Light at the End of the Tunnel

Well, I'm sure the reading audience wants something of the trail and travels in my infrequent posting and not just a one-night tirade, so here i am again today.

Like James Taylor, deep greens and blues are the colors I choose; and New England has been lovely on the whole.

I left Kent CT with multiple ounces in drape netting, which I've pitted against mosquitoes and black flies both under my tarp and the shelters. This has been worth it's weight in gold and yet hardly cost me.

Silver Hill Campsite was a tiny paradise and I slept up in the rafter of the tiny pavilion. Hauling water 3 miles uphill was a small price to pay for camping at Rands View. I had a cute little red-roofed shelter all my own at Glen Brook, and epic rock backdrop the next night. One of the few 20's I happened to wander recently was then to Upper Goose Pond Cabin where I didn't leave til noon the next day on account of swimming and canoeing. This set me up to arrive in Dalton Mass. on the 4th of July, where I got blindsided with icecream and extraordinary picnic, shower, laundry done for me, and a couch to sleep on among the unexpected hospitality of Tom Levardi's "backyard camping" for thru-hikers. I really couldn't have hit things, planned or unplanned, more perfectly.

Little more than a day later I was in Vermont. Absolutely soaked through and through. But in Vermont. So it didn't matter. And whats more, it didnt last. But what did last was the pepperoni issue. Wrecked me for 3 days. You would think that someone who has eaten from among red and white meats for a decade, and has all but certainly ingested residual grease on pizza at some point, could handle a single Vermont-made slice between cheese and crackers and along with the rest of her lunch. Oh but no! Perhaps there was a bit of stomach flu going around that it lasted so long. But who's to say. I'm over it now.

Long Trail hikers are the most recent nuance to the ever changing scenery from Georgia to Maine. Folks out on a near 300 mile thru-hike, half of whom are contemplating following in our footsteps in the near future. Our present paths overlap exactly for 105 miles. 105 quite muddy miles. But it's thick and I dont mind it. Soft footing that sticks to my boots while my feet are dry inside is fine by me.

At the moment I'm on a Zero-and-a-half, resting up for my next stint and accomplishing Part One of Two in readiment for the highcountry not far on the horizon. In the near future is the semi-monumental Killington. In the not too distant future is the infinitely monumental Katahdin.

The Fastest Man to Walk the Trail: A Diatribe

I arrived at a shelter under Graylock for the evening, finding when I arrived a couple of trail aquaintances snacking at the picnic table before heading on to camp out and one man of undertermined age on a lower bunk settled in here.
I acknowledged his presence, introduced myself and inquired as to his name. To this he replied that he wouldnt tell me his because he's got the fastest record of unsupported thru-hikes and he keeps running into trouble because there's people out trying to mess him up. I graciously offered that I haven't signed into registers since Damscus cause I have some hiker guys trying stalk and follow me, so I can understand. (Now the fact that he claims to have the fastest unsupported thru-hike gives all away anyway, but I didn't mention that part).

He mentioned after my aquaintances left that his girlfriend has completed however many thru-hikes of the PCT and the AT so I didnt need to worry about him. I didnt know what that had to do about anything excepth that maybe since I hadnt even completed one yet I certainly wasnt good enough for him. Not that I'm inclined toward anti-social men nearly twice my age anyway.

On the platforms beside the shelter were ATC Trail Crew tents, and soon to arrive to the clearing below were a group of boys with a YMCA camp, neither of whom he cared to greet or acknowledge. But I'll take neutral to the exclusion of antagonistic.

I was kind of surprized and pleased though that he didn't have somthing to say about the amount of things I was carrying or the real foods I was cooking. He was actually affirmative on most points of my nutrition. (It was told to me later that he didnt critique my hike or itinerary or gear because he thought I was obviously beyond hope. And he wouldn't want me to have a chance at breaking his record. I'm willing to give the benefit of the doubt on this however. I being highly diplomatic and a listener to just about anyone tend to aviod tension and agression).

He complained about how the ATC won't acknowledge his record setting. I brought up that I see how that could be frustrating for him, but theres really no way for them to validate speed since they can't even truly validate completions (that would be like trying to televise a play-by-play on an orienteering meet) and brought out how messy that would get if anyone else strarted making claims. He said really they just want it to be all about "the experience". I refrained from comment.

