Boo boo boo! Not much time left! Short post.
I'm in Hot Springs, taking a zero day. Took a while to get here. Some days I've had no energy, just dragging out 7 or 9 miles. I think it's a calorie issue. Must fix. Getting tired not of cold food, but limited options cold food provides. Thinking about making a beer can stove. Peas and rice courtesy Jeramiah were great yesterday morning.
Many people are very casual about making it to Maine this season, and sometimes I find myself among them. I do just want to have a good time. J. and I ran into a southbounder who started last July (and took the winter off), who showed us his pictures from Maine to Max Patch (Tennessee). It was pretty inspiring for about ten minutes, and then I was going uphill again with no energy...
The Smokies were nice. I did a few days without J. as he had to go to doctor, but he caught up promptly. Max patch was rainy and viewless, but it's been nowhere near as wet as when we first entered NC. Yesterday was fantastic. The 18 miles (longest day) into Hot Springs were a ridiculously lush landscape, grasses and flowers leaning into the trail, white moths fluttering here and there, a light drizzle, the sun shimmering off of all the damp leaves.
But ah, I have an Ashley to meet! Post soon, I hope! See last year's post on this section and Hot Springs and the Sunnybank Inn.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Alive and Well!
I am home for graduation until tomorrow morning, so no time to tell ALL the stories. See for yourself by browsing my pictures.
PICTURES HERE!
I feel great. The AT never gives you what you expect. These three weeks have been far different from the three weeks of 2008 for me, and I love them all the same. I have been moving slowly, and many people have been passing me, but I am healthy and grateful for it. I also settled in with a group for two weeks, making friends I hope to keep in touch with for a long time. People and places have been beautiful.
On April 20, my dad drove me to the Forest Service road dropoff a mile from the top of Springer Mountain in Georgia. At about 6:30 in the evening I tapped the first white blaze of the trail and looked out over the horizon. I spent the night alone in the nearby shelter, where the magnified sounds of mice frightened me until I realized what they were. I finally met other hikers the next day, including a couple with a dog, an overloaded anthropology/art student named Tex, and an easygoing dude called You. I also met a fellow from Raleigh I wouldn't mind having coffee with later, who knows? This group hiked on, and I ended up camping one night with a pair of guys filming for their YouTube adventure show. They gave me beer and regaled me with tales of undercover work for the FBI. They filmed me in some of their segments, but why would I want to show you those?
I spent my fourth official night at Woods Hole shelter and acted the crankbasket. Having decided to get up very early to hike to the sunrise on Blood Mountain, I was greatly annoyed by a combination of hikers who decided to talk loudly around a campfire well after dark. I lay in my sleeping bag stewing, contemplating exactly how I would describe in the blog. When I heard them say they would be spending the next night at the hostel at Neel's Gap, I promptly decided that I was going to avoid them and take a nero (near-zero-mileage day) at the top of Blood Mountain. None of the group seemed so bad in the morning, but I had made my mind up. Yet the mustiness of the Blood Mountain shelter was more than even Ashley could have tolerated (built by the CCC, very interesting at least), so I gave in and hiked to the hostel for the night, making it in right before the place closed. I stayed there for two nights with Thomas and Jeremiah from Cincinnati, and Maddie and Vinnie from Louisville, and took back all the bad thoughts I thought. I seemed the odd one out, but I think we discovered much in common, and I was to hike with most of them for the next two weeks.
Jeremiah became my special hiking partner, as we hiked similar speeds throughout the day. The first night out of Neel's Gap we had the shelter to ourselves for quite a while, and we talked for a long time. About education, and anarchy, and veganism and feminism, consumerism and dumpster diving, religion and ghosts, and more. I confessed how I had judged him and disliked him at first, and he confessed how he had judged me. Quite the learning moment. He has some atypical life experience under his belt as a homeless traveler for the past two years. He has no money whatsoever, but a good mother. He hiked 1500 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail last year. He had to postpone the start of his hike for a few weeks because he had an unexpected stay at Orleans Parish Prison for a minor infraction. He is smart and talented, and I expect great things from him, college or no. I may hike with him through the Smokies next week.
