Bill’s A.T. Journal

At the beginning of March I started a job at a nature center in Ohio, and when I got there I noticed a 6-day break over Easter. Right away I realized that the break would be long enough for me to close one of the gaps in my hike from last year, and I wasn’t all that far from PA in southeastern Ohio. I decided I’d head out, and through Facebook I found out that Hotpants (Ava), who I hiked with last year, was also heading out that weekend to hike for a month. We decided to hike together for the weekend before I headed back to Ohio and she continued on.

The Thursday before Easter I picked Ava up at the world’s largest Cabela’s, where she’d been hanging out since the bus dropped her off. We drove to Duncannon, where we checked into the Doyle Hotel, famous as a great stop for hikers. We were not disappointed, as we met the first pair of ’09 thru-hikers, named Fitch and Troop. We also met a guy named Fishin’ Fred.  After the bar closed we were hanging out on the porch when Fishin’ Fred left, saying, “I’ve got something in my car…I’ll be right back…”  He returned with a plastic water bottle with duct tape around it.  First he handed me the plastic bottle and said, “try this.” It was full of a clear liquid and labeled “FUEL,” so I politely declined.  “Don’t worry,” he insisted, “That’s good moonshine–I just label it fuel so I won’t confuse it with my water bottle.”  No thanks, Fred.

In the morning we drove north to Port Clinton, PA to start our hike, parking the car behind an outfitter in that town.  As we hit the first hill, we looked up and wondered why this had sounded like a good idea such a short time ago.  We huffed and puffed our way up, stopping to chat with an 85-year old man who was carrying a shovel and pickax to do trail maintenance.  He assured us that we weren’t that out of shape–it just happened to be the biggest climb in the area by far.  That made us feel a little better.

That night we stayed in a shelter with two very irritating alcoholic girls.  They got into a drunken argument over which state some story of theirs was set in, with one claiming it was Virginia and the other Pennsylvania.  “I’ll bet you $100 it was Virginia!” shouted one of the girls.  They shook on it, and the other girl made one more argument.  The Virginia girl’s jaw dropped: “Oh…crap….I owe you $100, huh?”  For the rest of the trip this was a running joke between me and Ava, as in, “We’re going the right way.”  “Are you $100 sure?”

The next day we upped our mileage to 15.5, ending at a sweet shelter with a skylight.  Our guide claimed, “A potter once had her wheel underneath.”  We decided that if we were potters, it would in fact be a good place for our wheel.  This shelter was close to the road, so I was even able to order dinner from an Italian place.  Ava spent most of the evening trying to talk me into quitting my job and hiking for the next month.

In the morning Ava woke up with a sore knee.  As the day wore on, it was obvious she was in terrible pain.  I knew it, because it was the same problem I’d had in the first week of my hike last year.  There’s a tendon on the outside of your knee that rubs against the bone every time you bend it.  If you go from sitting around all day to flexing your knee 10,000 times a day, it gets irritated and swells up…the pain is incredible.  I knew she was going through hell, so we stopped and I told her I had decided I would quit and keep hiking.  Since we didn’t have to make it in 5 days anymore, we would stop at the next road and hitch a ride to our car.

It was Easter, so we figured people would either be extra-helpful or want nothing to do with a couple of scuzzy hitch-hikers.  First we got picked up by a pastor, his wife, and their newborn baby, who dropped us off a few miles away in Lickdale.  We enjoyed a wonderful Easter dinner at Wendy’s before heading outside to catch another hitch to the car.  That’s where things got interesting.

We were picked up by a guy named Juan, who didn’t speak great English.  We asked where he was from, and the surprise answer was, “Massachussetts.” After trying to explain where we were going, he headed off…but then we realized we were heading east instead of north.  We explained again where we were headed, and he said, “Oh!  That is not this way.  I will take you there.”

Evidently when he said, “I will take you there,” he meant, “I will drive in that direction for a few miles and then drop you off in the middle of nowhere.”  We found ourselves at a country intersection with a gas station, Ethel’s restaurant, a shady-looking massage parlor, and sunset approaching.  We were also far from the trail, seriously reducing our chances of catching a hitch.  People love picking up hikers…they hate picking up random people in the middle of nowhere.  An asian couple drove up to the gas station, got out of the car, and took pictures of each other in the phone booth before driving off.