While he didnt have good things to say about the woman of the two hikers I that had departed shortly after my arrival, he had especially uncharitable things to say about a very young thru-hiker that both I and two guys south-bound section hiking had spent time with. All 3 of us in our own experiences, and probably even their dog, had to differ on such disparagement of the kid.

Just before dark I was snapping shut my journal for bed at the foot of the shelter and I heard two friends coming down the side trail. I headed them off and gave them the lay off the land, and the high sign that somone was already asleep. They very quietly unpacked and made their way into the loft above the table. He spoke out that he was awake and they didn't have to whisper. This of course was due to the yet energetic though not ill-mannered 14-year-olds below, but he prefered to have the latecoming couple appologize to him for it instead.

Next morning I was up somewhat early as was he a few minutes after me. I was ready to shove off fairly efficiently and he a few minutes before me. The couple in the loft had begun moving about though weren't downstairs yet. Just as he walked off he says to the upstairs, "Hey couple in the loft...(yeah?)...I just want you to know that between me and my girlfriend we have 15 successful completions of the At and the PCT so you have a long way to go to catch up." And he leaves. Hadn't said a thing to them otherwise. No greetings, no good luck, not so much as a nod of acknowdgement that another few human beings existed.

I've already dropped of the bandwagon blasting to Katahdin as fast as possible. I've joined the slow train of Just Say No to 20's only occasionally and accidentally falling off. But if the fastest man in thru-hiker history is this much of a jerk- I'm gonna start hiking even slower.

Ah, New Jersey. The Land of the Unexpected.

Well, a few weeks ago now, I met Ms. Gingersnap at the hostel in Delaware Water Gap. Over the past few months I had often wished her a 'happy walk north' and prayed, all mishaps considered, that she would make it this far. At last we were walking north together - Onward towards Katahdin!

Really, this trip gave me the full experience of the thru hiker life style. We tried on every kind of camping: from staying at a camp site, to sort of resting in a very wet fire tower, to sheltering with not so normal bed time company, to sleeping alongside the most splendid of friends. We tried out a little trip into Unionville, NY, to give me a taste of stepping off the trail. We ate some great food and some not so great food (ok, I left the kippered herring to Gingersnap, but she needed the nutrition right??). Together, we hiked in the rain, ran from innumerable mosquitoes, and napped in the sunshine. We treaded lightly away from one very angry rattlesnake and made polite conversation with the first two bears Gingersnap had seen on the trail. Most assuredly a well rounded sampler of the AT.

Oh, And did we make some friends too! Ducky and Crazy Goose, who we met at the Delaware Water Gap hostel were quite the characters - full of the most delightful commentary about every aspect of trail life. With Timber and Beer Hunter we dickered the finer points of the worlds greatest harmonica players (not that either in our party really had anything of weight to add to the conversation) and considered the intricacies of British radio broadcasting. We talked about life’s future plans on numerous occasions with Sabi and Ripple. Of all the thru hiking couples that we came across, I do think they were my favorite. They were just so brilliantly kind, and, oh, their accents were down right charming! During our time in town, we first crossed paths with Hand-Me-Down and Thumper. We would see them several times over the next few days and even shelter with them on the last day. I think they were the youngest thru hikers on the trail that I had the pleasure to meet, but they were certainly very nice. Of course, not all company was so dazzling or welcome. On our third night, during my first ever stay in a trail shelter, the wacky southbounder named Whisper joined us. OH man. He told us of his 2.5 mile per day average, bi-polar tendencies, on trail suicide attempts, 75 pound pack, and even showed off the laptop he was carrying...ya, we had some laughs and some very scary scares that night.

In sum total, this was a wonderful and much needed five days on the trail. We covered seventy miles - essentially all of NJ. On the last night, my mom picked us up one mile south of NY and we headed back to my house. Gingersnap found that the easiest way to obtain new glasses was to join us, and so she did. Also, she happened to become a highly welcome guest for both my eighteenth birthday and my high school graduation, as they fell on the same day. For, in her words, it’s not so much about getting from Georgia to Maine the fastest, it’s about the journey in between. I rather like that mindset.

