I'm still alive I tell you

Well it seems that a blog is a good idea but then again, when is there time to get to a computer and write? Never! That is the answer my friends.  So just for a short status update, I cruised through Hanover about a week and a half ago and it was just in time for the homecoming at Dartmouth college. Since I really love hiking with people, and I had hiking partners, I decided to forgo the mile-high bonfire that Saturday night.  A few days later was Rutland, Vermont and with much excitement, I received my packages at the post office. I got a new bivy and a new rain jacket. My old Marmot jacket served me well but in an all day rainstorm, I still got wet from the outside in instead of the inside out. A miserable day rest assured.

My hiking partners names are Desert Locks, Belay and Hobo. The first two are friends from Utah and Hobo is from Pennsylvania. We have all been traveling is a loose knit group since the later part of New Hampshire. The snow that hit us last week left us all a little down in the dumps since it was an official dumping of snow. We reinforced our preparedness for winter weather when we hit Manchester Center, Vermont buying boots and gaiters and then yellow blazed down forty miles to Bennington, Vermont. It was not an easy thing to do and there is still time to go and NOBO that section and yellow blaze back but then again, if the weather is going to be bad, it's best to be in a group!

The days are short and the temperatures are shorter on the thermometer but what is a guy to do? GO HIKING!!! Hopefully I can write again soon!

-Daniel

Hurricanes and Mushrooms

     All the water that hurricane Irene pumped in here wet the place down good and then the following tropical storm kept it that way. Rumors say that theres going to be some snow tonight on the mountains and it's going to be at least the first frost tonight. That's a pretty crazy notion but what we have at hand are MUSHROOMS!! I've seen a lot of mushrooms the past couple of weeks here up in Maine and this is just but a small sample of where there is. Enjoy!

-Daniel 

Hurricane Fran (1996)

Projected path of Irene 2011. Purple path closest to actual.

Scrambled eggs

Seafood

Carolina Hurricanes

Unda da sea, unda da sea!

Yes, it's purple

Hurricane Andrew

large and dying

Pancake

Potato Chip

Cherry Tomato

Cantaloupe

Hurricane Irene in New England

REI Garage sale @ Cary, NC location Sept 17!

Greetings!

So I just wanted to remind everybody in the Raleigh area that there is a garage sale at the Cary, NC REI store so that if there was anything that you wanted to get in the out of doors department then you will want to go and get it THIS WEEKEND, SEPTEMBER 17.  Be sure to ARRIVE EARLY by at least an hour. The store opens at 10:00 am as far as I know.  There are crazy stupid deals on gear. Everything has been used by someone and returned for one reason or another but LOTS of it is brand friggin new! Once again, a great chance to get some great nearly new gear!

Arriving in Monson, ME

Time: 9:48 am

Town: Monson, ME

Place: Shaw's Lodging (not the "triangle" Shaw)

I've been here in Monson for about a day now and I arrived just in time to get to the barbecue joint in town. It's pretty much the only restaurant and they are open for lunch on Mondays which was pure luck. I was talking to a guy about going there and when he found out that I was from NC he said that I should get anything but barbecue because NC's got the best barbecue anyways. He was right. It was more or less heavily smoked pork and beef with sauce on a soggy bun but after 8 days of pasta sides it was still relatively delicious.

My camera died on the plane when I was taking pictures of the lit cities streets below as the sun was rising over the east coast, but I do have those 'new' pictures at least. The charger is lost in the mail somewhere at a post office in Pennsylvania. Not much evidence survives that I was ever in the 100 mile wilderness but I will leave you with the high flying pics!

Richmond???

Sunrise from a bird's belly

-Daniel

KATAADN today

Time: 5:15 am

Place: Millinocket, ME

Mood: Confident

So today is the day. The hurricane will turn out to be a mixed blessing after all. Two campsites and one lean-to at the park have opened up and might be able to stay in the park after the trip up today. I might be able to stay in the birches tonight if I tell them that I am a flip-flopper meaning that I walked a lot and jumped up to the end so that I could suerely make it to the top of Kataadn then end on some other part of the trail. Often Flip-floppers flip when the get to Harpers Ferry but if people are way back like I was in 2008 then they flip from even further back or skip ahead from possibly Shenandoah.