There has been a lot of rain, nearly every day for over a week, from our stop in Hiawasee, GA to our arrival at the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC) in Wesser, NC. Amazingly, my feet stayed healthy. A few blisters, but nothing to write home about. My tarp has kept me sufficiently dry when I camp, and my cook-less food strategy has satisfied me, honest! I AM a bit fed up with the menu, to be truthful, but I'm not sure switching to cooking would make a big difference. I have had a lot of peanut butter, ramen, oatmeal, raisins, trail mix, textured vegetable protein, chili mix, and energy bars. In camp we sit around dreaming up fantasy foods, or saying what we're going to eat when we get to town (chips and salsa for me!).
There have been several good instances of Trail Magic. The basic kind is the box full of food and cooler full of drinks left at a road crossing, and we met one of those. At Neel's Gap, a fellow named Cool Breeze took me to the grocery store for vegetables and grilled them at his cabin for me, then he and his roommates showed me a nice waterfall. Rickety van + darkening woods + ax in the floor were all kind of creepy and reminded me to be careful, but Cool Breeze remained a cool guy. After we left Neel's Gap he hiked from the north to cross us, bringing a fresh tomato for me, and whiskey and more as well. Even food and a tent for some of the others. Genuine generosity. A pair of hikers gave Jeremiah beer, which he shared. And at the NOC, by pure lucky timing and getting lost on the NOC campus, we ran into an NOC employee who invited us to a potluck the following night, just one ridge away from the AT. We filled up with food and beer and wine and music and campfire, and enjoyed the most amazing privy.
The next day the property owner, Monty, walked over the ridge to our campsite to invite us back for more fire and alcohol. He shared his corn liquor with us, and then gave me a bag full of organic greens form his garden: cabbage, lettuces, horseradish, cilantro, basil, mint, radish, and possibly oregano. AND he arranged for a friend to take Maddie and Vinnie and Thomas to the Trail Days festival in Damascus, VA this week. Jeremiah and I hiked on to Fontana Dam, where my brother picked me up for graduation. Libations all around.
Mini stories:
-A hiker named John took my leftover vegan burger, dopped it on the ground, then picked it back up and ate it. He said he thought it was chicken, and wouldn't have picked it up if he'd known it was vegan. Ha.
-A hiker named Dan creeped me out at first, especially when he said he felt like he lost his soul (as Vinnie and I were picking animal shapes out of cloud shadows). No disrespect if you are reading, Dan. I was glad to see him chill out later. Another instance of misjudging.
-At Blue Mountain shelter, a mama mouse was moving babies from place to place in the rafters and dropped one. Poor baby mousie was so tiny, and cried and squeaked. We left the shelter alone for several hours hoping mama would come, but maybe she couldn't crawl up the vertical wall with him in her mouth. Jeremiah took baby mousie in one hand, and with the other scaled a wall the rest of us couldn't climb with two, and put baby mousie in the rafters. Mouse family came out and squeaked. Then mama came and picked up baby and took him back to the nest. (I know you're thinking they ate him, but they could have done that where he fell. Maybe they ate him, maybe they snuggled him. But in any case, he was no longer squeaking and lonely. Problem solved. Jeremiah the Hero.)
-In Franklin, the laundry owners told Jeremiah and me to put our backpacks outside because they were smelling up the place. We did as they wanted, but we knew the smell was really coming from our selves. Smelly packs are later in the game.
-On top of Tray Mountain, we could see town lights below in the night. We could also see bright points in the hills from the many campfires out there.
-I started throwing a knife for fun. I hit the blue blaze target on the tree and chipped the blue paint off. Cool Breeze started calling me "Barfight Brittany" out of irony, but the rest of the group picked it up when glimmers of badassery such as this started showing up.
-More than one hiking group considers itself to be a Fellowship. When they split up, they take on individual identities. Aragorn seems to be popular. I consider myself a Sam or Pippin, honestly.
-I don't know what my trail name is yet. It would be Barfight if the others have anything to say about it, but I don't want to be mistaken as pretentious. I tried to take on Tiger Lily after an exchange in a hostel ("Tell us a bedtime story." "[rolls eyes] I don't know any stories.") started me thinking of Peter Pan, but it seems not to have stuck.
-One time I woke up feeling something tugging on my hair, and then I heard the skittering of tiny feet. I think the mousies wanted my hair for the nest. Who wouldn't? Honest mistake.