Eventually we were picked up by a guy named John, who took us into Port Clinton where my car was parked.  He was really friendly, knew a lot of the Austin bands that Ava liked, and offered us an Easter ham.  After arriving in Port Clinton, we found the whole town shut down for Easter except for one building with those brick-glass windows and a small neon OPEN sign.  We wandered up and peered in the windows…it was definitely a bar, but there was a buzzer on the door and Ava was really nervous about trying to get in.  This is the same girl who wandered up to a half-dozen crack dealers in Philly at 3am to ask for a ride, so that immediately made me nervous too.  We ended up giving it a shot, and found it was the volunteer firefighter’s club, with cheap beer and the season finale of Ava’s favorite show on TV.

Over the next two days we toured the Yuengling brewery–the oldest in America–and Hershey, PA.  We spent the night in Gettysburg and took a battlefield tour the next day, which was amazing.  From there we headed back to Ohio so I could finish out the week and move out before heading back to the trail.  As we drove, Ava saw a hitch-hiker on the side of the road.  Since so many people had picked us up, we decided to help her out.  She turned out to be a 62 year old toothless woman named Pat.  With no teeth, she could only mumble and point.  All we could understand was “The government don’t pay me till next month,” and “I need gas for my truck.”  Eventually we were able to figure out where she needed to go and dropped her off at her house.  We coth cracked up as soon as we were out of the driveway…but then Ava stopped short.  “Wait a minute,” she said, “There’s a pretty good chance she was demented.  Did we just drop a crazy lady off at some random house?”  We decided there was nothing we could do about it now and continued on to Ohio.

More on the rest of the trip later…

So, I just sent someone the link to this page and realized that I should put a post up here in case there’s someone I forgot to tell…I’m done for this year. 

I hiked about 2 weeks after that last post, caught up with one guy I knew, and was making up ground on some others doing about 20-25 miles a day…but then I pulled into Waynesboro, VA and saw the forecast for the next week.  Turns out I was in for a week of record low temps for that area.  It had been so cold I couldn’t stop for more than a minute or two without shaking, which makes it hard to enjoy the hike.  I definitely could have kept going, if it meant I would finish the whole trail, but since the plan all along had been to enjoy the trip…meh, just not worth it.

But I did get to see a bear two days before the end – it slid down a tree trunk at me like a fire pole.  That was pretty cool.  I also got into one shelter 3 hours after dark and slid my stuff in between two guys where there was a space.  I wole up the next morning in the middle of a very surprised scout troop – haha!

My current plan, if everything works out, is to hit the trail again in early April from Springer Mtn to Waynesboro, finish that by June so I can come back in time for summer camp, and then kill off the last two chunks I missed in the fall with my friend B.A.  So until then…a few good Zero Months.

Despite our troubles getting to Philly, it was a fun stay once we got there.  Among the highlights were the Constitution Center and Independence Hall, cheesesteaks, and some live music.  I did have one scare late on Halloween night when we walked to McDonalds to find it was drive-thru only.  As we turned to go, a large black Lincoln pulled up to an old Caddy with some blingin’ rims and a couple guys started talking between the two cars while several other guys formed a ring around them.  I quickened my pace, then realized that Hotpants was walking over to the cars.  I told her that probably wasn’t a good idea, but she was undeterred and asked the nearest sentry if they would mind giving us a ride through the drive-through.  Fortunately, the one she picked was wasted, and said “Naw, I’m pretty drunk, just takin’ care o’ some bid-ness.”  We got Dunkin Donuts instead.

On the way back to Allentown, Hotpants talked to her mom and found out her granny had broken her hip and wasn’t doing well.  When we got to the airport where we dropped off the car, she decided to fly back to Austin instead of going back to the trail.  Then Doc decided to head home too, because some bad water or bad food had made it impossible for him to hike anyway.  After all of our short days and three zeroes in Philly, I suddenly found myself heading back to the trail not just alone, but two weeks behind the nearest hiker I knew of.  So I hiked three more days into Port Clinton–I didn’t want to have to deal with Joel again if I had to return to Palmerton–and caught a Greyhound for Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia.  This is generally thought of as the middle of the trail (technically the middle is about 40 miles north) and is home to the headquarters of the ATC, which oversees the trail.  On the way I decided I’m no longer “SOBO” but “SKIP-BO.”

