September 1, 2008
This is a 5-month long series of blog posts that are the entries in my journals written on most evenings as I hiked the Appalachian Trail in 1993. The journal entry appears first — indented — and then any additional commentary from my 15-years-removed perspective follows.
9/1/93 – Wed.
I made it out of Hanover today and 17 miles to Trapper John Shelter by 4:30 PM. I hiked the last five miles with Buck, which, as always, was enjoyable.
Tomorrow, we’re only doing 12 miles to Hexacuba Shelter, which is supposed to be an interesting place.
My boots are starting to go at the seam on the left(?) heel, so it looks like replacement will be in order before the big “K.” Hopefully, Salomon will replace them sight unseen and I won’t have to deal with buying a new pair. It looks like Dad was right again.
No real insights or deep thoughts again today. My mind seems to be at Katahdin rather than back here with me on the trail.
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August 31, 2008
This is a 5-month long series of blog posts that are the entries in my journals written on most evenings as I hiked the Appalachian Trail in 1993. The journal entry appears first — indented — and then any additional commentary from my 15-years-removed perspective follows.
8/31/93 – Tue.
Back on the trail, sort of. This is my second night in Hanover, NH, at a co-ed fraternity (Tabard House — used to be Sigma Chi) at Dartmouth. I’m here with Mosquito Lunch, Buck, Special K, Moose River, Pluck, Georgia Breeze, and a section hiker. We’re actually not really supposed to be here, but we are anyway.
Rush was fun and it was good to see everybody. Julie and I managed to sneak a pretty decent chunk of time alone, too, which was probably the best part of the time off.
Tomorrow, I start hiking in semi-ernest again with Mosquito Lunch. I’m looking forward to it.
I remember staying at Dartmouth, and I vaguely remember that we weren’t supposed to be staying where we were, but, for the life of me, I can’t remember why. It may be that we were after some point in time where the house was supposed to be off-limits to hikers as classes were starting back up, maybe? We were inside, and we didn’t break in to get there. Who knows?
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August 30, 2008
This is the post where our family vacation meets my writing up of my Appalachian Trail experiences from 1993. My parents didn’t find Rangeley, Maine, entirely on their own. They asked me for my input, seeing as I had walked through the state. Of course, my walk-through provided a pretty narrow perspective, but I told them that Rangeley would be as good a place as any for them to do some cabin-scouting. As it turned out…that’s where they wound up buying a cabin!
The Appalachian Trail (AT) gets its closest to Rangeley when it crosses Rt. 4 about 10 miles southeast of town. I’ve mildly fantasized over the years about bringing some “trail magic” to the AT. Trail magic is loosely defined as some sort of unexpected, highly pleasant experience on the trail, typically spawned by an act of goodwill either by a local person/community or a non-thru-hiker. I experienced my fair share of trail magic, and read about others’ that happened while I was hiking. A couple of times, someone would arrive at a shelter with beer and share it freely. That‘s what I’ve had my mind set on for years — either hiking into a shelter or sitting at a road crossing with a cooler. If at a road crossing, there would always be a couple of large pizzas included as well.
On our last day in Rangeley, after I had already told Julie that it didn’t look like I’d get to fulfill this fantasy on this trip (which wasn’t a big deal — my parents aren’t getting rid of the cabin any time soon, and we will be back!), Bob and I decided at 3:00 that we would give it a shot. We weren’t even sure if we could buy beer in Maine on Sunday, but we headed out. We picked up a 12-pack of Heineken cans at a convenience store, drove over to the AT, and hiked in the 1.8 miles to the Piazza Rock shelter.
I signed the Maine Appalachian Trail Conference trail register shortly before we got to the shelter (my note was that the trail looked great!):
Bob and I took each other’s pictures at Piazza Rock itself:
We arrived at the shelter to find one person there — “Silver” was a 57-year-old gentleman who has completed the AT four times since his first thru-hike in 1999. He lives out of a camper and tools around the country doing long-distance hiking. He winters in the Florida Keys, where he volunteers 3 days a week in a park in exchange for a free camper site. He was hiking from Monson, ME, down to Gorham, NH, on this trip.
We had a nice chat with him. As I’d hoped, his eyes lit up when I offered him a beer, and he assured me that the remaining beers would be appreciated. Bob and I each drank one with Silver, leaving 9 in the shelter for Silver and other hikers who passed through in the next few days:
We chatted longer than we should have, probably (Julie and Jen wound up squeezing all of the kids into our minivan and driving into town for dinner — leaving us a note to meet up with them), but it really was a neat experience.
It was a little odd to have a 57-year-old man telling me how much things had changed on the trail since I had hiked wayyyyyy back in 1993. I was the “old-timer!” But, there were also a lot of things that stayed the same. The shelter itself had been newly built when I passed through, and it’s been well-maintained and looks great. The fellow who ran the ferry across the Kennebec River for years — Steve Longley — was still involved with a hostel in the area, but had given up ferrying duties a year or two ago. He had actually driven me to the airport when I needed to fly to D.C. for Dee’s funeral. And, we chatted about various hostels and trail towns in the area that had changed over the years.
