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.