The Greyhound took me to Washington, DC, where I caught an Amtrak for Harper’s Ferry.  As I was boarding I noticed the guy in front of me had a Bears hat on, and asked him if Kyle Orton had actually become a real quarterback, like Pinnochio.  It turned out we were given seats next to each other on the train, and that he (Mike) was also going to Harper’s Ferry.  What’s more, he was staying at the hostel in town that I planned to stay at, had gotten the last room, and was looking for a roommate to split the cost.  And he’s from Western Springs, so we even knew some of the same people.  Talk about good luck!  Another hiker even happened to be on the same car, noticed my grungy look, and gave me all his food since he was going home, which saved me a trip to the grocery store.

In Harper’s Ferry Mike and I had dinner then caught a ride down to the local bar (as opposed to the yuppie bars in the “historic district”).  There we met a guy named Terry, who was interesting because A) he didn’t speak English, just mumble, and by the end of the night even managed to slur his mumbling B) he had been in prison for seven years (I couldn’t understand why, and didn’t want to press the issue) and C) challenged everyone he saw to armwrestle.  I lost the match but gained a friend–and we figured he was a pretty good ally to have should the locals turn against us.  They almost did when, at the end of the night, one guy saw Mike’s Bears hat and insulted their defense.  Mike didn’t want to let that one drop, even though I tried to wave him off.  It didn’t come to blows, but we weren’t able to catch a ride back to town either so we walked the two miles to the hostel.

In the morning we toured the historic part of town for a while, then said goodbye and I headed down the trail.  I’m now at a place called the Bear Den Hostel in Snickers Gap, and I’m about a day behind one of the guys I met and hung out with while I was going north.  (The ATC office has a book with everyone’s picture who has passed through).  After two ten-mile days to get here (mostly because I didn’t want to pass this up) I plan to do 18 tomorrow and about 20 the next day.  For those keeping score at home, that will put me around Front Royal, VA and just north of Shenendoah National Park.  It looks like the Inn-to-Inn section of my hike is over for now, so I may not be posting again for a while.

So, to continue the story from my last post…

I called Joel at Enterprise at 11:45am and he said they’d send a car to pick us up around 2-3 when it was ready.  Around 2 I left the library after writing that post, expecting the car to be there any time.  At 4, I still had not heard from Joel, so I called back.  “I’m expecting it any minute,” he told me.  At 5, he finally called: “The car is in, but right now all of my drivers are up north and won’t be back until after we close.  Can you come to the office to pick it up?”

No, Joel.  If we had a car to get to the office, we would not be renting a car.  Think before you speak.

Joel assured me he would figure something out and would get back to me after investigating a couple other options.  At 5:30 he called again.  “Listen, we’re not going to be able to pick you up.  Unless you can get here by the time we close at 6, we can’t help you.”  Shocked, the three of us considered our options and quickly called back.  “Joel,” I reasoned, “someone else answered the phone and gave it to you.  Since there are obviously two people there, couldn’t one of you come down and pick us up?”  Surely the Enterprise staff in Lehighton, PA is not suffering from overwork.  He declined.  Hotpants placed a call to try to stall him while Doc and I threw our thumbs up and tried to catch an emergency hitch.  She asked about their insurance plans and pleaded with Joel to stay just a few minutes past closing time so we could get there.  “Sorry,” he said, “but I have to leave at six to pick up a car or else I won’t have one for the weekend.”  Hotpants immediately replied, “Yeah, it would suck not to have a car for the weekend, wouldn’t it?“  Joel changed the subject.

Meanwhile, a couple of guys in their early twenties had pulled up in a tricked-out riceburner and agreed to give me a ride – just me, since that was all the room they had.  As Hotpants continued to stall Joel, we raced at 80mph through Palmerton to Lehighton.  Halfway there, the highway was on fire.  I don’t know why, because we blew right through the cloud of smoke to get to Enterprise before Joel left to pick up his car.  I arrived at 6:07 to find the doors locked and lights out, with our Kia tantalizingly parked outside.  Joel is a son of a bitch.

