Saying "goodbye" is never easy

When I left off this blog in Pawling last month, that was sort of a last hurrah. Pawling was a great town and I still felt that I was a thru-hiker, though my eminent return to life at home was increasingly on my mind. Sure, the feeling continued in Kent, CT too, but there I got what I knew would be the last of my maildrops. I was having nights where I was alone, which was strange. Then I hit Massachusetts, the last state I would hike through. Too close to home for my liking. I was missing the trail friends I had left behind and was feeling a bit lonesome.

I saw Moxie again and met Onager and Soulslosher. I hadn't seen Moxie since Virginia and seeing her again made me feel like I was with friends again. Indeed, I got along with Onager and Soulslosher very well too. The best was yet to come once I reached Dalton, MA. There, I stayed "The Bird Cage", the home of Rob Bird a man I think we should all aspire to be like: one of boundless generosity, and selflessness. He really inspired me in many many ways. That morning, I was feeling down about the end of my long journey being just a few short days away and I talked about it with Moxie. Afterwards, I noticed the words above the door, words I needed to see: "Don't be sad that it's over. SMILE that it happened." That was the reframe that I needed and it helped me put things into perspective and to focus on how fortunate I had been to be able to be out there for the past seventy-something days, What a wonderful life-changing miracle.

After that, Rob came back from work and there wound up being seven of us (myself, Onager, Moxie, Soulslosher, Caro, Kermit, and Rob) sitting around the kitchen table while Rob played guitar and we sang every old song we could think of. It was a perfect morning and really gave me that feeling of community that the trail is all about. If only moments like that weren't so rare in the frontcountry.

I wound up having a shelter to myself my last night and it was a bit lonesome, but it was good too because I could focus on my thoughts and reflect on some of the many lessons I've learned. In the morning I hiked to the Vermont border. The sign for the beginning of the Long Trail there was like my version of the sign on the summit of Katahdin: big and marking the end of a long journey. I then backtracked and met up with my dad who took my out for dinner and then back to NH. My first day off the trail, my car was hit by an uninsured motorist. Welcome home. The next day, I was at a camping weekend with friends and hiked a small connecting piece of the trail I hadn't done. I was still working on the trail, but I was in the wrong state and it felt weird.

The next week I moved to my new home and then got back on the trail in Vermont, finishing up the part of the AT I hadn't done before (Maine Junction to NH). Along the way, I met Whistler who was of the same ilk as Truckin' and myself, deeply philosophical and examining life. He said that he thought that the trail gave him what he needed when he needed it and I couldn't help but feel that the trail bringing him my way was doing that for me. He helped me to rehash in my mind the lessons I'd learned as he had learned many of the same ones as well. We even had the same idea for a tattoo in the same location. In the end, I dubbed him a Soggy Bottom Boy. It was only fitting. He is a Soggy Bottom Boy if there ever was one. Very fitting too as there were three of them. At the end of this stretch, I had the opportunity to pass on advice to SOBOs and to visit whichway and Pamola, which was very good for my soul.

Back home again, I took care of more mundane things and less than a week later, I was back on the trail this time in the Mahoosucs finishing up that part of NH and and the ridge. Mahoosuc Notch tested my resolve, but I came out on top and was glad for it. Even though with my car near by and quitting being an easy option, I didn't let tough conditions or bad weather break my thru-hiker spirit even though I was coming to accept the fact that I was now a section hiker. That was/is a hard thing to admit, even though it's true, because I took great pride in my thru-hiker identity.

Getting off the trail again after that section, I returned to my work-study position.Good to be making money again, but I felt more under the microscope like I was some kind of exotic specimen. People wanted to see and hear me and they marveled at the changes they saw in me. All I wanted to do was get back on the trail. I felt like a creature that was captured in the wild and brought into captivity. I longed to be back in the woods.

Then on Friday I headed back to the trail in Maine again. I saw Old Crow at the shelter and I hadn't seen her since Waynesboro! Things got even more spectacular when I got to the summit of Baldpate in the morning. Just as I got up there, Whistler came up from the other side! Once again the trail gave both of us what we each needed: him a ride into town to resupply, me a friend to again remember and internalize the trail's lessons with. His friend Walkin' Home was with him too and the three of us had a great day talking about life, the trail, and what's truly important. We wound up finding an abandoned rundown cabin that we tidied up a bit and spent the night at. It was on a beautiful pond and the sunset during the calm before the storm was so serene, I think it made that night one of the best of my trail experience.

This story and this blog are not done. I believe I have one more weekend left where I can get on the trail and see if any further lessons are revealed to me. When all is said and done, I will share hear much of what I have learned. For now, I say to my trail friends "Happy trails to you, until we meet again." 