So the plan is to go to graduation today, leave for Trail Days with Daniel tomorrow, pick up Jeremiah there, and be dropped off at Fontana early next week. Will the Smokies kick my butt? We'll see. And the camera is charged this time around. See you on the trail, hopefully with more frequent updates.
PICTURES HERE!
I feel great. The AT never gives you what you expect. These three weeks have been far different from the three weeks of 2008 for me, and I love them all the same. I have been moving slowly, and many people have been passing me, but I am healthy and grateful for it. I also settled in with a group for two weeks, making friends I hope to keep in touch with for a long time. People and places have been beautiful.
 |
| From SCA and AT 2009 |
On April 20, my dad drove me to the Forest Service road dropoff a mile from the top of Springer Mountain in Georgia. At about 6:30 in the evening I tapped the first white blaze of the trail and looked out over the horizon. I spent the night alone in the nearby shelter, where the magnified sounds of mice frightened me until I realized what they were. I finally met other hikers the next day, including a couple with a dog, an overloaded anthropology/art student named Tex, and an easygoing dude called You. I also met a fellow from Raleigh I wouldn't mind having coffee with later, who knows? This group hiked on, and I ended up camping one night with a pair of guys filming for their YouTube adventure show. They gave me beer and regaled me with tales of undercover work for the FBI. They filmed me in some of their segments, but why would I want to show you those?
 |
| Maddie and Vinnie, from SCA and AT 2009 |
I spent my fourth official night at Woods Hole shelter and acted the crankbasket. Having decided to get up very early to hike to the sunrise on Blood Mountain, I was greatly annoyed by a combination of hikers who decided to talk loudly around a campfire well after dark. I lay in my sleeping bag stewing, contemplating exactly how I would describe in the blog. When I heard them say they would be spending the next night at the hostel at Neel's Gap, I promptly decided that I was going to avoid them and take a nero (near-zero-mileage day) at the top of Blood Mountain. None of the group seemed so bad in the morning, but I had made my mind up. Yet the mustiness of the Blood Mountain shelter was more than even Ashley could have tolerated (built by the CCC, very interesting at least), so I gave in and hiked to the hostel for the night, making it in right before the place closed. I stayed there for two nights with Thomas and Jeremiah from Cincinnati, and Maddie and Vinnie from Louisville, and took back all the bad thoughts I thought. I seemed the odd one out, but I think we discovered much in common, and I was to hike with most of them for the next two weeks.
 |
| Jeremiah, from SCA and AT 2009 |
Jeremiah became my special hiking partner, as we hiked similar speeds throughout the day. The first night out of Neel's Gap we had the shelter to ourselves for quite a while, and we talked for a long time. About education, and anarchy, and veganism and feminism, consumerism and dumpster diving, religion and ghosts, and more. I confessed how I had judged him and disliked him at first, and he confessed how he had judged me. Quite the learning moment. He has some atypical life experience under his belt as a homeless traveler for the past two years. He has no money whatsoever, but a good mother. He hiked 1500 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail last year. He had to postpone the start of his hike for a few weeks because he had an unexpected stay at Orleans Parish Prison for a minor infraction. He is smart and talented, and I expect great things from him, college or no. I may hike with him through the Smokies next week.
There has been a lot of rain, nearly every day for over a week, from our stop in Hiawasee, GA to our arrival at the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC) in Wesser, NC. Amazingly, my feet stayed healthy. A few blisters, but nothing to write home about. My tarp has kept me sufficiently dry when I camp, and my cook-less food strategy has satisfied me, honest! I AM a bit fed up with the menu, to be truthful, but I'm not sure switching to cooking would make a big difference. I have had a lot of peanut butter, ramen, oatmeal, raisins, trail mix, textured vegetable protein, chili mix, and energy bars. In camp we sit around dreaming up fantasy foods, or saying what we're going to eat when we get to town (chips and salsa for me!).