Gingersnap never planned on such a scenic trip through my little home state. And I, I never imagined that so many mosquitoes also called this state home. Altogether, a rather unexpectedly grand trip through good old Jersey.

A Huge thanks to you, dearest Gingersnap, for accepting my company along the way. Good luck on your last 600 miles, have a nice walk north!

Much Love,

Eric McIntyre, Former Spruce Lake Camper, Protege, and Trail Companion

Entering New England

Jersey was unbelieveably sweet. I'll leave those stories for someone else to tell though.
Relaxed, nice views, predominantly fair skies. A few run-ins with skeeters and one big bad rattler. But otherwise all was well. Quite memorable. And most specially, I had favored company the whole way. Never knew that state to be so wonderful.

New York, not so much. New York infact sucked. Quite a bit.
Intent on falling off the 20mile-day band wagon, from getting dropped off near the state line the night before, nonetheless pulled a 22. Over asmuch rockslap and scramble as not. In as much torential downpour as not. Fortunately I was dropped off in possession of new glasses. Otherwise finding my was in all this would have been nigh unto impossible.
Holding valiently to morale inspite of this (Hey- Mother Nature is giving out free warm showers, and its all good) I arrived at the imaginably full shelter well into the evening. Only to discover that Stalker #1, whom I have escaped since Damascus some 900 miles ago, was present, and only too happy to see me. That's when my day went down. Some section hikers maderoom for meacross their feet, and a friend not seen since Blacksburg, VA appeared in the dark, so there was a good note to fall asleep on. However,
Next day was more of the same, only I passed up town for camping, in interest of solitude and secrecy. I woke happy the following morning gray. Having conditions allowing dry feet maintainable makes all the difference, and yet a general feeling of weariness at this whole Thru-Hiking business was present. 8 more weeks of this? Feels like I've been out here forever...
Things started to improve aftert the Hudson, both in terms of weather and terrain. And on the Mid- 4th morning when sunshine broke and I was actually only doing 15 miles hiking this ordeal didn't seem so terminal anymore. Hiking 15's is fun. Things go smoothly with virtually no plan.

I fell into 20 again yesterday, several unexpected sidenotes notwithstanding, which landed me at the lovely Ten Mile River shelter, practically all my own.
And now New York is done, and I am in Kent, CT. For the day. And hopefully the night. I just havent found a permissable place to sleep yet.

Since the Mason-Dixon

They say PA is where boots go to die. Mine did. Along with my pack. And my new headlamp. And my especially new sleepingbag liner. Overall PA is not especially interesting. 14 days later however I am taking a long weekend and moving on to Jersey.

Day 1
I was liberally Trail-Magic'ed and stayed at Quarry Gap shelter, where not only was the structural layout amazing, but I dare saythe community of and among hikers rivaled all other nights.

Day 2
The Midpoint Marker reached at last, the Half Gallon Challenge beaten, I swam laps in the lake. After a few hours that is.

Day 3
With an early start to another scortcher of a day I made Boiling Springs by 3pm and collapsed in the shade of the ATC porch and in the aquaduct for 4-5 hours til I was picked up by friends from Harrisburg.

Day 4
A substitute pack was secured and resupplied from the very limited options in all the Capitol City, the time throughout the day being shared among the company of Heather, Greg and Nathan, then later with Steph and Jess who returned me to the Trail for my first night hike, planned in my efforts to circumvent the heat of summerdays across the open fields.
Note: Night hiking is not a good idea. The epic near-fail is however near famous among my hiking community.

Day 5
Still hiking from my night hike gone awry I was persuaded to call it quits at 3pm in Duncannon. Lodging at The Doyle is quite a piece of trail culture.

Day 6
Crossing the Susquehanna I was repeatedly swooped and scolded by a Peregrine Falcon. Returned to ridgeline hiking and camped at an unnamed spring with Crazy Goose & Ducky, all still perplexed at what whatever was going on at Peters Mountain Shelter this afternoon, but moving on.

Day 7
Hiked alot of mile without seeing anyone. The one I did see this morning was surprizing. It's always surprizing to see Lemur coming from behind cause I'm sure he's way ahead and ever increasingly so. At the final stram crossing there was no bridge and it took all my ropes course prowess to cross the log down-stream unscathed and un-flung-into-the-creek. Then hauled a gallon of water up the mountain and dont know where I camped for there were no landmarks up top. but I found a nice little dirt alcove established among the poison ivy.