Hello Goodbye and "Follow Your Own Path"

To those who have been reading this blog, I must apologize for not having updated sooner. I have had internet access but not time. Now I am in Pawling, NY about to cross back over into New England and am dragging my heels.

When I last updated, I was in Duncannon, PA traveling with a kindred spirit and really engrossed in my trail experience living each day to the fullest without a care. So much has changed since then. I got a tick bite/Lyme's disease scare. Truckin got sick and had to drop back. I then travelled with Jen and James who have subsequently had to get off the trail. Pebbles did too. Much bigger than these partings though was the fact that I had to confront some inevitable things related to home life that I didn't want to address or think about until I got home.

As part of my growth and realizations about what I want from my life, I had come to realize that my continuing to be in a relationship with Magpie would only cause us both future pain and suffering. She noticed the changes in me and asked me point blank about it on the phone and I had to be honest with her and let her know that I was breaking up with her, though I much rather would have discussed it in person when I got home. Of course, this change has the ripple effect of making me think abut my dismal financial picture, the need to move, and my rapidly approaching time of coming off the trail.

In my efforts to make it to Vermont before the Barnes Field camping weekend and my moving on August 1st, I've now had to be more regimented in doing my miles each day. This is part of the "follow your own path" or "hike your own hike" mantra. I have had to leave some of my trail friends behind and am now travelling with different people with whom I don't have shared trail memories. I've known for a while that trail friendships, and indeed many non-trail relationships are transient things, fleeting and to be enjoyed while they are there, but not to be expected to last forever, and am working on building my acceptance of such realities.

Of course, the other side of the parting coin is that I've had fantastic visits with or from Erin, David, Alex, and Kim. Talking to them about my trail experience I really see how passionate I am about this. It furthers my resolve to go into adventure-based counseling and help others to make similar personal discoveries to the ones I've made. I've also experienced a lot of wonderful trail magic from a lot of wonderful people. I never would have imagined that New York would be the center of generosity on the trail north of Virginia. The love and support that I've received from my friends has been overwhelming and humbling. I wonder what they will think of the changes I've undergone and how this may affect our relationships.

As I move into the final 170 miles of my trip, I am trying to write down and remember all the things I've learned and all the changes I wish to integrate into my life. I hope to be able to further reflect and take things much slower after I have returned and moved. I plan to head out again following that and do the stretch of trail from Maine Junction to the Vermont-New Hampshire border, doing fewer miles each day and finishing up the AT in Vermont. This encore hike will give me the chance to bring everything together and to mentally prepare myself for my new life without Magpie, the new school year, and my new internship.

For now, I will try to stay in the present and absorb all I can. I will focus on today and moving onward to Connecticut!

UnShakle(ton)ed!

Hitting Harper's Ferry, WV I had a wonderful time and got to socialize with the legendary Baltimore Jack who sold me my new hiking shoes. In town and wish my new shoes, I found new energy and a new point of view, one less wrapped up in myself and whatever I thought I may have accomplished on the trail previously. At the same time, my new shoes liberated me from the shin splints which had crippled me previously.

Moving on, I hit 20+ mile days again and gained confidence again, without getting cocky about things. I think me true reward was getting to form my own fledgeling crew with a fellow hiker who hikes at a similar speed to me. His name is Truckin' and together we are The Soggy Bottom Boys. We have had many great philosophical discussions and made many great discoveries. We both marvel in in each day out here and are in awe of the spectacles nature and people reveal to us on a daily basis. Truly I have found a kindred spirit in this fellow hiker.

While every thing seems to be coming up roses now, I am struggling with thoughts about when this will all have to come to an end, yet I try not to let this distract me and I think I am doing well to enjoy each day immensely and to "suck the marrow of life". One thing that I will try to focus on is keeping the lessons I learn on the trail in my mind as well as my heart when I go home. Until then, I will continue to that God every day for all the blessings he has given me out here on the trail.

That's all from Duncannon, PA.

Blackberry Cobbler & Humble Pie ala Mode

     Well, it's been a while since Waynesboro. The Shennandoahs were pretty cool, but had their ups and downs (literally and figuratively). Leaving Waynesboro I said goodbye to friends whe were aqua-blazing (paddling the river rather than hiking the national park), some of whom I may never see again. I enjoyed stealth camping, rolling into pay campgrounds after the ranger had closed shop and breaking down my camp before they opened again. I enjoyed camp store breakfasts of Starbucks coffee, Pop Tarts, beer, and Cocoa Krispies to fuel up for 20+mi days. I developed a taste for Dr Pepper (and his cousin Dr WHAM) and I had the most amazing blackberry cobbler with blackberry ice cream.

     Those of us that remained endevoured to make the aqua-blazers envious of us, so we had a huge Hiker Trash party complete with a girl (Spins) doing her fire poi thing and having the ranger come over and threaten to call the cops on us. Awesome. I also had a great time staying a couple nights at a Grateful Dead inspired hostel called Terrapin Station. I was able to do a slack-pack from there.

