March 19, 2008

Well that was a disaster. Owing to a number of delays, I didn't get out of Neel's Gap until nearly 5pm, which meant I only got about an hour or so of walking in before I made camp. I did so, but poorly. I picked an awful spot to camp, and to make a long story short, had a miserable night, owing to rain and very heavy wind all night. By morning, I'd gotten a lousy night's sleep and a lot of my stuff was a little moist.

Come morning it was still drizzly, windy, and extremely foggy. Visibility all morning was only about 30 yards. It was eerie and lonely being out in those conditions; I was half-expecting an Orc to emerge from the mist at any time.

By 10, there was a freight-train wind and the drizzle felt like pebbles. By 11, the drizzle had changed to wind-whipped sheets of rain.

I've been fighting off a bit of a cold, and my nose has been running pretty steadily, so all day, my nose dripped with mixture of rain, sweat and snot. I made Tesnatee Gap by noon - from there I was only 2 miles from Whitley Gap Shelter - it was uphill, but if I could make it by 2, I could get out of the storm.

Wildcat Mountain was the most brutal experience I've had since...hell, I don't know when. Soaking wet, cold, sniffling and sneezing, it was a steep drag uphill.

The book says Whitley Gap Shelter holds 7; and from experience I know that when they list a capacity, it truly is the maximum. I already knew of at least two, if not three, other hikers that were heading for Whitley Gap. As I staggered up Wildcat, two more passed me. It says something about the surrealness of the day that one of them was wearing an Abe Lincoln beard and a stovepipe hat; I said "Good Morning," he did the same and passed me.

That made five people in the shelter - two spots more left. Just as I reached the crest of Wildcat, another passed me. One spot in the shelter left. I turned onto the side trail, don't ask me why - and a quarter-mile down the side trail, a group of three 19-year-olds blew by me.

The next shelter after Whitley Gap is 5 miles. Even if I could make that - doubtful - it would almost certainly be full. Door number two was pitching tarp and hammock in what looked to be an all day storm. Door number three was another mile up the AT - Georgia road 348, and stick out my thumb.

The priest drove a Lexus, the Levite a minivan, but my Good Samaritan was a white Ford pickup belonging to a lawn-service company. I had to sit in the bed (there were two in the cab, and I was really wet), but they gave me a lift off the Mountain to Blairsville. They dropped me off at a Motel, where I struggled mightily to sign the credit-card slip - my fingers having cramped up from the cold on the drive down. But half an hour later, my clothes were drying, and I was in the shower.

By 6pm, the rain had stopped, and I took a stroll around the little downtown. Blairsville City Hall is on the National Registry of Historic Places, and the Police HQ is next door in a doublewide. Dinner at a Mom and Pop, and tuck myself into my king-sized bed by 10:00.

All day, I've felt in my legs and in my lungs how out of shape I am. I envied every one of those younger guys their strength and speed, but as I settled into sleep, I was glad for what I did have - an American Express card.

March 18, 2008

Woke up this morning to a hot breakfast cooked by Pirate. Pirate runs the hostel part of this place during the busy season which is now through April. After that, he'll pick up his own pack and as he says, "Pass 'em all." Long retired, he's been working the hostel for 17 years. Except for the few months he spends here, he basically lives out of his tent and hikes all year.

This morning, most everyone that was here yesterday cleared out - the only ones left were me and Five Stones. He came in yesterday just a bit ahead of me, but he's got nasty blisters on both heels and was instructed by the guides here to lay up for a day.

Today was originally supposed to be a zero day for me too. I had a bunch of errands to run, and they were gonna take all day, and it would be a nice rest. All week long, as I've been pretty much the slowest guy out here, I've kept in mind the last thing Josh from the hostel told us when he dropped us off at Springer on Thursday. "It's a turtle's game," he said. "The turtle always wins."

So I'm not bothered that I've only been averaging 6 miles a day so far. But turtle is one thing and sloth is another. It's 2:00, and I've gotten most of my chores done. In another hour, I can be ready to go. A mile and a half uphill seems a nice way to end the day.

March 17, 2008

Wonderful day. Blood Mountain was tough, but my legs and my lungs are noticeably stronger after 5 days on the trail. Made it up to the top a full hour before I expected to. For some reason, I was thinking today was Sunday, so I had a little Church service up on the peak - I figured I owed it to Johnny Cash to let him sing a few hymns since he'd been a huge help getting up the mountain. "Solitary Man" gets the testosterone pumping for those 45 degree uphill sections.