I returned to the car and asked the two guys if they would be willing to give me a ride back.  “Sorry, dude, but we have to take care of some business, and, uh, can’t bring any strangers with, y’know?”  But they did say they would drop me off at a gas station while they bought their drugs, and take me back if I was still there a half hour later.  What they neglected to mention was that the gas station was in the seediest possible section of rural PA, and that there wasn’t a chance in hell that anyone was going to pick up a scuzzy-looking hitchhiker there after dark.  I did get a lot of one-fingered waves, though, before taking my case directly to the patrons at the station without success.  The two stoners eventually did return to shuttle me back to Palmerton, and even invited us to their party – not a bad option, considering our other choice at the moment was to sit in a jailhouse-turned-hostel for Halloween night and read.

When I returned, still carless, Doc told me he had come up with a third option.  The night before, we volunteered to give a backpacking presentation to the local Boy Scout troop in exchange for dinner.  Doc had called the Scoutmaster, and he agreed to drive us all the way to Allentown to another Enterprise center that was open till midnight!  That’s a round-trip of 40 miles, just ‘cuz he’s a nice guy.  We were able to rent a car there (much nicer than the Kia, and a better rate) and made it to Philly about 10:30 where we met my brother Dave at his apartment.

As soon as I remember on a weekday, the regional Enterprise office gets to hear this story too.  That might be a tough break for Joel.  I hear it’s not an ideal time to be looking for a new job.

Over the last  days we have done zero, 10, 6, 9, 4, and 16 miles.  Today is another zero day as we’re renting a car to get from Palmerton, PA to Philly for the World Series celebration and Halloween.  Why not just celebrate Halloween here, you might ask?  Because they already had it.  On Wednesday.  And they changed the name to “Trick or Treat Day” to avoid the religious connotations.  As Dave said, “That’s why Pennsylvania is still considered a ‘swing state.’”

One reason for all the short miles has been the weather.  For one, it’s been cold, which makes it easy to stop short when we get to a town.  But on Tuesday we actually woke up to snow, and walked through driving sleet, sliding on the PA rocks for nine miles until we got into a town called Wind Gap, soaked pretty much to the skin.  Plus Doc, the guy I’m hiking with, had the same hat as me and accidentally packed it into his bag–making me think I’d lost it and nearly freezing my ears off. 

But it’s definitely been a fun week.  As we were drying off our gear in the Wind Gap motel room, Hotpants–the girl we’re hiking with–introduced me to the joys of MTV reality shows like “The Pickup Artist 2″ and “Real Chance at Love,” which are surprisingly entertaining with a case of 10-ounce Budweisers.  I didn’t know they made 10-oz cans, and still don’t understand why, but they taste just fine…”backpacker size,” I guess.

Well, the car should be ready soon.  Hope I still remember how to drive!

First, all pictures up to today are uploaded: http://www.box.net/shared/2sy8qdbh6k.  There are a lot of pics there that I took just to see what time it was, and others that I took half a dozen times because it didn’t look right.  I’m going to try to put the best ones on Flickr, but they’re all there if you want to sort through them.

I’m now in New York, after hiking to Franconia Notch in New Hampshire (where the Old Man of the Mountain was once) and taking a bus through NYC to connect to a communter train to Peekskill.  I was planning to hike 4.5 miles from the train station to the trail, then another few miles to the Graymoor Center (a friary that lets hikers stay there).  But when I got off the train I walked past a bar with live music…late 60′s folk stuff I think.  I peeked in, and a guy outside said, “you should come in, they’re pretty good.”  I told him I had to get going, had hiking to do, and he replied, “Well, what if I buy you a beer?”  “OK.”  Him and his buddy bought me a couple beers at the bar while I told some trail stories, and then he gave me a ride straight to Graymoor after stopping to pick up a couple of tall boys on the way (yeah, I brought beer to a monastery…so sue me).  That’s what they call “Trail Magic” – people being unreasonably awesome just because you’re wearing a pack.