 |
| Cool Breeze, from SCA and AT 2009 |
 |
| From SCA and AT 2009 |
There have been several good instances of Trail Magic. The basic kind is the box full of food and cooler full of drinks left at a road crossing, and we met one of those. At Neel's Gap, a fellow named Cool Breeze took me to the grocery store for vegetables and grilled them at his cabin for me, then he and his roommates showed me a nice waterfall. Rickety van + darkening woods + ax in the floor were all kind of creepy and reminded me to be careful, but Cool Breeze remained a cool guy. After we left Neel's Gap he hiked from the north to cross us, bringing a fresh tomato for me, and whiskey and more as well. Even food and a tent for some of the others. Genuine generosity. A pair of hikers gave Jeremiah beer, which he shared. And at the NOC, by pure lucky timing and getting lost on the NOC campus, we ran into an NOC employee who invited us to a potluck the following night, just one ridge away from the AT. We filled up with food and beer and wine and music and campfire, and enjoyed the most amazing privy.
 |
| From SCA and AT 2009 |
 |
| Monty and Natalie, from SCA and AT 2009 |
The next day the property owner, Monty, walked over the ridge to our campsite to invite us back for more fire and alcohol. He shared his corn liquor with us, and then gave me a bag full of organic greens form his garden: cabbage, lettuces, horseradish, cilantro, basil, mint, radish, and possibly oregano. AND he arranged for a friend to take Maddie and Vinnie and Thomas to the Trail Days festival in Damascus, VA this week. Jeremiah and I hiked on to Fontana Dam, where my brother picked me up for graduation. Libations all around.
Mini stories:
 |
| From SCA and AT 2009 |
-A hiker named John took my leftover vegan burger, dopped it on the ground, then picked it back up and ate it. He said he thought it was chicken, and wouldn't have picked it up if he'd known it was vegan. Ha.
-A hiker named Dan creeped me out at first, especially when he said he felt like he lost his soul (as Vinnie and I were picking animal shapes out of cloud shadows). No disrespect if you are reading, Dan. I was glad to see him chill out later. Another instance of misjudging.
-At Blue Mountain shelter, a mama mouse was moving babies from place to place in the rafters and dropped one. Poor baby mousie was so tiny, and cried and squeaked. We left the shelter alone for several hours hoping mama would come, but maybe she couldn't crawl up the vertical wall with him in her mouth. Jeremiah took baby mousie in one hand, and with the other scaled a wall the rest of us couldn't climb with two, and put baby mousie in the rafters. Mouse family came out and squeaked. Then mama came and picked up baby and took him back to the nest. (I know you're thinking they ate him, but they could have done that where he fell. Maybe they ate him, maybe they snuggled him. But in any case, he was no longer squeaking and lonely. Problem solved. Jeremiah the Hero.)
-In Franklin, the laundry owners told Jeremiah and me to put our backpacks outside because they were smelling up the place. We did as they wanted, but we knew the smell was really coming from our selves. Smelly packs are later in the game.
-On top of Tray Mountain, we could see town lights below in the night. We could also see bright points in the hills from the many campfires out there.
-I started throwing a knife for fun. I hit the blue blaze target on the tree and chipped the blue paint off. Cool Breeze started calling me "Barfight Brittany" out of irony, but the rest of the group picked it up when glimmers of badassery such as this started showing up.
-More than one hiking group considers itself to be a Fellowship. When they split up, they take on individual identities. Aragorn seems to be popular. I consider myself a Sam or Pippin, honestly.
-I don't know what my trail name is yet. It would be Barfight if the others have anything to say about it, but I don't want to be mistaken as pretentious. I tried to take on Tiger Lily after an exchange in a hostel ("Tell us a bedtime story." "[rolls eyes] I don't know any stories.") started me thinking of Peter Pan, but it seems not to have stuck.
-One time I woke up feeling something tugging on my hair, and then I heard the skittering of tiny feet. I think the mousies wanted my hair for the nest. Who wouldn't? Honest mistake.
So the plan is to go to graduation today, leave for Trail Days with Daniel tomorrow, pick up Jeremiah there, and be dropped off at Fontana early next week. Will the Smokies kick my butt? We'll see. And the camera is charged this time around. See you on the trail, hopefully with more frequent updates.
 |
| From SCA and AT 2009 |
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
A New Hope
So here I am, Brittany, trying again. Daniel may be inspired to continue to post about his past adventure, so unless he backdates his posts we may be seeing some 2008 info mixed in here in the future. Other than that, I think it's my story now. :)
To review: I hiked for two weeks last year, probably got a stress fracture, and hiked another week on said fracture. Daniel did not fully appreciate the badassery of my pain tolerance, and I did not fully appreciate my own stupidity. I said I was going to train and build bone hardness before I started again...but that flopped a little flop. Weight training in the fall was awesome, and January running was likewise, but I seem to have trouble with keeping interested in a single thing long term. Hm, 6-month hike...?