Day 8
Soon discovered myself to be farther along the ridge then I expected. Mission#1- water, mission#2- Hertline Campsite's reservior, mission#3- top of the hill, which wasn't nearly the effort I remembered of before. All the while followed from ahead I felt up to pulling a whole 22 miles to Eagles Nest Shelter, with a little view out back that I enjoyed alone.

Day 9
Walked out the ridge and descended into Port clinton for my maildrop, albeit shorter than other descents notably the steepest I can recall since Georgia. apparentlynobody ever told PA about switchbacks. Merrill boots were being held for me at Cabellas. On an otherwise miserably hot day the only place to be wasin or beside the river, and with many others I stayed the night in the town's pavilion there.

Day 10
Hit the Trail early to beat the heat up the mountain. Made it clear that I am hiking my own hike and am not part of any "we" no matter how repeatedly or publically someone else speaks it. Saw my first copperhead of the trip as I was collecting water. Placed my rock atop the Pinnacle and took in the associated view. Collapsed exhausted of just 15 miles hiking in the makeshift chase-lounge in the illustrious Eckville Shelter, undecided, dreading and demoralized by reports of Lehigh Gap in the near future.

Day 11
Hit the Trail even earlier hoping to pull off a 25 mile day as my best shot at Lehigh Gap the next. Miraculously I had 12 miles done by 11am. Lunched with 6 other hikers at the B&B crossing 309. Didnt care who out paced me and kicked it into low-gear, prefering preservation of my hydration and core temperature. Best Trail Magic Ever: someone left jugged water in the middle of nowhere. Not til mile 23 did only my knees and feet beging wishing to be done for the day. Spent a lovely stormy evening at a well-watered shelter, just the 2nd time since Georgia I've had a shelter all to myself. Town pulls all others 2 miles further.

Day 12
crossed the river below. Found a business dayplanner on the concrete barrier and my super-good deed for the daywas to return it either by rendezvous today or mail tomorrow. And so with my gallon of water I stashed this as well in my pack and hauled over Lehigh Gap- which was like Albert the (expletive deleted) Wall times 3- not as long or exhausting as I was led to believe. The exposure though, I was glad I didnt know about that ahead of time, cause that was unnerving at ta few points. Then there was tick-infested grasslands, a very happy businessman awaiting me in Little Gap, a shady hot afternoon in the woods, the most unusual side trip to water ever, and a great conversation with Night Train the few miles before I called it a day at the shelter, an annual Bluegrass Fest in the distance.

Day 13
Rain. Warm, light rain though. The newly acquired sleepingbag liner has holes in it already. I'm super frustrated with most gear companies at this point, nor do I know what to do about getting a remake of eyeglasses before The Whites. But I'll get to Maine somehow in the next few months. An easy hike down into Wind Gap and 2 easy hiches in and out of an errand in town, the combination of thinking things out and wet lichen-covered rocks bogged me down thereafter. But no blisters in wet socks and boots all day, new boots even. Spent the late afternoon into evening reclined in a shelter watching the rain and conversing intermittently with Johnny from Tennessee who sections hikes on his vacation each year and will eventually himself complete the remaining 900 miles and counting of A.T.

Day 14
Easily knocked out a short half-day hike into Delaware Water Gap through a foggy green tunnel. A few white rhododendron blooms remained for me. I thought I remebered Mt. Minsi as painfully rocky, but bounced down it like What is this- Babystuff? Church of the Mountains Hostel I found BudHeavy and Jukebox departing, Pajama, Gas Cap and Nathan enjoying, and then a hot shower. The one thing I can think of specifically anticipating of my trek from Georgia to Maine besides the I-70 overpass is a basket of tree-ripened peaches in the pie bakery in town. Absolutely delicious. New socks and fuel canisters at Edge of the Woods Outfitter, I slept on the couch and caught up on some writing til nightfall when Karen picked me up for a few days rest at Spruce Lake before I go on to discover what Jersey holds.

From the Trail PA is the least interesting and least diverse of states thus far and probably of all to come. But at least they get us from Harpers Ferry to the Water Gap as directly and painlessly as possible. Also, on the whole, I don't think it's as rocky as they say, but I'm from a county adjacent to WVa and have already been to the Whites so perhaps my oppinion on this shouldn't count.