I hear it's an exhausting trip. 4000 feet over 5.2 miles. The bus leaves town @ 6:30 and I'm at the Appalachian Trail Cafe where I had a delicious parfait and home made english muffin. I've got to get going though so I can get a shower, and make it to the post office early and ask for my trekking poles. Lord I hope they have my trekking poles! Next stop, Monson, Maine. Talk to you again soon.

Ciao!
-Daniel

Time: 7:48 am

Place: Millinocket, ME

Mood: Impatient

It's been at 15 days since I last posted on the blog and I was hoping to have traveled almost the entire length from Palmerton to Vermont through NJ, NY, CT, and MA but alas trouble was brewing on the horizon. Friday August 12 Tess and I hitched to Hershey park just outside of Harrisburg PA which I remind you is the capital of PA. We had a great time hitching and a great time at the park and a great time visiting with my mom and dad (THANKS mommy and daddy!) but in the middle of the night the great time had come to an abrupt end. I caught what another hiker that I met in Bangor dubbed the "Beaver Fever" aka the runs. After a day of torment I decided that it was best to return home to recover. I spent the last two weeks more or less killilng time and all of yesterday traveling.

So 2 planes and 2 busses later here I am in Millinocket, ME and the weather is cloudy and Irene is approaching and there out in front of me just a short distance away lies Kataadn. I asked the other hikers if they felt the earthquake but none of them seemed to know that it happened but then again it seemed that most people in NY didn't know that the earthquake was happening either. I listened into the conversations of the other hikers that were having and it's almost like having nothing in common. "You know, I don't have to hike today" one would say. "I know, isn't it a great feeling" the other would reply. I'm glad to be hiking again and I can't wait to get back on the metaphorical "road" again but the weather sure is foiling my plans.

I was asked to post some mail drop options and I am sure as sure can be that I will be stoping in
Monson, ME after I summit Kataadn and walk the hundred mile wilderness. I think I only have enough food for 6 days but I think I can make it last. Hiker hunger has worn off since Tessa and I did the long 17 right before Palmerton. Send packages general delivery and write on the package hold for thru hikers.

Update you soon.......

Around again...

Time: 4:55p

Place: Palmerton PA

Mood: Enthusiastic!

Mr. Keyboard and I have had a long time away from each other. We haven't spoken much but then again I haven't had much to say to Mr. Keyboard. Just time to tell all again and let everyone far and wide know... we're doing it again. I've been back on the Appalachian Trail since July 16th and am shooting for Kataadn by the closing day on October 15th. I've got a little over 900 miles left and at 20 miles a day for 45 days I can make it but I'm pretty sure that will be an impossible task. As we move into fall, the prime time for hiking will be dwindling as the days shorten and the inside of a sleeping bag becomes more appealing in the cold New England Autumn. Just ahead of me though I need to tackle a obstacle towering close... ZEROS!!!!! YAY!!!!

That's a wrap...early.

Although my feelings were lightened by the hilarious songs that Band-Aid made up about our hiking party, the sense of foreboding remained when we left Dalton. Short days, cold weather, and word of storms led to many zeros. We zeroed in one AMC cabin with a fireplace and morning pancakes while looking after a young mouse Jeramiah found by the roadside, alone and disoriented--we named him Laverticus. Rain happened, and then day-long flurries followed by some sticking, and we zeroed again three days later at Tom Leonard shelter. Which, by the way, had a beautiful path-not-taken in a yellow wood. Torch, J, and I, along with two new friends, Robin and Brandon, easily convinced one another to take a total of three zeros, with usual daily trips back into Great Barrington by two miles of AT. We gathered much firewood from far and wide, kept the flames up all day, and generally bummed in the woods. I convinced Torch and J to do the half-gallon challenge with me, and Brandon came along; but alas, Brandon, the one of us not over the halfway-mileage-point, was the only one to complete the challenge! I could barely force myself to eat a quart. Well, at least we know now.

An extremely sad moment came after four days with Laverticus, when he passed away. We had loved him, kept him in our shirts so he wouldn't freeze, fed him, watered him, exercised him; he had crawled on our clothes and faces, and peed and pooped in our hands. He was smart, and crazy-brave. J and I mourned, and in the silence Robin played a sad song about change.