From the peak, it was a steep 2 miles into Neel's Gap, where my hike ended for today. Neel's is home to a combination outfitter and hostel located directly on the trail - in fact the trail runs right through the breezeway.

Re-met many people here that I'd run across over the last few days, including Corkscrew, who I'd been with on the peak of Springer (I need to explain about Trail Names sometime). I arrived at Neel's at about 4. Within an hour my clothes were in a washing machine and I was in a shower. Oh, does hot water feel good after 5 days of stink.

Within another hour, I was en route to a free meal. Cloud 9 is another hiker hostel, located 40 or so miles farther up the trail, and they held a St. Patrick's Day party. 35 or so current thru-hikes, past thru-hikers, and locals all eating potluck, and anybody invited. Since the folks who run the hostel also own a trout farm, that was pretty prominent on the menu and since this was my first real meal since Wednesday I ate pretty huge.

I drove us back to Neel's by about 9:30 (the hostel having loaned us their van for the drive over - how cool is that?), and collapsed into bed not long after. Alas I'd had 2 cokes at the cookout and the first caffeine in a few days has me up at 2am writing in my journal in the hostel's lounge area! Which is fine, as it gives me a chance to finish a story.

Three days ago I mentioned spending a few hours over lunch with a guy named Frank. He was one of the first people I ran into when I arrived today. Frank looks to be about 30 or so, with a stubby half-beard and multiple ear piercings. He damn near chain-smokes Camel Wides. You look at him, and he might be the guy working at Jiffy Lube and spending every weekend getting hammered.

But talk to him, and you get a guy who is sincere, considerate...really, the word that comes to mind is "sweet," if that doesn't sound too gay to say. When I arrive, he tells me that after I fell behind him three days ago, he was worried about me. From anyone else, I'd call this bullshit; I haven't been out here long enough to make friends - we're all just acquaintances here. I'm sure as heck not worrying about anyone else; I've got quite enough on my own plate, thank you. But from Frank, I really believe he means it.

Not, I should hasten to clarify, that Frank is some kind of softy. His pack weighs 60 pounds, and he moves pretty quick with it. He started out from Amicalola Falls with a pack that weighed 90, and he got that up Springer Mountain. He started out with his brother, but bro. dropped out after a couple of days. With pack weights like that, I'm not surprised.

Frank is only planning to hike to Damascus, VA, about 1/5 of the whole AT. He couldn't get longer than that off work. He is a househusband, and spends his days taking care of his two daughters, ages 3 and 9 months. He enjoys his work immensely, and I do not doubt for a minute that he is a terrific dad. It's not his first career choice, though; he's doing it because he's legally disabled.

Frank is going blind. He has a form of Macular Degeneration that already blocks parts of his vision, and is getting worse. He can see enough to hike, but to read a map, this strong, sweet guy in the prime of his life has to hunch over and hold a magnifying glass an inch away from the paper. It's not just the cigarettes and the 12 pairs of socks that make that pack so heavy - he's also carrying daily doses of a non-FDA-approved experimental medication that they're hoping can arrest the deterioration of his sight. It's too soon to know if it will work.

When we were talking in Hawk Mountain Shelter, we discussed our reasons for hiking the AT. I explained my mid-life ennui and need for a challenge; Frank simply said that "I wanted to get out of here and see what I could see before..." He didn't finish the sentence.

When you're out by yourself or the trail, going hours without seeing another person, it's natural to think primarily of yourself. If you have a flair for romance and drama, which I most certainly do, it's easy to start thinking of yourself and your hike in noble or poetic terms. But the reality is that there are a thousand stories out on the trail tonight, and every one of them is important.

Frank pulled out this afternoon, about 3 hours before dark. He'd hooked up with another heavily-pierced (I saw 6, including the tongue) and tattooed nice guy going by Mike the Wanderer. Mike also has a huge pack, partly full of dog food for his beagle, Shiva. They wanted to get a few miles in before making camp up on the ridge tonight.

Frank is manifestly more capable of taking care of himself out here than I am. And yet, as I sit in a warm well-lighted room at 3am on a cold night, I can't help but be worried for him.

March 14, 2008

Or not. Overslept and didn't get going until 9:30. Off-and-on rain all day. A lot of mist in the mountains gave made it a beautiful, if wet, day. Rain picked up toward noon, but made Hawk Mountain shelter and spent a long lunch with a guy named Frank who's doing a section hike (to VA). Very interesting guy - hope I run into him again, but I doubt it - he, like everyone else on the AT, hikes faster than I do. We both left the shelter at 2:30, but he quickly pulled away. By 5, I was only as far as Horse Gap, but there were 2 guys already camped there, so I called it a day. Only 5 miles but I'm pacing myself, right? Either that or I'm an enormous candy-ass; your call.