My plan for the near future: I will leave Monday, April 20. It was to be earlier, but I would have needed different gear. I'll be taking it RIDICULOUSLY easy to begin with, 5-7 miles a day the first week. Which means no 8-mile approach trail the first day. We'll drive to the summit and I'll backtrack to Springer Mountain to "start." I've already sworn not to become attached to hikers I meet early on, because I WILL NOT attempt to keep up. I will go at my RIDICULOUSLY slow pace. All attempts to trail-name me "Turtle" or "Escargot" will be countered with voodoo and bear-attractant spray. I'll take regular zero days to rest and heal, and I'll stop when I feel like I need to. I'll trust myself on this, and be liberal about it. Assuming I'm still good after three weeks, I'll be picked up to attend my department's spring graduation ceremony. I have a master's degree, darn it, and I need to make sure my "Younger Self" realizes it by attending this ritual. That break will take about a week since I depend on others for transport. Then, supposing all is well, it's back to the AT.
I realize I am statistically unlikely to complete a thru-hike. Something less than ten percent of those who attempt it complete it. So I'm not going to focus on that too much, and get bummed. Rather, this hike, however long it lasts, is about me. I have money and time to spare, and I'm going to have a good time. And it's about the time, not the distance or the places seen. I'll always be able to take a week off and see a magnificent peak, but I won't always be able to trudge along through the woods and enjoy myself with no commitments. In fact, I really need to get a job once this is over. A thru would be cool, and maybe it will happen, but it's not the goal anymore.
So wish me well, why don't you?
To review: I hiked for two weeks last year, probably got a stress fracture, and hiked another week on said fracture. Daniel did not fully appreciate the badassery of my pain tolerance, and I did not fully appreciate my own stupidity. I said I was going to train and build bone hardness before I started again...but that flopped a little flop. Weight training in the fall was awesome, and January running was likewise, but I seem to have trouble with keeping interested in a single thing long term. Hm, 6-month hike...?
My plan for the near future: I will leave Monday, April 20. It was to be earlier, but I would have needed different gear. I'll be taking it RIDICULOUSLY easy to begin with, 5-7 miles a day the first week. Which means no 8-mile approach trail the first day. We'll drive to the summit and I'll backtrack to Springer Mountain to "start." I've already sworn not to become attached to hikers I meet early on, because I WILL NOT attempt to keep up. I will go at my RIDICULOUSLY slow pace. All attempts to trail-name me "Turtle" or "Escargot" will be countered with voodoo and bear-attractant spray. I'll take regular zero days to rest and heal, and I'll stop when I feel like I need to. I'll trust myself on this, and be liberal about it. Assuming I'm still good after three weeks, I'll be picked up to attend my department's spring graduation ceremony. I have a master's degree, darn it, and I need to make sure my "Younger Self" realizes it by attending this ritual. That break will take about a week since I depend on others for transport. Then, supposing all is well, it's back to the AT.
I realize I am statistically unlikely to complete a thru-hike. Something less than ten percent of those who attempt it complete it. So I'm not going to focus on that too much, and get bummed. Rather, this hike, however long it lasts, is about me. I have money and time to spare, and I'm going to have a good time. And it's about the time, not the distance or the places seen. I'll always be able to take a week off and see a magnificent peak, but I won't always be able to trudge along through the woods and enjoy myself with no commitments. In fact, I really need to get a job once this is over. A thru would be cool, and maybe it will happen, but it's not the goal anymore.
So wish me well, why don't you?
Monday, January 26, 2009
AT Inn Wranglers: Eric and Mary
My days in Troutville Virginia were lazy days. I stayed up watching some oh so coveted television and eating the oh so coveted fruits and vegetables. Wanda treated me one last time at the home cooking restaurant down the road and then she dropped me off at the trail intersection. After saying our goodbyes, I did what I ritually did before leaving town, I called the family. I remember talking to my dad but I don't remember what we talked about much. He wished me a safe journey and I was on my way again.