I was glad to take these zeros. I felt no desire to hike in the weather. And I started to realize I was done. When a Monday morning came, and the sky was beautiful, and it was not all that cold, and I still had no desire to hike, I went back to Great Barrington and said goodbye to the trail. J and Torch came and shared a hotel room with me. I forced myself to walk away the next day. I grounded myself at a wonderful place with wonderful friends, in New Jersey. It was hard, but it got better.

I'm still on the road at the moment, but I suppose that would be material for another blog, not this one. I would like to return and finish, but not right now. Torch made me a wooden AT-symbol necklace, and I'm wearing it now. I wish friends did not have to part.

Into MA

After having the best Equinox Thanksgiving potluck ever (and Sam's vegan cookies) at Becky's, J and I started hitching back to the trail. We made it far enough to stay in a hostel in Rutland run by a religious community, learned that our friends Band-Aid, Torch, and Lucky had been there the day before, and learned that our friend Chewbacca was there to stay. A big surprise! Not everyone's trail leads the same way.

We got back to the trail, hiked, got rained on, got hailed on, got flurried on, froze our butts off one night, celebrated entry into MA, resupplied, lazed about, blah blah the usual. I have a new sleeping bag now, that is as big as the rest of my pack, and almost wedged me in a spiral staircase on top of Mt. Greylock. I got sick one night, not sure why. I had my internal frame pack sent out, realized it didn't fit my sleeping bag any better, and am about to send it back.

I'm in Dalton, MA right now. I was here a few years ago with the Deerfield fellowship to see the Crane Paper Museum, and J and I went there again today. We're staying with Rob, a wonderful man who never advertises but merely opens his home to hikers as guests, friends, family. He made sure we were showered and laundered and fed and entertained and rested, and we decided to stay a second night to spend more time talking with him. He has a photo album of every guest from this year, and went through it with us talking about different people, what wonderful stories they told, how long they stayed. It was cool to see the faces to the names we've been reading in journals along the trail. One fellow, for instance, writes colorful and sticker-ful entries as Hannah Montanah's Hiking Tips, and he's really a burly guy with a big beard and turban. We saw people we've traveled with, or merely met.

All the northbounders have crossed us by now, so there are no more friendly faces from down south. We're at the back of the pack again, of course, almost to the 1,089 mi halfway point. ALMOST halfway, and we started in April! We could finish a through hike, and J still says he will, but the cold weather is not a friend to me, and the precipitation lately has me feeling crummy too. I'm entertaining ideas once again for alternatives to this hike, but I'll let the weather clear, and I'll get to New York, before making any decisions. Rob's stories certainly have rejuvenated me and my desire to keep going.

And J is now carrying an Elmo doll on his pack. Life is good.

Into Vermont!

Continuing New hampshire stories...

I enjoyed the Granite State, I suppose. The White Mountains are supposed to be some of the grandest on the trail. And they were. Majestic, truly. But they were also cold, metaphorically and otherwise. Rocky peaks rising into the sky, gray, hard, dry, treeless. Not my cup of tea. The highlight for me was a night hike and dawn viewing from Franconia Ridge. Several of us had made plans to hike the ridge under the full moon, but sleep set in, and it turns out half of us were lost anyway. So a few days later, J and I went back to complete the missed section, cowboy-napping by the highway, and I finally got myself to wake and rise in the dark, around 2 a.m. It was my first night hike, and there were no hitches really, except that by the time I got above treeline, where the moonlight could actually illuminate the trail, the dawn had begun with rusty colors. Still, I turned off my headlamp and made my way to the nearest large peak, Lincoln, with the almost-full moon over my left shoulder and the growing colors over my right. The stars dimmed behind me, the black sky turned purple, and by the time I got to Lincoln the dawn was casting harder shadows than the moon was. I waited on that peak for 25 minutes while the colors became maroon, rose, coral, peach, yellow, and the bright orb rose to warm my shivering body and running nose. I watched the line of light crawl down the peaks to the west. I was all alone, and it was totally worth the early rise. I've seen dawns before, but nothing as wonderful as dawn from a mountaintop. I'm sure I haven't conveyed any idea of how wonderful it was. A few hours later the ridgeline was mobbed with hundreds of dayhikers for the holiday weekend.

