my dad and sister are gone while I’m still here.
Somber picture to match my mood
Day 3 (61), Velvet Rocks Shelter, 15.2
I finally had a good night of sleep. I haven’t slept well since I stealth camped on Mt Wolf and it rained all night long. Last night, I got my new sleep system all figured out. If I can put in 15 today, I’ll be back on schedule.
Reminding me I’ve still got a long way to go on the first leg of this journey
In short, I got 2 firsts today—1) I hiked my first 15 mile day of the year, and 2) I didn’t wear any knee supports. I’ll still carry my supports in case my knees start to hurt again, but the steepest and longest climbs are behind me (for now). I’ve actually got several days planned in the 15-20 mile range in the next month with even a 20+ thrown in for good measure. I’ll have to average over 17 miles/day starting in October to be able to finish by Christmas.
Falcon breeding cliffs
The NOBOs are starting to thin out a bit. A few days ago, I was running across more than 25 every day. Today it was down to the mid-teens. By the time I get out of Vermont, I should pretty much have the trail to myself. That alone should be good for a 5 mpd increase—I easily spend a couple hours every day talking to people I pass. Maybe I can get the mileage I need without having to get up earlier.
Where are the moose? Can you find one, because I sure can’t.
Day 4 (62), Hanover, 1.5
It amazes me that this shelter is so close to town. We are actually above houses directly below us but we can’t see them because of the trees. In reality, I could throw a rock and knock a hole in someone’s roof—oh to be a young delinquent again.
Near Hanover, people leave things out for hikers every day.
I woke up, without an alarm (mind you) right at 6. I’d already set the water last night for my coffee (note to self: trail invention that’s needed is a timed ignition for my jet-boil). I still had my honeybun, pop tarts, sausage links, and instant coffee before I headed into town for second breakfast at Lou’s Bakery.
Right as trail enters the forest next to Dartmouth
I’m going to back track a bit here. DOC (Dartmouth Outdoor Club) maintains the trail from the other side of Moosilauke all the way to Hanover. In general, they are doing a fantastic job…the further from Hanover you are. Maybe it’s the locals topping off the privy (it’s only a mile out from the soccer field) but I actually felt myself grow in height, while sitting, this morning. The half height privy door was a nice architectural accoutrement—cudos for that, but it’s time to dig a new hole and move a few feet away from the present location.
Dartmouth athletic fields with trail running along the edge
I plan to stay in Hanover long enough to get all the free food available (free donut at Lou’s and Pizza at Ramunto’s), resupply, shower, and do laundry. I will be in a new state (other than confusion) by the end of this day.