The next day, I woke up at about 10:00 and headed over Bear Mountain bridge to the zoo, up the mountain, and to the closest shelter.  The whole time I had an obscure Dylan song in my head called Bear Mountain Picnic.  “I don’t like mountains….an’ I hate bears…”  The shelter was pretty crowded with tents pitched all over the place.  I guess everyone in NYC was out for the weekend – Oktoberfest was going on in the park.  But when I poked my head in and asked if there was room for one more, they said, “Sure…about a dozen people have looked in here, but you’re the first one to ask.”  Which is why I was the guy sleeping by a blazing fire in the shelter while the suckers slept out in their freezing tents.  Score one for the good guys.

Before I left, lots of people said how neat it would be to hike in the fall while the leaves are changing.  I still hear that a lot.  And yeah, the leaves looked pretty for like a week.  But then they fell.  And I have discovered a series of fall-related frustrations I had not expected:

1. With heavy leaf cover on the ground and far fewer hikers, it’s extremely difficult to tell where the trail is on the ground.  In parts that are not well blazed (like the entire state of New Hampshire) or don’t have ground shrubs, it’s damn near impossible.
2. Heavy leaf cover hides many large, often sharp rocks.  My boots held up fine until I started stubbing my toe at full speed once a mile.
3. Night hiking is almost totally out of the question.  See #1 and #2, and then subtract 90% of normal visibility.
4. Night comes a lot quicker these days.  I should have seen this coming but didn’t, at all.  When I started it was light from 5:30 or 6am until about 8:00 at night.  Now I get from 7am to 6pm, and it’s dropping rapidly.  That’s three hours less daylight, and since I average about 2.4 miles per hour, that’s roughly 7 miles less per day.  That makes a serious difference, and the days are only getting shorter.  I may not get anywhere near as far south as I had hoped.

…Of course, the fact that I tend to stay in my nice warm sleeping bag until 9:00 most mornings also hurts my total miles.  With all that, the last two days have ben awesome.  Right now I’m staying in Unionville, NY at the mayor’s house.  He’s an awesome guy who has a couple friends that come over to cook for him and his guests, so I’ve been eating really well.  Plus sleeping indoors on this 20 degree night is going to be a big plus.

Today I “slack-packed,” meaning I left most of my stuff here at the house, took only what I needed for the day (it all fit in my pockets), and got dropped off at the trail to walk back to town.  I did 24 miles today, well above my average of 15.  But with no pack (and on very flat ground) it was definitely do-able.  Tomorrow the mayor will drive me to where I left off and I’ll hike another 18 miles to a place called the Mohican Outdoor Center, which takes in hikers, and then I’ll do 10 miles Saturday to Delaware Water Gap, PA.  Then I plan to zero there because the forecast calls for storms Saturday and Sunday.  I’ll also be able to pick up my new boots, which are being mailed to me (thanks mom).

The one thing the mayor asks of everyone that stays here is that we watch a video about a guy named Paul Potts.  You can look it up, or at least part of it, on YouTube.  Basically he was on the British version of American Idol and won…singing opera.  And Vincera (with an accent on the a) is the last word of the opera he sang in the finals, which means “I will win.”

So nuts to the leaves, and the dark.  Vincera.

The trip from Rutland to Hanover took far longer than I expected.  Mostly that’s because I met up once again with Alex (now “Mace”) from Philly, who decided to get off the trail at Hanover, and we really stretched those last few days.  On Tuesday a can of mace exploded in his pack, dousing a bunch of his gear.  For the next day or so he would randomly end up macing himself as he wiped his face with a glove, etc.  Pretty hilarious from my end.

The weather’s been great, and two nights ago we stopped at a store and we each hauled a six-pack seven miles uphill to the shelter to celebrate his last night on the trail.  That led to a late start yesterday, and I didn’t get to Hanover until 6:00 so I had to wait until today to get my cold weather gear from the post office.  I stayed at a shelter less than a mile out of town.

The guys working at the P.O. were kind of dense and off-putting.  One guy spent five minutes looking for my package – sent overnight three days ago – and came up empty.  After calling home to get a tracking number so I could find out what happened, I asked another clerk and he came back with the box in 30 seconds.  So after a few moments of mild rage, that was a nice surprise.

Today I was also able to tie up a lot of loose ends that had me worried – got new socks, resupplied, found a notary public, settled some financial issues, etc.  Turns out I was unneccessarily stressing about my bank account because I made a payment online at the last town but forgot I was signed up for autopay.  I paid twice, so I’m set for next month, but it resulted in a minor panic when I looked at an ATM receipt in Rutland.