I cannot fail to mention someone else's dayhiker-free Mount Washington story. From Madison hut, six of us southbounders set out towards Washington in terrible rain and wind and cold, a seven mile journey to the next hut, all above treeline. About five minutes out, I decided to turn back to the hut and zero (J was disappointed). But J and four other hikers continued. Sadly, the group was one short when they made it to the next hut, for the one had fallen on a rock and busted his face. It's so terrible, but I'm glad it wasn't me. I hiked by myself the next day, in great weather, and caught up shortly.

Chet's hostel in Lincoln was great fun, what with an adult trike and a tandem bike. hanover, home of Dartmouth, was not exactly the college town most of us expected. We were already hating the Outing Club, which conducted freshman orientation backpacking trips without tents for the students, meaning large groups took over every shelter, a major faux pas in the woods. J and I were loving Pittsfield, VT. We stayed at a farm, pulling weeds for our stay and for sandwiches in the general store. The farmers are two hikers we met down south, and Danny Boy (Snipe) from Georgia was there as well, so it was a fabulous reunion! We never expected to see Dan again, and there he was with full beard and his picture on the front of the Wall Street Journal (Sept. 21) in an article about work-for-benefit on the trail.

We stayed at Amee farm two nights, and the next morning J set the record at the general store for eating a breakfast challenge--huge plate of food in 14 min 28 sec--thereby earning himself a free meal. Then we hitched to Burlington, VT, to visit my friend from my work at howell Farm. And here we are, devouring Becky's library and watching all her movies. In another coincidence, we met her friend Sam, aka Samwise, who just finished a northbound thru-hike. he recognized me from a shelter in Maine, and we talked about being vegan on the trail, and about his new vegan backpacking blog. What a coincidence!

But potluck tonight, and then hitching back to the trail tomorrow. Just a few days short of 1000 trail miles. Not even halfway, but still going with the flow, still having a great time.

Over NH, almost into VT

Sitting in the Hanover, NH library right now, racking my brain to think of everything to say.

First things first, Jeramiah caught up to me finally and we're hiking together again.

He caught up the evening after I finished Mahoosuc Notch, which has a reputation as being the "hardest mile on the trail." I like the way someone else put it: It's like an adult jungle gym. That is, it's a mile-point-one of huge rocks and boulders that are resting in a pile at the bottom of a notch, with some water running underneath. It requires a good deal of scrambling over and under and around, and a little strategizing, but nothing intense or dangerous. I went through alone, taking about an hour and forty minutes to finish. It was nothing like people built it up to be, not challenging at all, just different. I highly recommend that section.

Pretty soon after, we crossed into New Hampshire, kissed the ground, laid our final good-riddances in the Maine soil, and rejoiced. Deliver us out of these bogs and mosquitoes, New Hampshire. Time out for some visitation with my family, however. They all three drove to Pinkham Notch to meet J and I, and while the visit wasn't exactly restful, it was fun. And delicious. We drove around a lot, up the Mt. Washington Auto Road on the second day. I believe Washington (he'll kick you apart) is the tallest peak in the northeast? At any rate, it has the "worst weather in the world," with snow every month of the year and a planetary record windspeed of 231 mph many decades ago. It has a long history of tourism and research, and there is a weather observatory and little museum up there now, and a historical recreation of one of the early summit houses. We chilled there, contemplating pretending to be tourists to thru-hikers we did not know, showering them with the same old questions. But I would have laughed after the first few words and given it away. Later that day we went to a shopping town, where I got maple candy and some kid's secondhand keychain Ugly Doll, which I have named Guggers and now carry with me.

After that visit, several zero and near-o mileage days conspired against our hiking through the White Mountains very quickly. I got my first taste of mountain hospitality at Madison Springs Hut (Carter Notch had sent me out in the cold rain just before dark with a cry of "no room"). The Appalachian Mountain Club, which maintains many trails and the AT through New Hampshire, has run these "huts" in the forest by special permission for over a hundred years, I think. There's much criticism. They're very expensive, being situated on mountaintops in a popular location, and hikers and helicopters must bring in all the supplies, and bring out the waste. They charge thru-hikers for a mere spot on the dining room floor at night. But they also feed their leftovers, and sometimes make special food, for the thru-hikers. Work-for-stay is also possible. I lucked out at Madison my second night, for a group of old college buddies and some of their sons "adopted" me into one of their vacant reservations. I got to sleep in a bunk, and had special vegan food prepared for me. At Mizpah, I got to cook stir-fry for myself and sleep in the library, in exchange for washing dishes. At Lonesome Lake Hut, there was a spaghetti and salad feast, again in exchange for dishwashing. I felt I was for the most part, though with some exception, treated well. But then it was nice to hit some actual free shelters again, and escape the crowds.