Over the next couple of days, I got to meet some really great people. First off I met Eric and Mary. Both of them were West Point grads and both had been to Iraq which offered up perspective on our Middle East matters. Largely they were huge in letting me know what was actually going on over there with the surge, Iraqi culture, and the attitudes of the natives towards the US and their personal attitudes towards the war having experienced it first hand. Often times Eric would be telling me about his experiences and I was a bit embaressed when I had to ask questions or when he would ask me questions and I would be completely lost. The complexities of alliances, factions, places and events was like being in APUS history with Mr. Baker. No matter how hard I tried to concentrate on what Eric was telling me, it was just as confusing as our own history.
My reflection on these conversations just now tells me how much I was wrapped up in my own existence and personal goals for the first eight months of 2008. I knew about the primaries for the November election but didn't care, I heard about the surge, but didn't know the details or importance of it, then I worked day after day after day sometimes putting in 14 hours between three jobs. I worked harder than I ever have worked before and saved more than I have ever saved before and soon enough, four months had passed and it was May 5.
Eric and Mary really were wonderful people. Eric was 6' 4" 250lbs thinning on top of the skull and a full blooded Texan. Mary was about 5' 4", athletic build, short hair and wore a damn Carolina Blue shirt. I met them on my second night out of Troutville. I had pulled a 20 something miler and rolled into quite possibly the biggest damn shelter ever right at the edge of dark. They had just finished dinner and were hanging out. Eric was tuning the set to the channel of AT TV. After a while, a fire was going and we were all chit chatting trail talk, the same trail talk that everyone has. It follows loose guidelines of who you know, where you've been, something wacky thats happened in town and who you used to be.
For the next stretch into Waynesboro, I hiked with Eric and Mary farily consistently. It was more or less me crossing paths with them since their section from Troutville to Waynesboro was probablly about as hardcore as it gets. The first two nights they set up in shelters along the trail. After that, it was nothing but feather hard beds and showers for th next five nights. I don't know how they pulled it off but they managed pretty good under those harsh conditions comparable to an arctic winter.
MORE TO COME
how they wrangled 5 nights at Inns on the trail
My week off in Waynesboro
Wear a sheet, lose some sleep
AT reunion with Lonestar
Over the next couple of days, I got to meet some really great people. First off I met Eric and Mary. Both of them were West Point grads and both had been to Iraq which offered up perspective on our Middle East matters. Largely they were huge in letting me know what was actually going on over there with the surge, Iraqi culture, and the attitudes of the natives towards the US and their personal attitudes towards the war having experienced it first hand. Often times Eric would be telling me about his experiences and I was a bit embaressed when I had to ask questions or when he would ask me questions and I would be completely lost. The complexities of alliances, factions, places and events was like being in APUS history with Mr. Baker. No matter how hard I tried to concentrate on what Eric was telling me, it was just as confusing as our own history.
My reflection on these conversations just now tells me how much I was wrapped up in my own existence and personal goals for the first eight months of 2008. I knew about the primaries for the November election but didn't care, I heard about the surge, but didn't know the details or importance of it, then I worked day after day after day sometimes putting in 14 hours between three jobs. I worked harder than I ever have worked before and saved more than I have ever saved before and soon enough, four months had passed and it was May 5.
Eric and Mary really were wonderful people. Eric was 6' 4" 250lbs thinning on top of the skull and a full blooded Texan. Mary was about 5' 4", athletic build, short hair and wore a damn Carolina Blue shirt. I met them on my second night out of Troutville. I had pulled a 20 something miler and rolled into quite possibly the biggest damn shelter ever right at the edge of dark. They had just finished dinner and were hanging out. Eric was tuning the set to the channel of AT TV. After a while, a fire was going and we were all chit chatting trail talk, the same trail talk that everyone has. It follows loose guidelines of who you know, where you've been, something wacky thats happened in town and who you used to be.
For the next stretch into Waynesboro, I hiked with Eric and Mary farily consistently. It was more or less me crossing paths with them since their section from Troutville to Waynesboro was probablly about as hardcore as it gets. The first two nights they set up in shelters along the trail. After that, it was nothing but feather hard beds and showers for th next five nights. I don't know how they pulled it off but they managed pretty good under those harsh conditions comparable to an arctic winter.