March 15, 2008

Rained all day and not drizzle either. Thunder and lightning, turn the trail into a creek, feel the water squishing in your shoes rain. Hail, too, on occasion.

Made Gooch Mountain shelter by 2:30, and called it a day. It's kept raining off and on, but hopefully it'll be dry enough tonight to let some of our gear dry out. Right now, the shelter is festooned with dirty socks and pants flapping in the breeze. Looks like someone stuck a grenade in a homeless guy's shopping cart.

March 16, 2008

Handy tip #1 (possibly a series) - on a sunny day following a rainy one, strap on your wet, muddy clothes to the outside of your pack, in order to dry. As an added bonus, the aroma will scare away hostile wildlife

Day started cold - 40 degrees at 8 am - but it was sunny and 60 (if breezy) by the time I made Woody Gap, where there is a highway crossing and a few picnic tables. Made good time (for me) in the AM, but then squandered it by taking almost a full hour for lunch there. It's OK - if I can't sit and enjoy a scenic overlook on a sunny day, what's the point of the trip?

Hiked from 9am to 5:30pm and covered 8 miles, including a couple tough uphills. Felt OK at the end, like I could have done more, but decided to call it a day since the next water source was 3 full miles and it'd be pushing dark to try for that. Camped by some nameless creek next to a father and son thru-hiking. I'm not sure I'm high on their chances of finishing - dad looks to be pushing 400, son is about 10 and does not look to have a 6-month attention span, and both of them are carrying food bags heavy on the Hershey bars and Little Debbies. But they are having a father-son adventure, and I'm not sure anyone on the AT is having more fun.

Tomorrow will be 5 straight miles uphill, ending at Blood Mountain, about 1600 feet up from where I am now. But after that, it's only 2 miles downhill to Neel's Gap. At Neel's Gap there is food and hopefully a bed...

On the MP3 player today: U2. When I was a Sophmore in high school, I played my cassette of U2's War album until it just snapped from overuse. Some day, they will make a Guitar Hero verson of "Like a Song" or "Sunday, Bloody Sunday," and I will own.

Hello, I'm Denise and I'm going to be logging some journal entries for Eric. This is the first packet I got from him, and so the dates will probably be slightly off.

March 13, 2008

Hostel last night was terrific. Very nice, new, log building. Counting myself and John, who was picked up from the train about the same time, they had 9 people there who were starting thru-hikes today. If I was under any illusion that I was trying something unique, that would do it.

Woke up at 7 am to a fire alarm- Josh, the hostel owner got a little careless making breakfast. It's okay - I'll trade a rude wake up for French Toast and eggs any day.

After eating, Josh and his wife Leigh took two loads of us over to Springer to start. And already I've deviated from plan. I was planning to do the approach trail but since everybody else was just getting dropped off at the road that runs up near the peak, I caved to peer pressure and did the same. Actually, the only reason I was considering the approach trail was because I thought that's what "everyone" did. It actually makes a lot more sense, from a pacing-yourself point of view, to pass on trying a steep 10-mile uphill for your first day.

On the drive to the trail, Josh amused us with stories from his time running the hostel. (He owns Earl Shaffer's old VW minibus! If you know who Earl Shaffer was, you know how cool this is.) Josh is of the opinion that the numbers that ATC keeps for thru-hike success rates are a myth - they say that about 25% for attempts succeed, but Josh thinks they real number is only 10-15%.

Supporting his case were the 9 of us this morning. Since we did not go through Amicalola Falls we did not sign the book there. And while the ATC does hire someone to sit at the top of Springer and count people starting out, that guy does get days off, and apparently today was one of them. There is a book to sign at the peak, but most people just put their names - there's no way to differentiate people starting thru-hikes from just your normal weekend/spring break hikers. If all 9 of us quit after a week, we would not show up in the records; we'd vanish like a lost platoon.

Of course, if we finish you can bet we'll tell the whole world.

The walk today was nice and easy for the most part. 1 mile South from the road crossing up to the top of Springer, stop for the obligatory Kodak moments and prayers, then turn around and come back the way you came. By 12:30, I was at Stover Creek shelter, and I had to decide what to do - it was too early to knock off, but if I pushed on to Hawk Mountain shelter it would take me until 5 or 6 to get there, uphill all afternoon. Given that I only got 7 hours of sleep last night (snoring in the hostel didn't help) and almost none the night before (geeked up on adrenaline and nerves) I wasn't sure if that was a great idea.