Darn! Library closing! More later.

Andover, ME

Finally, some time to write! I wonder if I can fit it all in the time I have.

As I said before, J and I left his house after fourth of July festivities to try to hitch hike to Millinocket and begin hiking the AT south. The hitching was a mixed bag, and it took forever to just get out of Ohio. We also found a kitten, a hairy orange guy, in a ditch while walking through one town. We bought him food--he got gravy on his face, so we called him Gravy. I sacrificed my cotton thrift clothes that I bought to wear around J's house so they could be Gravy's bedding, and we carried him in a box for an evening and a day until we could get to Portsmouth, OH, where we heard that an animal shelter was. The unhelpful lady on the phone--when we got to Portsmouth--told me there was no space for more cats, and she didn't have any suggestions of where to turn, either. We spent a lot of time at the library trying to find a place to take him along our route, then we took him to the vet to get checked out. Luckily, a woman named Crystal picked us up as we left the vet and promised to take care of him until she could find him a home. She talked about rescuing kittens before, and said she'd take Gravy back to the vet for extra treatments, so we felt good about leaving our baby with her. We had only had him for a day, but it seemed like longer, having to make sure he was comfy and happy and didn't run off, which he tried. It was an emotional parting, really, and Crystal said we were going to make her cry!

The next few days we hitched through a corner of Kentucky, up West Virginia, into Pennsylvania. We stayed at a campground one night, found a spot in the woods another night, pitched behind a narrow tree by the highway another night. All sorts of people picked us up, genders, races, ages, and numbers. Trucks with single drivers and empty beds passed us up while cars and trucks full of people and equipment found ways to squeeze us in. People offered us food, drink, smoke. Best was the grapefruit at one guy's house!

In Pennsylvania we failed to contact J's friend who was supposed to live around Pittsburgh. We chatted a guy at the coffee shop who took us to a place to camp in the woods, and started hitching the next day. First we were harassed by the police for walking along one highway--it didn't have the limited access sign on the ramp we took!--but he told us hitching was legal. Then we tried back at the ramp, got one exit down, and got stuck for almost five hours as car after car passed us. It was depressing. THEN another cop came and told us that people had called in to REPORT us for standing there to hitch, and hitching was actually illegal, and we would have to leave. It was such a crappy day that I gave up. We took a local bus back to Pittsburgh, found our way to the Greyhound station downtown, and hopped on immediately. A day later, we arrived in Bangor, ME. It was my first bus trip ever, and quite the impulsive travel decision.

In Bangor the next day we saw a pair of traveling kids with their dog--Panda was the name of the guy--and they were pleased to see us and pass on info about Bangor and Bar Harbor. They told us of a secret place to camp in Bangor by the river, which we eventually decided to try. Sitting there, waiting for it to get dark, a woman passed us with her dog, asking us if another dog sniffing around was ours. No. Then, she simply asked us if we needed a place to spend the night, and invited us to her house. Her name was Sarah, and she was a French teacher working on, I think, a folklore dissertation. Her dog was named Tillie because she liked collecting rocks and ripping up sod, and Tillie had twenty-six toes. Sarah lived in a beautiful house like the kind professors have close to college campuses. She gave us her back room, the sunroom I guess, and I slept on the daybed. She let us bathe and wash our clothes, and she told us to help ourselves to the food and drink in her fridge. Her house was filled with books, and I wanted to read them. Sarah was so poetic in her demeanor, and spoke about oral histories and connecting children to their communities, and spoke about the friends she made in France when she was younger. She lost herself in telling her own story while driving us up the interstate, and passed our exit by a long shot, even though she had meant to take us only a few miles!