Silver also brought up the Appalachian Long Distance Hikers Association and their annual “Gathering,” which rang a bell deep in my brain, but of which I hadn’t been consciously aware of in years. He told me about trailjournals.com, which I think I had stumbled across several years ago when the daughter of some friends of my parents was hiking the AT. Times certainly have changed, as Silver talked about how internet access was expected at each of the hostels (allowing people to update their journals on the internet as they hiked, among other things, presumably). I suppose people may even use mobile devices to make journal entries from within a shelter, which I guess I am a bit of an old-timer about, as that just seems wrong! Silver also brought up how the stove fuel of preference these days is isopropyl alcohol (it was white gas when I was hiking).
I’ll do the same thing again, given the chance. Maybe even with the kids as they get older (it’s only 1.8 miles in to the shelter, but it’s got some steep climbs and some muddy sections that require walking across flattened logs). We were a bit late in the year to catch southbounders, and a bit early to catch the first big wave of northbounders…but it was great to meet a thru-hiker nevertheless and compare notes and experiences!
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August 26, 2008
This is a 5-month long series of blog posts that are the entries in my journals written on most evenings as I hiked the Appalachian Trail in 1993. The journal entry appears first — indented — and then any additional commentary from my 15-years-removed perspective follows.
8/26/93 – Thur.
Last entry for a bit. I made it to Killington, VT, last night & today did 21.3 miles to get me to VT 12, where Julie is to meet me. As I write, I sit on the side of the road and hope that she is the reason for this being a short entry.
Tomorrow, I am going to slackpack about 13 miles and then head to Boston for the weekend (MIT rush).
[Omitted: a couple of paragraphs about the stress I was generating in Julie’s family due to the hike and her frequent trips out to meet up with me.]
No more entries until Monday night.
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August 24, 2008
This is a 5-month long series of blog posts that are the entries in my journals written on most evenings as I hiked the Appalachian Trail in 1993. The journal entry appears first — indented — and then any additional commentary from my 15-years-removed perspective follows.
8/24/93 – Tue.
I did over 25 miles today but am still in bed & writing by 8:30. The rain started coming down really hard about an hour ago. It was a really nice day until about a mile before the shelter, when it started clouding up. But, I got here before it started raining, as did “Pooh Bear,” another northbounder. He is 26, a carpenter from Massachusetts, whose girlfriend dumped him while he was on the A.T. He’s a pretty cool guy, and I have enjoyed the evening.
Tomorrow, I hope to do the 20 miles to Killington, VT, where The Inn at Long Trail (my next maildrop) is. Tomorrow, I talk to Julie, and the next night I see her!
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August 23, 2008
This is a 5-month long series of blog posts that are the entries in my journals written on most evenings as I hiked the Appalachian Trail in 1993. The journal entry appears first — indented — and then any additional commentary from my 15-years-removed perspective follows.
8/23/93 – Mon.
As I write, I am seated at a picnic table at Mad Tom Shelter, baking a “pesto pizza” on the outback oven. This is meal #2 on the oven, and so far all is going well.
Now, back to yesterday.
Mosquito Lunch (Ben & Betsy) were pretty sore that Buck was planning on staying in the warming hut on top of Stratton Mtn., which would make for a 24-mile day, with a 3 1/2 mile uphill at the end. Ben predicted that we would arrive at 7:00 PM, which we stayed on track for most of the day. The three of us hiked together and talked the whole time, so most of the day passed fairly quickly.
About Mosquito Lunch:
Ben & Betsy are both from Syracuse, NY, and both know Ateev Mehrotra (sp?), a friend of mine from school (he used to live across the street from Ben and play with him daily). they have been dating for the past four years and live together in Pittsburgh, where Betsy is a junior at Pitt and where Ben has held a number of different jobs, his most recent being an auto mechanic. they are both very bright. Ben has pulled a number of “hacks” that would make any MIT hacker proud (he attended R.P.I. for six weeks on scholarship before dropping out). We talked about doing long-distance canoeing and they were both really interested, so who knows what the future may hold with them?
Back to yesterday.
We got to the summit of the mountain only to be told by the GMC (Green Mountain Club) caretaker in residence that the warming hut was 3/4 of a mile “further down the trail,” and taht Buck and “Special K” were indeed there. Now, had we stopped then and looked at the map, read the handbook carefully, and looked in the guidebook, we might have realized that she meant 3/4 of a mile down a side trail. But we didn’t do that until we’d already gone 0.7 miles down the mountain on the A.T. In the end, we arrived at the warming hut just before dark. Then, we stayed up talking and catching up until after 2:00 AM (the lights off for the last two hours). So, again this evening I am tired.