It feels good to have all that taken care of, although I didn’t get everything done until 2:30.  That meant I’d be finishing the last couple miles in the dark tonight – ordinarily not a big deal, but a heavy leaf fall over the last few days has made it almost impossible at times to tell where the trail goes durng the day.  At night I’d have no chance.  So I’ll hole up just outside of town again tonight and leave tomorrow instead.  That should put me in Lincoln, the next town stop, on the 17th, and then back to NY on the 18th.  In the meantime, I have a chance to post, eat, drink, and be merry!

Here I am in Rutland, Vermont, enjoying a day off the trail (a “zero”) before heading out to New Hampshire.  Vermont was easily as muddy as advertised, especially with three days of intermittent rain.  Combined with 36-degree nighttime temps and my mis-directed winter gear, it added up to a cold, wet week for me.  But it wasn’t without its high points.  In fact, the last two days (after the rain stopped) were two of the best I’ve had yet on the trail, with gorgeous trails, mountains, leaves, lakes, streams, and even apple trees where I snagged some fresh fruit.  I spent Saturday night on top of Mt. Killington and got to see sunrise from the peak with a 360-degree view.  I have some awesome pictures of that I would post if I’d remembered to bring my camera to the library.

I also met a couple of guys who were out for a weeklong section hike, one of whom had thru-hiked in ’98.  We were going the same pace so I got to know them fairly well, and when we got done yesterday they bought me a huge lunch in an Irish pub and gave me a ride into Rutland.  Pretty awesome.  One of them was a pharmacist, and had snaked a pretty incredible collection of drugs that he carried with him: prescription-strength painkillers, antihistamines, antibiotics, vitamins, glucosamine, you name it.  His trail name was “Good Medicine.”

Last night I stayed at a hostel called “The 12 Tribes” where I had heard the people were very nice but a little weird.  Knowing that they ran an organic-food restaurant downstairs, I expected an native-american themed hippie-type commune.  Not so much…turns out that referred to the 12 tribes of Israel and they have a nice little cult going.  (Simpsons fans: I found a lima bean that looks like the Leader.)  I’m getting a motel room tonight, that place gave me the heebie-jeebies.

Tomorrow, I’m off early and hope to get to Hanover, NH (home of Dartmouth) by late Thursday or maybe early Friday.  With luck, my winter gear will catch up to me there.  And I may even remember to upload more pictures.

It’s been a while since I’ve been able to get to a computer. It seems every time I’m in a town, the library is closed…despite the fact that I’ve been spending roughly every other night in a bed lately.

New York was an interesting town, but surprisingly unimpressive. I don’t know if it’s because I’m used to big cities like Chicago, or that New York is the setting of half the shows on TV, but it just didn’t really stand out to me. But it was still great to see it and to take a little break after two weeks of wilderness, and the Yanks game was a lot of fun.

Leaving NY, I took the train out to the Appalachian Trail stop, where they open the train’s back door and tell you to get out. Because the ballgame had been delayed a day by rain, it was Sunday when I returned to the flower shop there to pick up a package they’d been holding, and I was still unable to mail it. I gave them $10 and asked they agreed to send it on to Salisbury, CT for me. Unfortunately, it seems I walk faster than the USPS delivers, because I beat the package there. Thanks to the Postal Service’s inability to get my stuff anywhere in a timely manner, I am without cold weather gear as the nights get chilly. It’s not a big deal–I just go to bed earlier–but it’s irritating. I think it’s time to bring back the Pony Express.

I blew through CT in about 5 days, and MA in another week. I average about 12-13 miles a day now and still have plenty of energy. I could do a lot more if I didn’t like to sleep in and stop early. I remember stumbling in exhausted at the end of a couple 9-mile days at the beginning of the trip…it’s a big difference.

At the south end of MA I met up with another guy heading north and split a hotel room with him. Since he was planning on averaging 20 miles a day, I figured I’d never see him again. But yesterday as I was walking out of a grocery store to head back to the trail, he happened to be crossing the street just then. He had taken a “zero day” to sit out the rain we had, allowing me to catch up. So, since he’s from Philly, we decided to go into town yet again last night to watch the Bears-Eagles game and we put a little bet on it. Originally the loser was going to have to carry a 6-pack up 10 miles to the next shelter, but at halftime he wanted to just make it ten bucks. Knowing the Bears’ ability to blow games, I agreed…too bad.