We got to Millinocket quickly, found my box was not at the post office, hung out with some high schoolers who showed us the way to the trail. A man picked us up in his car before we even put our thumbs out, and before we knew it we were in Baxter State Park. July 12 we hiked to the base of Ktaadn (seeing four moose and a bald eagle on the way) and started our ascent, too late in the day for my pace! It took us 12 hours, when others took 8-10 hours. There was so much rock-hopping, and climbing, and clambering! We had our full packs on, and I had to drop some of my things behind a rock to lighten my load and center my balance better. I literally required J's hand up on some of the rocks because they were so slick and tall. We summited around 6:15 pm, two hours after we saw the last group on the way down. It was freezing and windy up there, so we took our pictures by the sign and got going down, hoping to make it below treeline before nightfall, which we did. It was 12:19 a.m. when we got back to the campground, and I was so tired.

Next was the "100-mile wilderness" which was not really a wilderness, but definitely fewer roads crossed. The mosquitos were infuriating, as was the mud and the rain and the roots and the rocks, and the dozens of orange slugs we found on our gear and ourselves in the mornings. The terrain was flattish, but we were slow going. We had a day of me going back in to Millinocket for more food, and J going in thinking he would get off the trail, but his mom convinced him to wait it out. We got a hitch back to the wrong trailhead and lost a few days doubling back over the missed section so we wouldn't skip any trail. We met more hikers and dogs, one named Morgan with a pink nose and beautiful blue eyes, and we made it through the wilderness (swamp) into Monson. J was ahead of me, so I hitched by myself. On the back of a motorcycle. Oh yeah.

Molly in Monson let out a room and let J work for it, so we had a private room with sheets. The bar had great pizza, and lake access. We hung out for a bit, zeroed, used the internet to fiddle with my pictures. Shortly after Monson J and I separated on the trail and crossed a major ford, the west Piscataquis. I cross upstream among several islands, got tangled up and turned around, but eventually made it back to the trail without having to spend the night lost. J crossed at high water and got swept away momentarily, immediately assumed I had drowned, swam to the shore, and then saw me clambering out of the woods back to the trail. He was soaked. We called it quits for the day and built a fire.

Soon after that we met a group of hikers we've been with for about a week. Some of them flipped at Damascus after we did. We've been going into towns together, hanging out, drinking, doing Karaoke, watching TV, enticing each other to zeros, and so on. Currently I'm at the Pine Ellis hostel in Andover with TNT, as I lost J and the others a few days ago at another town. I think they stayed in town longer than expected, and if they made it off the trail by now they are probably at the "party" hostel near here. I like this place though, with internet and phone and shower and sheets and laundry and a porch. TNT was helping me with some fungus I have, directing me to soak my feet in salt water. It burned indescribably, and David, who runs this place (his home, really) gave me beer to ease the pain. And foot powder too. And I got to float around in a pretty floral skirt because they provide clothes to wear while doing laundry! How nice! Right now I'm trying to let my shoes dry from their washing--hopefully that will help with the fungus.

I am almost out of Maine now, and into the Whites, and close to Mahoosuc Notch, which is supposed to be the hardest mile on the trail. They say that about a lot of places, so it's hard ot believe, but Maine has definitely been a whole different animal from the southern part of the trail.

I'm sure I could say more, but I've been typing for almost an hour, so I'll have to call it quits.

Monson, ME

So Daniel finally posted the letter I sent him from Damascus, you can check out the post by him below.

There's so much I want to talk about, but I know I have to get off the internet soon, and start hiking to the shelter 6 miles off the road, but 4 miles hitch... I want to talk about hitching, and police, and generous people and their homes, and Gravy the kitten, and moose, and mud, and Ktaadn, and a bald eagle, and rocks, and hiker boxes, and mildew, and ponds, and a motorcycle, and mosquitoes...but it can wait. I spent the last probably two hours messing with getting the photos off of my camera. And I'm tired of the computer. Here.

http://s76.photobucket.com/albums/j14/mllebretagne/AT/

They added backwards this time, so they're all out of order, most recent photos first.

testing?

This should be my last Damascus post. It's different from the others because I'm composing on paper and typing up later. Hopefully it will be less hurried.