MORE TO COME
how they wrangled 5 nights at Inns on the trail
My week off in Waynesboro
Wear a sheet, lose some sleep
AT reunion with Lonestar
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Yep, It's been a while
It's been quite a while since I have written in the blog and I don't even know if anybody cares any more. Enough said about that though. At least I think that everyone would like to know more about what happened after Big Daddy and the path pissers and Troutville. Even if you don't, I would at least like to write about it because I met a couple of people those last 300 miles who are very nice and interesting people offering up the cumin and oregeno which make my story slightly intersting as well.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Big Daddy, Ipod and the Path Pissers
This story comes to you from June. It's been about a month since I first met Big Daddy and Ipod, but they are two people that are worth mentioning.
BIg Daddy and Ipod are insurance salesmen from North Carolina. I think it was last year when they decided to do the whole trail together but alas, old men's knees don't work as well as they used to. Big Daddy's knees were going out of style around Hot Springs and they decided to section hike the trail instead. This time out they were doing the Damascus > Pearisburg section which is a cool 160 miles. I met them after a few days at the Partnership shelter. It is on the edge of the Mt Rogers National Recreation Area and I believe it is the only shower with a shower. Anyways, right off the bat, they start unloading their food bags on me. That night it was just some drink mix. I liked the Peach Tea Sarah, but they had FRUIT PUNCH!!!!
By late June, just starting Virginia is late and the other hikers trickle on through so finding good hiking buddies is not as easy and hiking all day and not seeing 5 people is pretty lonely. Although solitude is good, it's nice to share the day's experiences and talk with someone at the end of the day. Over the next week or so, we all hang together and I soon find out that Big Daddy sure can build a fire. The Knot Maul Shelter which I think is marked somewhere on the google map almost burned down because of him. All the wood was wet but sure enough he had some tricks up his sleeve and the fire was raging. You had to sit near about ten feet away so you wouldn't burn your leg hairs off. The rain that had hit us was of no consequence at this point because the inferno dried everything out.
Ipod on the other hand didn't have to say or do anything and he was instantly cool. I didn't know why but after talking a bit, I found out why he emitted cool. He is an NCSU alumni. Ipod got the name because he could sing just about any tune that you asked him to. His selection though was limited almost to the 60's through 80's. On a bus into town filled with senior citizens, I told all the little old ladies that story that he could sing anything and sure enough, they wanted to hear a song since he had such a beautiful voice. He and Big Daddy proceeded to sing Amazing Grace and I have a video to prove it!
AND NOW, THE REST OF THE STORY...
I cross the last road and am heading along this flat and I see two people stopped in the middle of the AT. They're looking at the ground and inspecting it. I thought that they dropped something and were trying to find it so I keep walking towards them and watching them. It appears that one person is just a very large, perhaps menatlly challenged, juvenile and the other person is the guardian and so I keep walking forward and watching, still wondering what the heck is going on and then I notice that the larger one has their pants down right in the middle of the trail. They have not realized that I just walked up on them and so I just turn around and stand in the path. I hear their mutterings. "Yall alright?" I yell back to them. "You're ok. Come on through" I walk past them, and see that it's two older ladies in their sixties and that they're clearly embaressed.
About an hour later, I catch Big Daddy and Ipod at the shelter and tell them the story. They remember the ladies in my story and their big reply, boils down to how all the older ladies like a man with a Flag or something like that. Horsefly catches us later on and I tell him the story too.
The next day, we all get up for a potential 30 miler around 6:00am and keep walk out around 7:00am. About a mile from the shelter, Fly and I are walking about 20 yds apart and then he stops and turns around. Jokingly I ask if someone was taking a piss in the path and he doesn't reply but all he says is "I remember what you said yesterday". Turns out, we have met the path pissers again. The same two older ladies, out for a walk and not taking a single step off the trail to do their biz. Just to forewarn all of you, don't piss in the middle of a trail or you will be caught by an unsuspecting hiker and you will end up in their trail journal or blog. What a story.