It was, even though I never did make Hawk Mountain. Around 2:30, I took a short side trail over to Long Creek Falls. As soon as I arrived, I immediately knew I was done for the day. Partly because 6 miles was, to my mind, a nice, modest first day, but also because it's a gorgeous spot.

I'll get some pictures posted, but for now suffice it to say that the falls drop about 30 feet in the middle of a secluded little glen. I pitched my hammock about 40 yards downstream from the falls, literally five feet from the creek. If only it was warmer (It's in the low 60s), I could wade in the creek and it'd be perfect.

I've enjoyed a nice lazy afternoon had a mac-and-cheese-and-tuna dinner, and now I'm finished my journal. It's now almost 6, and I've got an hour or so left to read before dark. Good night's sleep means an early start tomorrow.

Neel's Gap

Made Neel's Gap 3/17 and spent 24 hours. Heading out tonight fed, showered and laundered. Full entries on the last few days to come as soon as USPS gets them to Dee and she is able to get them posted. I've been taking short days this week, so I've had plenty of time to write, so they're pretty long ... so it may be awhile.

Snap to reality

His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy ...

Well, it’s the night before zero hour. I’m posting this from the Hiker Hostel in Dahlonega, GA, and I’m feeling like the cowboy on top of the bull, just waiting for that bell. I’m so so so tired of sitting and thinking and planning; so glad to be out there tomorrow.

Started the day with breakfast with my brother in Florida, said goodbye to the nephews, then Tina drove me up to Orlando for my flight to Atlanta. Took the train as far as it took me, then got picked up by the good folks that run the hostel.

In the morning, they'll drop me off at Amicalola Falls. From there, it’s ten miles uphill to the top of Springer Mountain, the official start of the AT. I don’t even actually plan on making that in one day; I’ll camp after about 7 miles or so, and make the summit Friday midmorning. It seems a bit lame to take over a day doing the approach trail, but one of the bits of advice I’ve gotten from every single thru-hiker I’ve talked to or read is the importance of starting slow. People who try to do fifteen miles a day right out of the gate tend to go home after two weeks with stress fractures or shin splints or aching knees or …

I’m taking the advice. Especially since one of the things I really dropped the ball on has been my physical prep. I was doing pretty good with the workouts this fall, but the Christmas hit, then I worked doubles in January, then had surgery in Feb … bottom line, I haven’t been in the gym more than a dozen days in the last 3 months, and I’m hitting the trail as a 240-pound tub of goo. Not the fattest, though; I read about a guy who started from Springer over three bills and finished, so if he did it …

Reminds me of a conversation I had last March with a guy doing a thru. We were stopped at nice spot with a view, discussing the psychology involved in keeping oneself going, and I said that when discouraged, one could always think of all the people who’d done it before: fat guys, little kids hiking with their parents, Emma Gatewood (woman in her 70s), and Bill Irwin (blind). If all of those people finished, how hard can it really be?

“That’s one way of looking at it,” he said. “Another way is that people have died trying this.”

Yes, well, there is that. I also remember the quote from Emma Gatewood that they have in her Wikipedia entry: "I thought it would be a nice lark," she said, adding, "It wasn't."

Not that any of that matters at this point; I’m finished reading about other people’s hikes for awhile. I aim to make Neel’s Gap by Tuesday, and Blood Mountain’s in the way.

So here I go it’s my shot,
Feet fail me not.

Just a note

Just a quick note to point out a few things and pass on some info.

First: on the right are some links you might find useful

-- The Appalachian Trail Conservancy is the umbrella organization that more or less runs the trail.
-- The Map is pretty much what it sounds like
-- The Companion is an online guidebook that has detailed info about every mile of the trail. I will have a newer version of this in paper with me.
-- TrailJournals is a huge website where hikers post their journals. If you like this site, you can get lots more of the same there.
-- Whiteblaze.net is another huge website, and their forums contain legions of AT enthusiasts.

Second: feel free to comment on any posts by clicking on the link at the bottom of each one; obviously, though, it'll be a few days before I see them.