Summary since Erwin/ Uncle Johnnie's:
We hiked out on Friday, having done an 11 mile slackpack in the morning, 4 more to the shelter. Grant and Ian were there with us and we matched pace the next three nights as well. The third day, the four of us ended up getting sucked into a nearby lunch counter run out of of a woman named Connie's home. It's called the Greasy Creek Friendly. I ate chips and salsa, portabella shroom burger, and a salad (all delectiably delicious trail treats). I even ate the chunks of carrots, it was that good. Connie was a sweet middle-aged lady, with cute grey braids, running the place all alone. We heard that before we came, she was singing 80's songs and making her cat dance. But shw eas so frienfly. The four of us camped outside there, baked biscuts on a stick and came up with the idea of hiking to Maine together.

In the next days we crossed some awesome balds, met some aggressive domesticated horses who bullied us for food until we left, spent a night in a barn-turned-shelter with the full moon and heat lightning in view, passed waterfalls suitable for a hiker shower, walked through a river gorge, climbed a srpuce-fir forest to the former site of a mountaintop hotel, waded a creek, fed ducks on a lake beach, and marched through driving rain. However, wading the creek was part of cursed quest to find a resupply point. We walked through pouring rain, missed the side trail by almost a mile. Walked back in pouring rain. Found the poorly blazed trail. Waded a swollen creek, waded through briars and came out at Abby's Place. The sign on the door said 'We'll be back at 8:00' Boy was I steamed. What kind of serious hostel does that? Closed all day?! So unprofessional. We wasted an hour and a half and walked close to two needless miles for that.

In the last post I mentioned Kincora hostel, where we cooked everything in sight and baked from found ingredients. I made a sweet potato - banana pie that was very highly rated, for example. Kincora is the best hostel so far. Never closed, low donation only, showers + laundry + shuttle + kitchen + matresses included + great hiker box + hundreds of Christmas postcards from hikers triumphant at Kataadn's summit. So inspiring!

Sorry about the timing folks, I didn't realize that the letter was in there until about a week after I got the package. Then I went computerless for another half week down in Frisco for the 4th. Clear cool blue water, could see your feet at all times. Anyways, there we go.

-Daniel aka Red Flag

Last time saying what a great time I've had at J's mom's house. And a chiropractor this morning? Wowee. Pop poppity pop pop. Here comes the sun, but no pool. Alas. Onward!

Ohio?

I mailed Daniel a letter a while back that I wanted him to post for me; I don't know why he hasn't. Please do so, soon, Daniel.

Long story short, we hitched out in three days to Bowling Green, KY, stayed with my friend there, then hitched in to days to Cincinnati. We spent one night at a hostel and met 2sergeantsbiking, who are biking across the country for a vineyard they want to start. Hitched with farmers and cage fighters next day, and with Mike, a biker from Carrboro, who took us through three states, yay! We camped behind a church. Ali showed us her lab and talked about genetics and stories, and cooked a great soup. And after a day of a speeding ticket, four cops, three times being kicked out of gas stations, and an almost-lost ID, Michael and Nadera let us stay at their house and fed us and showed us their art. A lot of people who didn't give us rides stopped to be sure we were ok, or bought us water, or gave or offered us money. It was very interesting to see their concern.

Once in Cincinnati, we called J's mom and went home. She has fixed fabulous vegan food ever since I arrived. Curry and spaghetti and more curry and hummus and cashew cheese and GREAT smoked barbecued seitan and burgers and pancakes and french toast and mixed drinks. Nom nom nom! And at the big 4th party, a friend brought raspberry almond cookies and brownies that she was perfecting. We spent a little time preparing for the party, and visiting J's camp friends, and going to a neighborhood festival, when I got mendhi on my palm like I've been wanting. We even went to Goodwill to pick up clean, normal clothes to wear while we are here. I made chocolate mousse for later, and we're planning to watch Reefer Madness: The Musical. Maybe we'll also play in pool before we leave in a few days. Before leaving for...Maine!

I'm having trouble with Picasa from this computer, so I've put the latest pics on Photobucket.
http://s76.photobucket.com/albums/j14/mllebretagne/AT/

Also, I abused my camera a bit too much, and the screen has given up. I'm taking pictures blind now; thought I'd mention it in case you noticed a drop in photo quality.