BIg Daddy and Ipod are insurance salesmen from North Carolina. I think it was last year when they decided to do the whole trail together but alas, old men's knees don't work as well as they used to. Big Daddy's knees were going out of style around Hot Springs and they decided to section hike the trail instead. This time out they were doing the Damascus > Pearisburg section which is a cool 160 miles. I met them after a few days at the Partnership shelter. It is on the edge of the Mt Rogers National Recreation Area and I believe it is the only shower with a shower. Anyways, right off the bat, they start unloading their food bags on me. That night it was just some drink mix. I liked the Peach Tea Sarah, but they had FRUIT PUNCH!!!!
By late June, just starting Virginia is late and the other hikers trickle on through so finding good hiking buddies is not as easy and hiking all day and not seeing 5 people is pretty lonely. Although solitude is good, it's nice to share the day's experiences and talk with someone at the end of the day. Over the next week or so, we all hang together and I soon find out that Big Daddy sure can build a fire. The Knot Maul Shelter which I think is marked somewhere on the google map almost burned down because of him. All the wood was wet but sure enough he had some tricks up his sleeve and the fire was raging. You had to sit near about ten feet away so you wouldn't burn your leg hairs off. The rain that had hit us was of no consequence at this point because the inferno dried everything out.
Ipod on the other hand didn't have to say or do anything and he was instantly cool. I didn't know why but after talking a bit, I found out why he emitted cool. He is an NCSU alumni. Ipod got the name because he could sing just about any tune that you asked him to. His selection though was limited almost to the 60's through 80's. On a bus into town filled with senior citizens, I told all the little old ladies that story that he could sing anything and sure enough, they wanted to hear a song since he had such a beautiful voice. He and Big Daddy proceeded to sing Amazing Grace and I have a video to prove it!
AND NOW, THE REST OF THE STORY...
PATH PISSERS
The second day that I was hiking with big daddy and Ipod, they were hiking ahead of me as usual. Their normal wake up time was 6:00 or 6:30 so they could hike during a cooler part of the day and finish early in the afternoon. I usually started around 8:00am and caught up to them around lunch time, they would eat a short lunch and leave before I did from lunch locations and I would catch up to and pass them later on in the early after noon. The second day that I was hiking with them though we were passing through some farm lands and crossing several roads and today would be the day that I meet the path pissers.I cross the last road and am heading along this flat and I see two people stopped in the middle of the AT. They're looking at the ground and inspecting it. I thought that they dropped something and were trying to find it so I keep walking towards them and watching them. It appears that one person is just a very large, perhaps menatlly challenged, juvenile and the other person is the guardian and so I keep walking forward and watching, still wondering what the heck is going on and then I notice that the larger one has their pants down right in the middle of the trail. They have not realized that I just walked up on them and so I just turn around and stand in the path. I hear their mutterings. "Yall alright?" I yell back to them. "You're ok. Come on through" I walk past them, and see that it's two older ladies in their sixties and that they're clearly embaressed.
About an hour later, I catch Big Daddy and Ipod at the shelter and tell them the story. They remember the ladies in my story and their big reply, boils down to how all the older ladies like a man with a Flag or something like that. Horsefly catches us later on and I tell him the story too.
The next day, we all get up for a potential 30 miler around 6:00am and keep walk out around 7:00am. About a mile from the shelter, Fly and I are walking about 20 yds apart and then he stops and turns around. Jokingly I ask if someone was taking a piss in the path and he doesn't reply but all he says is "I remember what you said yesterday". Turns out, we have met the path pissers again. The same two older ladies, out for a walk and not taking a single step off the trail to do their biz. Just to forewarn all of you, don't piss in the middle of a trail or you will be caught by an unsuspecting hiker and you will end up in their trail journal or blog. What a story.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
By the way
Last time I saw Daniel he mentioned he's lost 20 pounds so far!
As for me, I'm officially reinstated and registered for the fall semester. 2008 was not my year to hike. But I have great crafty plans for reducing my pack weight and increasing my endurance before I retry next year. Too bad, because I thought the Georgia "Two" Maine was really clever, and it doesn't apply any more.
Isn't Daniel great, though? Yay Daniel!
As for me, I'm officially reinstated and registered for the fall semester. 2008 was not my year to hike. But I have great crafty plans for reducing my pack weight and increasing my endurance before I retry next year. Too bad, because I thought the Georgia "Two" Maine was really clever, and it doesn't apply any more.
Isn't Daniel great, though? Yay Daniel!
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