Third: Because several of you have asked, here is my rough itinerary, listing when I hope to be in some significant towns:

4/4
Fontana Dam, NC
28733

5/1
Damascus, VA
24236

5/16
Pearisburg, VA
24134

6/3
Waynesboro, VA
22980

6/16
Harper's Ferry, WV
25425

6/23
Palmyra, PA

7/5
Delaware Water Gap, PA
18327

7/20
Kent, CT
06757

8/13
Hanover, NH
03755

9/6
Caratunk, ME
04925

Trail Magic

Last spring break, I took off to the mountains of western North Carolina to spend some time on the AT. It was early April, which meant that the majority of people that had set out from Springer Mountain on about March 15 would be in the Wayah Bald/NOC area. My goal, (besides getting in a few days walking) was to do some brain-picking and get their impressions of the first 100 miles. I parked my jeep at Fontana Dam, paid $40 for a shuttle back to Wayah Bald, and intended to spend the next five days walking back to the car.

Just few hours into the trip, I was in a bad mood. I'd forgotten my hiking poles and left them in the car; now I was going to have to do without them for the rest of the way (and believe me, hiking poles make a BIG difference on steep sections of trail). I was ruminating blackly on the unforgiving nature of the trail -- make one mistake and you will suffer for days -- when I stepped into Burningtown Gap.

The trail opened up into a clearing, and there was a dirt forest service road leading off to one side. But what grabbed the attention was the absolutely enormous geodesic dome tent. When I say enormous, I mean huge. I mean colossal. I mean a thirty-foot diameter and a ceiling eleven feet high. You could park a car in this thing. I've had smaller apartments.

As I stood there wondering what twelve people had decided to camp here, the owner walked out and greeted me. It was occupied by some guy going by the name of "Apple." This guy had set up camp for a week, and was running a feeding station for every hungry hiker that passed through. Inside the tent were sodas, chips, and – mirabile dictu – a hibachi cooking up hot dogs.

I spent an hour in there, and it was wonderful. Not because of the food (when I explained that I was not doing a thru-hike, but merely a section, he gently made it clear I had a strict one-dog, one-coke limit), but just because of the wonder of seeing someone go to all this effort and expense to help out people he didn’t know from Adam.

This was one of my first exposures to Trail Magic.

Trail Magic is a term thruhikers use to describe the happy and fortuitous things that can happen in the midst of a grueling hike. It might be getting a hitch into town for resupply and having someone offer to help you run a couple errands along the way, it might be running into someone that has extra batteries just as yours run out. In many cases, it involves random people who go out of their way to seek out thruhikers and offer help of one kind or another. 99% of the cases are not so extreme as that one in Burningtown Gap; it’s often just a couple people who decide to spend a day sitting by the side of the AT passing out apples and Gatorade (and no, it isn’t THAT common either – in probably a dozen days spent hiking on the AT, I’ve experienced magic twice.). Some of these people don’t even live near the trail; I’ve heard of people who take vacation days just to drive a hundred miles and provide magic.

In that sense, there’s nothing at all “magical” about Trail Magic; it weren’t sky pixies that spent four grand on a megatent and three coolers worth of food, then drove it all up there, it was just a guy. But the magic comes from seeing the spirit of the people who do it: people willing to put themselves out of time and money, expecting nothing at all in return but a “thank you,” a new friend, and the chance to help a complete and total stranger along on their own journey. If that isn’t magic, I don’t know what the word means.

So why am I telling this story? On Sunday I was in a rotten mood for several reasons, one of them being that I was feeling swamped with all the stuff I had to get done before I left. One specific thing that I had to get done was finding someone who could keep this website updated while I was on the trail. I had known for months that my goal was to find some helpful person to whom I could mail my handwritten journals, and who would then post them on the internet, but people who know me well know that asking for favors is not something I do well (I’m the guy who gives himself a hernia because he insists he can carry that sofa upstairs by himself), and so I had put off finding a transcriber. Finally, facing the fact that I was ten days away from my departure, I put out some desperate, pathetic online feelers to the AT community. Um, anybody out there wanna invest multiple hours of your time typing up someone else’s diary?

Within 24 hours, I had a half-dozen offers to help. Every single one was from a complete stranger. You call it what you like; I’m calling it magic.

I’ve got six days left till I leave, and about eight billion things to get done, so I’ll probably only have a short post or two before leaving. Once I’m underway, I’ll be mailing my scribblings to Dee, Peter and Bob, who will be posting them here, as well as crossposting them at Trailjournals.com. I’ll be checking in as much as I’m able, but as I expect my internet time to be limited to an hour or less when I get into a town once a week or so, they’re going to be my voice.