     Unfortunately, many of these wonderful times came on the heals of my learning my limitations. After numerous consecutive days of heavy miles (the last being a 26miler), it caught it to me and I developed shin splints. I feel that I deserved that because I had stopped at a shelter for dinner and when asked if I was spening the night, I boasted that I was doing another 12mi once I was done. Contributing to the shin splint, in addition to the heavy miles and heavy pack, were my lack of resting, and the fact that my boots had been falling apart.

     I have learned a lesson in modesty and in taking care of myself. I've completed the over 500mi of the trail in Virginia and here in Harper's Ferry I bought new footware from the legendary Baltimore Jack. I've never hiked with a big pack and done big miles in trail runner height footware, so we'll see how it goes. They feel really good and light, so I'm hopeful, but I'll be in Rocksylvania soon so I'm unsure. I know that I need to take it easy and allow my body the time it needs to heal. I know that taking time to rest is an investment in being able to hike further.

     There have been many good and less than great moments since my last update, but through even the worst, I've been having the time of my life. I honestly can say that I haven't been this happy and felt this alive since I was a kid. In fact, this may very well be better than that.   

Living on Appalachian time

Another week has flown by. The obvious signs are near empty food bags, low energy, and sore feet. I've gone over 350 miles since my journey began almost four weeks ago. My pack has shrunk and I think I have too a little bit. Hard to tell. The days out here seem to last forever, but in a good way. Time seems to stand still and I savor each day, even when it's over 90 degrees and I'm struggling up a steep climb. The community and the memories that we forge each day on the trail or in camp are dear to me and I kow I'll look back fondly on them for the rest of my life. It makes me sad to think that someday this will have to end and I'll have to go back to "the real world". In many ways I am, like Thoreau, sucking out the marrow of life and living more fully, more completely than I have been able to perhaps since childhood. That feeling of endless days that I remember from summers of my youth has returned.

After days ruminating over decisions to be made and actions to be taken upon my return home, I gained some clarity and insight and have, to an extent, come to some conclusions in regards to my life's direction. Beyond that, I kept spinning my wheels thinking more and more about these things, which of course accomplished nothing. Then, I got another awakening. This time from the words of a fellow hiker, Hippy Kippy who's a professor of philosophy out in California.

He said "The trail clears the busy in your head, if you let it. All those things that must be done are distant and beyond the horizon." He is a very wise and peaceful man and I feel my life is richer for having met him.

Right now, I'm resting up at a B&B in West Middle of Nowhere (Montebello, Va). In a few days I'll hit Waynesboro and then be in the Shannandoahs ("the Shannies" as they are called) which will put me out of communication for over a week, maybe closer to two. It all depends on how the miles roll out. I am enjoying my eexperience to the utmost and continue to meet wonderful people everyday as well as seeing people I'll only known a couple weeks but who seem like old friends. All I can say is that my days out here on the trail are the sweetest I have ever known. Namaste.

Timing, planning, and other things beyond my control

The past week feels like it was a month or a year ago. Bland now has a certain nostalgia about it. I wound up meeting Clean Shave and sharing a motel room with him and there were others staying there as well, so we actually had a ball there. I did a mad dash to get to Pearisburg to get a package there before the post office closed on Saturday so I wouldn't have to wait through the long weekend in that town. In Pearisburg I had cheap Mexican food, counseled a suicidal guy at the bar, and learned that you can get breakfast at Dairy Queen. The best part was having a guy called "The Captain" take my pack in his truck to his place while I hiked the 23mi there for a huge party/hiker feed that he was having. I only managed to find his house in the dark by dumb luck, but so many things out here happen this way: better than could be planned and completely by surprise.

I came across wonderful cold beverages as "trail magic" several times. There's nothing I crave more on the trail. I've been struggling with my pack weight still and am hoping to send a third batch of things home. Now that I am here in Roanoke visiting with Heather, Matt, and Georgie, I have prepared another box of stuff to go back to NH including my sleeping bag which I've replaced with a light liner bag and a thin fleece blanket.

The timing for my visit couldn't have worked out much better. Early yesterday morning, my tent collapsed on me as I slept. Apparently one of the connectors between two seconds of pole snapped in the night. Also, my water filter completely failed on me and the manufacturer (MSR) basically said, tough luck. Packing things up, I headed out quickly over a long difficult ridge by Dragons Tooth. I was especially concerned about being able to get to the Catawba post office before it closed at 5pm. I finally made it down off the ridge to the road and from there went down the road and around the corner to a store where a bunch of hiker friends were hanging out. What was originally just going to be a quick stop for cold drinks and maybe a bite of lunch turned into something much longer. We played up our roles as "Hiker Trash" hanging out on the sidewalk eating food, drinking drinks, and some smoking cigarettes. Eventually we shared a couple six packs relaxing in the shade. It was a lot of fun and it inspired me to say "One of the best things about hiking the Appalachian Trail is not hiking the Appalachian Trail". What I meant is that it's the moments in between that are often when the best memories are made.