In Dalton, MA I met one of the nicest guys in the world, Rob Bird. He’s a retired cop who has just opened up his house (“The Birdcage”) to hikers for the last eight years. He shuttles folks all over town, does our laundry, everything. He’s not in any guidebook, either…he says he’s got a full house just from word of mouth. So I stayed there one night, hiked two days, then met him at the next town north that he visits every day and came back for another night. It was a nice break.

One of the most interesting hikes I’ve had so far was a couple days ago, when Rob was going to pick me up at the bottom of Mt. Greylock at 10am. I got up at 3:30 am and was hiking by 4 so that I would get to the top of the mountain for sunrise and then get down by 10. Except that was the day it rained, so I got to walk through two hours of cold, wet, dark. But it was actually a lot of fun…I felt like a trail ninja. When I got up to the top the first light was just starting to spread through the clouds, and it was very windy and rainy. There are a few buildings and a 90-foot monument up there, and as I walked they would just appear out of the gloom. It’s one of the coolest things I’ve seen yet–I wish there was a way to capture it on camera. The best description I can give is that it reminded me of one of those gloomy Zelda-type video games where creepy stuff appears out of nowhere. Then I basically slid down the muddy mountain and when I went into a restaurant at the bottom for breakfast, dripping and muddy, they hid me in the back. Haha.

Also, while sliding down the mountain, I discovered that duct tape is more powerful than superglue. One of my hiking poles decided to stop tightening at the adjustment points, so it would simply collapse every time I tried to use it. I sealed the first joint with superglue, then ran out and used duct tape for the other. As I neared the bottom of Mt. Greylock, the superglue gave out, but the tape held firm. Both joints are now shiny grey and doing just fine.

Vermont is known for its mud, so the rain hasn’t done it any favors. The last 10 miles or so were pretty swampy. But the “leaf season” is just starting, one of the best times to visit the state, so it should be pretty neat. Towns here are also a lot farther from the trail, so I don’t expect to be back on here for a while. I have some neat pictures too…I think I found a place to store all of them more easily: http://www.box.net/shared/2sy8qdbh6k.

That’s all for now, it’s getting late and I should really get going. I was supposed to do 14 miles today…guess I may have to finish in the dark.

–Bill

I’m officially in New York City, staying at a hostel in a room with two guys and a girl from Ireland, of all places.  I woke them up when I got in at 11am, so presumably they’re out to prove all the Irish stereotypes correct in NYC.  I’m going to head to the WTC site this afternoon, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to actually visit it because I found out both McCain and Obama are speaking there today.  If I’m really lucky I might be able to catch that.  Then tomorrow I’ll sightsee around town and go to the Yankees game at night.

Before I left Monson, I checked with the hostel there and was ecstatic to find that those NOBOs I met had, in fact, found my water filter and left it there for me.  Others said they only carry treatment drops because the 1-lb filter is too heavy, but I really learned to appreciate it when I had to go to the iodine tabs for a while because a) I hardly ever have to carry water with me–I just stop and filter when thirsty, which saves weight and b) I can drink from any water source I find, even a mud puddle, whereas with tabs I had to wait until I found a good clear one.  So that really made my day.

The trail in New York is MUCH flatter than Maine.  Here 1,000 feet qualifies as a “mountain,” while in Maine such a bump wouldn’t even be named on the map.  Last night I stayed in a picnic shelter at a monastery, where I was able to order pizza.  A retired guy was walking his dog past at about 5pm and stopped to talk, and then offered me a ride to the train station this morning–which of course I took him up on.  I got into the city much earlier than planned.  People are awesome out here on the trail; always friendly and offering to help.  I’ve even found a couple of examples of “trail magic” – stuff that people leave out on the trail for hikers.  One was a bag of whoopie pies hanging from a trail sign, and the other was a cooler full of cold sodas.  People just love to help out hikers and hear their stories, it’s amazing.