Damascus, part I

In Damascus public library, and the little popup window gave me 10 minutes left on my session, so not much talking.

Started hiking before the leaves were out. Some of the first plants to come up are now dying. Seasons!

4 states! 460-some miles! Virginia!

Slow as molasses. Couple more 18s, but they screw me over. Shin splints right now. Awfully prone to overuse injury, it seems.

So that means unless I flip and still winter hike, no thru. So what's my destination? What's my quest? Where am I going? I'm open.

As I hike, I note places near road crossings that are beautiful. I note short routes of mostly downhill or really easy stuff, where I'd take a first-time backpacker. I really want to take my mom out here. Weekend it, and we can fit a full-size air mattress!

Unaka Mtn was one of the latest beauties. Spruce and fir, widely spaced. So green. Jeramiah and I note such places as elven. Sometimes we pretend orcs and dragons are in the woods. Sometimes we pretend an evil sorceress is controlling the weather. It's fun times.

But I gotta go! I'll try to post again tomorrow!

Out of Uncle Johnny's

Well! Four days here, two in the bunkhouse, plus a shuttle to Spivey Gap today to slackpack back to the hostel, all free! Wow! Freebird, who's been in charge of the store, is so generous! And of course Johnny and Charlotte, who own the place. We're hiking four miles out to the next shelter tonight, after I eat my last bowl of microwave Mac and Yeast from heaven. New pictures are here: http://picasaweb.google.com/brittany.a.lewis/SCAAndAT2009?authkey=Gv1sRgCKryjLXq5KbH5QE&feat=directlink

Heard of some more hikers just going home. How sad! If I get off the trail, I won't be going home!

Feet feel good for now. Yay. Moving on. 339 down!

If you want to send me a package, I'll be checking the post office in Damascus, VA. I don't have the zip code in front of me, but the address would be my name on the first line, next line General Delivery, next Damascus, VA zip code, next "Hold for AT Thru Hiker." You can look up the zip, right?

I'm about two days ahead of my schedule last year. So far behind everyone! But a great time. Grant and Ian (Tolkien dork and museum dork) are with us since the Smokies, so still have some "old" friends for the time being.

OH! Going by the name Bar Fight now, officially. :D Vegan rage and pink fingerless gloves. I will mess you up. :)

STILL Still Going at Uncle Johnny's

I apologize for the rambling nature of my posts. I always feel like there is so much to say, but I can never remember it when I have internet access. Also, it's hard to communicate what the AT is really like.

Anyway, like I said, I'm chilling here at the hostel for a while because my foot feels funny. It doesn't exactly seem to be getting better, and I also realized this morning that the old injury site is swollen, so I've wrapped it. J. and I are doing laundry and preparing cabins for guests in return for stay tonight. He's still around and hanging out with me, whether it's because he likes me or because he's sickish, I don't know. He's been sick to his stomach for the past day and a half, and he finally puked last night. Leprechaun tried to hike out yesterday, feeling fine, got less than a mile away, and had it coming out both ends. And then returned. A couple others have been having similar problems. Eek.

I'm still waiting to see what will happen. There's a festival in Erwin this weekend, so maybe I'll be around for that, and it'll be fun. Here at the hostel we've been watching movies (Lord of the Rings and O Brother Where Art Thou being specially appropriate favorites) and doing crossword puzzles and playing cards and doing Trivial Pursuit questions and drawing pictures on the photos in the newspaper. And sometimes drinking. Several people who are quite well have been having trouble leaving the hostel because it's just so fun to hang out. A mocking horoscope made up yesterday: "You will chillax and drink beer for the next three days." I have a personal motto: Pooping is always the right choice. Mohawk has his own: Don't fight the zero. And indeed he, and we, and others have not. It's all part of the experience! Though it sucks when people who have been friends for the past week and a half move on. There are strangers outside waiting to be friends, I think. Except for the guy who got to the grape jelly in the hiker box before I did... [narrows eyes]

Hostel dogs are cool. One is a stray who showed up a few days ago and just lies on the sofa. I brushed the hell out of him earlier today. The other is friendly, but he looks like he wants a bath and some itch medicine.

The area between Devil's Fork Gap and Spivey gap has some pretty spots for day hiking. Just suggesting. One more cabin to change the sheets in...pictures later today I hope.