Looking at my map I saw that I could just go down the road to the post office and skip a featureless section of trail which all agreed was fine since I'd be walking from one point to the next. As I walked there, the third gear failure occurred: the temporary fix on my shoulder straps of my pack gave out... just a little before I picked up the replacement ones Mountainsmith sent me through the mail. I chilled out on the lawn of the PO replacing them while Heather came to pick me up.

Today, the good folks at Walkabout Outfitters helped me get a replacement connector and a new filter. I also got to spend quality time with Heather and played with baby Georgie. It was a good relaxing day that I enjoyed freshly showered and then wearing freshly laundered clothes. I also finally ate my fill. Tomorrow I'll be sad to say "goodbye" to my dear friends, but I'll have the consolation of climbing McAfee Knob which is said to have the second best views in Virginia. I'll also be feeling better about my gear, though I'll now be carrying a ton of food. One important lesson I'm learning is that things don't always go as we plan, and that can be the best news of all.

"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." - Ferris Bueller

I've always loved this quote and am finding it to be true on the trail, even when you're taking life at two miles per hour. During my first week out of Damascus, I've seen things go from a crowded whirlwind experience to a much slower more solitary one. Initially, with everyone leaving town around the same time, the shelters and campsites were fairly crowded and I was frequently coming across others on the trail. Now, since I have been doing fairly high mileage days given the terrain (17+mi/day) and I didn't stop in Atkins (where many others stopped) I feel that I've passed many of the people whose company I was enjoying. Today I am resting in Bland (as exciting as it sounds) in an effort to regain some energy and protect myself from injury. No one else from the trail is here. With it being a few miles off the trail and not having much to offer, this town isn't a popular place to resupply. Atkins before it was and Pearisburg (the next town up is as well).

This is sort of where the rubber meets the trail for me. The high and excitement of Trail Days has worn off and spending more time alone, the experience is becoming less of a social one except either at night at shelters with a smaller number of people than before or on occasion when I do run into someone on the trail. At times, boredom has set in and I'll use my iPod to get me a little more motivated. Other times I'll just let my mind wander and this usually leads to my slowing down.

Besides seeing fewer people, another challenge has been the change in weather. When I got on the trail, it was cool and misty. One day it rained lightly-moderately, but it was comfortable. This weather helped me get through the tough sections over Whitetop and Rogers, the second and the highest peaks in Virginia. The climbs were challenging but the cooler temps made them more manageable. Plus, seeing the wild Highland Ponies added to the excitement. One cold stormy night, I was crammed into the eaves of the second level of a shelter over 5,500' elevation. Rain was pounding on the metal roof inches from my face as thunder rumbled and below ponies were chewing on the edge of the shelter for the salt. I didn't sleep well, but it was exciting. Now, the weather has turned warmer (80s). Water is getting scarcer and the terrain less interesting. Instead of hitting peaks, we just traverse long wooded ridges below the ridgetop. I understand now why many people say that boredom is one of the hardest things about the trail. To keep going, you need to not be focused on taking in views or peaks but rather to be focused on taking in that which is within. Yesterday, I had a moment of clarity where I stopped and truly appreciated where I was and what I was doing and was so thankful.

While the last few days have been challenging, next week looks better. The trail is fairly smooth for the next 40 miles and I'll be hitting a place on the trail called Woodhole Hostel. Bunks there have mattresses and cost $10 a night. They focus on sustainable living through beekeeping, organic gardening, yoga, and massage therapy. They have electricity and hot showers, organic tea/coffee in the morning and I can take part in local/organic community dinner for $12 or breakfast for $6.50. Yoga is free. They have Internet, laundry (machine & hand-wash), pizza, smoothies, and shuttles into town. It's no wonder this place is called "a slice of Heaven not to be missed" in the book. After Woodshole, I'll hit Pearisburg where I can get a town meal before continuing another 75mi to Catawba where I'll see my dear friend Heather, whom I haven't seen for a couple of years and her baby whom I've yet to meet. I'll slow down there for sure as this is something I wouldn't want to miss for anything.  

My friend No Worries said yesterday that the trail was his military. That it was breaking him down and rebuilding himself into a soldier in the army of his life. I liked that and feel that if I push through the pain, the mental challenges, and the conditions (weather, trail, and physical) that I too will be rebuilt, or as the title of this blog puts it I will experience rebirth by trail and by trial. I will push on to be all I can be.