Everybody else went into Manchester Center, VT, today and are taking tomorrow off. I am pushing on so that when I take off for 2 days this weekend to go to rush, they won’t get too far ahead of me. With luck, I’ll be with them pretty much all the way to Katahdin.
(The first pizza turned out pretty well except it stuck to the pot a bit, which it wasn’t supposed to do. The second one is cooking now.)
The sunsets are supposed to be great at this shelter, and there are just enough clouds in the sky to make tonight’s a candidate for one of the best.
The end of the week seems so far away. Luckily, Vermont has been beautiful so far and I’ve finally caught up with some of the people I have been chasing for months. But I still wish it were already the end of the week and Julie was here.
This was a fairly significant…and highly memorable day. I’d first met Buck on June 3rd and hiked with her for a week before getting off the trail for a Love Family reunion. We really clicked (with Bearanoid as well), and I’d pretty much been keeping track of how far ahead of me she was from that point forward. So, no real surprise that we were up to 2:00 AM catching up on the prior two months — we’d made any number of mutual acquaintances along the way.
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August 22, 2008
This is a 5-month long series of blog posts that are the entries in my journals written on most evenings as I hiked the Appalachian Trail in 1993. The journal entry appears first — indented — and then any additional commentary from my 15-years-removed perspective follows.
8/22/93 – Sun.
Caught Buck. Long day. 1.4 mile detour. I’m tired. That’s it.
I’ve got very vivid memories of the latter part of this day. A more complete recap comes in the next entry.
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August 21, 2008
This is a 5-month long series of blog posts that are the entries in my journals written on most evenings as I hiked the Appalachian Trail in 1993. The journal entry appears first — indented — and then any additional commentary from my 15-years-removed perspective follows.
8/21/93 – Sat.
Thursday — 20 miles to Cheshire, MA, by 3:30 PM. Picked up maildrop, and stayed at St. Mary of the Assumption Catholic church.
Friday — hiked 14+ miles to Mass. Rt. 2 and stayed at a hotel in Williamstown. Did laundry and a lot of minor gear maintenance/repair, and talked to Julie for about 1 1/2 hours. I didn’t sleep well at all, mostly because I hit the pit of despair after talking to Julie.
Today, I crossed into Vermont & have seen a lot of people. Seven people at the shelter tonight, including Mosquito Lunch & Low Rider (!). I am tired and am shooting for 24 miles with M.L. to catch Buck tomorrow.
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August 19, 2008
This is a 5-month long series of blog posts that are the entries in my journals written on most evenings as I hiked the Appalachian Trail in 1993. The journal entry appears first — indented — and then any additional commentary from my 15-years-removed perspective follows.
8/19/93 – Thu.
(NOT – I didn’t make an entry)
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August 18, 2008
This is a 5-month long series of blog posts that are the entries in my journals written on most evenings as I hiked the Appalachian Trail in 1993. The journal entry appears first — indented — and then any additional commentary from my 15-years-removed perspective follows.
8/18/93 – Wed.
I didn’t sleep very well last night, which I attribute to the uneven shelter floor, mosquitoes, mice, one porcupine (gnawing on the shelter), and unidentified things going “bump” in the night. On top of that, the weather was overcast & misting until the middle of this afternoon, my feet started out wet, and I was trying to cover 22.8 miles in time to try out my outback oven while there was plenty of daylight left.
Despite all this, the day wasn’t half bad. I took a break at the edge of a place called Finerty Pond and had an experience I have not had in a couple of weeks. The pond was quite large, a couple hundred yards across, and the trail skirted around one end. A gentle breeze rippled the surface and made the lily pads bob up and down. The sun was out and there were a few rather innocuous clouds peacefully breaking up the monotony of blue. As I paused to take all of this in, I listened…and heard only the pond and the woods. No airplane overhead, no distant highway. I had not been so lucky in quite a while. Ironically, Finerty Pond is less that four trail miles from the Massachusetts Turnpike!
I did make it to the shelter in time to try out the oven, and the quiche, my first dish, was a smashing success — too bad no one else was here to see it! (Buck stayed here alone, too, last night, so I am now only a day back of her).
My right foot started aching a bit this afternoon, and I found myself waffling between hoping it was nothing serious and hoping that it was something like a stress fracture (although I don’t know exactly what that is), that would force me off the trail, but end my separation from Julie. In the end, I decided to hope that it is nothing serious, as I am now at the “I’ve come this far…” stage.
This shelter seems to be a real rodent haven. The mice are already scurrying around like mad. Last night (I think), mice chewed a hole in my waterbag bladder, so I now have to be careful how I hold it.
Massachusetts marks the beginning of porcupine territory, and they will apparently chew on anything that’s got salt on it, including backpack straps, boots, and picnic tables, so virtually all gear has to be hung out of reach.
There’s a book here called The Tao of Pooh, which is both informative & entertaining (yes, Tao as in Taoism and Pooh as in Winnie-the).
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