Well, my time on the computer here is almost up, and I’m in NYC to see the city, not a computer screen.  When I leave here Saturday I’ll be taking the train to the “Appalachian Trail” stop–yes, it has its own stop on the metra line–where they open the back door and tell you to hop out.  There isn’t even a platform!  Haha.  Then from there I’ll head north to see Connecticut and Massachussetts.  Until later,

Lobstah Legs

There are a lot of myths about the “100 Mile Wilderness” between Katahdin and Monson.  The first is that it’s 100 miles – it’s 114.5.  The second is that it’s a wilderness.  We saw more fords driving on roads than across streams and rivers.  But it was still a pretty cool place.  I have a lot of great pictures I’ll post when I remember to bring my camera to the library.

Climbing Katahdin was tough.  A lot of people were surprised when I told them it was the first mountain I ever climbed, but mostly said it was a great way to start.  A lot of parts were just giant boulders with lines painted on them to indicate where the “trail” was.  For a while I was thinking “this isn’t like any trail I’ve ever walked on,” but after 115 miles I’ve realized that those were just paths.  At the top of the mountain it was a gorgeous day, sunny and low 70′s with a fair wind and a great view.  It was so nice, in fact, that I decided to nap up there for a few hours, earning me my trail name, “Lobstah Legs” when I got a searing sunburn.  Note to self: there is no shade on top of a mountain.

After that I set out into the wilderness with sore legs, but they got better quickly as I got into the groove.  four days in, I came to the White House Landing, a wilderness camp 1.2 miles off the trail.  You walk to a boat dock and blow an airhorn, and the owner comes over in a power boat to pick you up – pretty awesome.  And they serve huge pizzas and 1 lb. burgers.  I wasn’t up to that yet–I haven’t developed the famous “hiker hunger”–but I inhaled a 1/2 pounder.  The place was so great I stayed a second night before moving on.

At the WHL I met a guy named Jeff from Dublin, TX.  He was 47 and had quit his job at the Dr. Pepper plant there to hike the trail.  He was a great guy, and we hiked together for a few days because we averaged about the same mileage each day.  Unfortunately, though, his bad knees forced him off the trail at the Pleasant River, about 70 miles in.  He’s going to try to see a doc and get back on the trail, but I’d call that doubtful.  That was a bummer because it was cool to have someone to hike with, and the dude had some pretty wild stories.

The other problem I had was the same day, when I left my water filter next to a river and realized it 3 miles later while standing on top of a mountain.  It was too far to go back, but some northbounders (NOBOs) who are going to be in Monson today said they’d look for it and get it to me if they found it.  Fortunately, I was prepared for that and had iodine tabs to get me through to town until I could find a replacement.

Overall, the “Wilderness” was a great experience, though the trails were rough and the mountains were tall.  I’m in Monson, ME right now staying the night at a hostel, and I’m considering what’s called a “flip-flop” – heading to a different part of the trail to continue instead of doing it all in a straight line.  I’d like to be in New York on 9/11 and catch a Yankees game before they tear down the stadium, so if I can do that I’ll probably head back there.  When I decide I’ll post again with my plans.

Take care,

“Lobstah Legs”

I thought I’d put something on here so I could send out the link before I left. I have no idea how often I’ll be able to update this while I’m on the Trail, but a lot of people asked me to keep in touch while I was gone and let them know how it was going so I thought I’d make an effort.

As of this moment, I know how I’m getting from Chicago to Bangor, Maine – planes, trains, and automobiles. After that it’s still a mystery. If I can get closer to the trailhead I’m sure I can arrange a shuttle, but I don’t know anything about the public transit system in Maine, so….we’ll see. I also checked the weather and found out that Sunday – the day I’m planning to climb Mt. Katahdin and start the trail – has a 50% chance of rain. Awesome! Next time I’ll check the weather before I make reservations.

Right now I’m so sick of all the prep that I just want to get on the trail and start hiking. Turning off email subscriptions and setting up auto-pays is only exciting for so long. Tomorrow’s going to be a pain getting a bunch of stuff moved into storage and taking care of the final prep work. But standing on top of Mt Katahdin ready to start the trek on Sunday is sure to make it all worth it.

Everyone that hikes the trail takes on a “trail name” for the length of their trip, so once I have mine I’ll use that on here.