And now I have camp friends to rejoin for one final evening in familiar surroundings between here and Katahdin.

Entering Summertime

Landing an unexpected Zero day in Luray, I have at last become a believer. It's just so revitalizing. Half days off are all spent on the feet resupplying, washing laundry, making communications, and the body needs a break. Luray was fantastic. Well fed, all dried out from the rainy days, and having shed the winter gear at long last, I hit the second half of the Park to see most all the views and Sunday sightseers. In passing there's a plethora of questions which I'll pause brifly for. Alot of thru-hikers dislike this but I think maybe someone will be inspired to undertake the same for themselves someday if I'm willing to share a minute.
Are you on the 6 month tour too?, Were did you start?, How far are you hiking?, How long are you out for?, You're not doing it by yourself are you? and the like.
In the past week I have to say I have gotten all the most unprecedented interactions of the entire trip...

An older woman of a couple in Shenandoah:
Q: "So where are you hiking to?"
A: "Maine."
Rxn: She laughed in my face.
(I thought this was hilarious)

Man working front desk at the Appalachian Trail Conservancy Headquarters in Harpers Ferry:
Q: "So where are you on the Trail now?"
A: "Uhm- Harpers Ferry."
(No amount of just-at-Trail-Days or Memorial Day Weekend explanations were going to be good enough as he was already two for two at 9:15am.)

Two older guys doing a section over Memorial Day Weekend in Maryland
Q: "Where are you come hiking from?"
A: "Georgia"
Rxn: *Snort* "You did not. Wher'd you really start."
(Them's fightin' words)

A weekend backpacker coming south just after the I-70 overpass and before Annapolis Rock:
"You got a climb ahead of you."
A: *pause* "I think I can handle it"
(pause because all I could think at first was: Dude I walked here all the way from Georgia, ok; and Maryland's A.T. doesn't have any climbs)

But even the demoralizing proprieter in Harpers Ferry saying I was about to start the hard part right doesn't matter. I made it to Harpers Ferry, and this is huge, because for the first 3 states I didn't think I possibly ever would.

So having flown through the longest state of all, Virginia, in just 30 days, including 3 full days off and 2 half days, I hit the Maryland homestate, with the albeit unscenic, long awaited I-70 overpass. I've now caught up with multiple bunches I hadn't seen since the Smokies, crossed the Mason-Dixon and am psyched for the flatlands of the Cumberland Valley of PA, with all the camp friends contained there-in. On turf like this I'm going to hit the Whites totally spoiled. But on the momentum I've kept I should have plenty of time and no hurry to get over them many miles per day. I will however become a diurnal hiker. The Mid-Atlantic afternoons are getting steamy hot to say the least. I battle them with siestas and a camelback full of drink-mixed hydration. And thus I will ride the big mile momentum for as long as it lasts.

Shenandoah

Kicking off my entrance with a zero-and-a-half made a visible difference in my energy level I'm told. Having sworn off KEEN shoes forever I was now in lightweight Garmont boots which are my first love in hiking brands. The Bourgeois had most everything awaiting me that I miss on the trail...matress, bathtub, steak, fresh fruits and vegetables, milk, icecream, and familiar faces.

On that note, the afternoon rain held off and I began catching up again with hikers I hadnt seen since Hot Springs, or even the Smokies. At 70 degrees hiking in the next days prolonged downpours hardly phased me. But clearly I cant buy a nice view in a National Park.

If anything was to get me down it was the fact that my big toes had been wrecked by the KEENs and little toes get cut off by the new boots, which were already way past the point of no return. I trimmed circles out of the insoles make extra space inside and eventually resorted to cutting out two inches of the sidewalls to let my toes expand to their natural position. If the heels are snug enough I may try mens boots next time. But for now I have something that works for me and sometimes I hike in my flipflops for a few miles to mix it up and now I have my Chacos back for that.

Had to say a few goodbyes this week to long-distance-section-hikers moving on for the time being, but we ended on good memories. Terrain through the Park is pretty smooth and well graded. And I still have a few more days of the Park under forcasted clear skies. Well, it's way past hikermidnight so I'm signing off.