I’ve heard it said that if you want to hear God chuckle, then tell him your plans.  I’m thinking that he must have pretty sore ribs after this summer.

  This hike was supposed to be just one hike; albeit a looong one.  Fly down to GA, walk north for six-seven months, arrive at my destination in ME and go home; what could possibly go wrong?  What I thought would be just one long continuous hike now appears to have turned into four hikes.  So I’m now starting Act III of this play.  It is now obvious to me that because I had to spend so much time off the trail since I started my hike, that I now don’t have enough time to complete the entire AT before winter this year.  So my new plan, (I think I’m up to plan “C” now) is to spend a couple of weeks hiking to complete the AT in VT, then convince one of my children that it’s their turn to chauffeur me down to Harper’s Ferry so I can spend the fall completing the southern parts of the AT that I skipped last spring, and save the hike through NH and ME for another year.  Let’s see how hard God laughs at that plan.

Too often I’ve heard that thru hikers spend the last 6 weeks of their hike just wanting to get to the end, wanting to get finished, wanting to get it over with. So one of my goals for this adventure was to avoid reaching that point of mental and emotional fatigue where I’m walking just to get to the finish line. I want to make sure that it’s about the journey, and not about the end or the re-telling of the journey afterwards. I didn’t really have a good plan to accomplish this. I was counting on frequent communication with family, occasional visits with friends, occasional visits from Anita, and a weekly day off to help alleviate the emotional fatigue of being away from home. So I feel like the events that have taken me off the trail are working to keep me from getting mentally, emotionally, and physically fatigued. I certainly get refreshed every time I go home.

On August 16, Anita drove me back to the spot on the AT in Vermont, where I left on July 16. Temperatures were in the high 50’s; perfect hiking weather. And of course I am apprehensive again. This time my concern is pretty simple: I’d like to go for at least four weeks without falling, When one hikes for hundreds of miles over rough terrain, it is inevitable that you will fall. So far my average has been about one fall per month.

I’m now afraid of falling because my arm is not completely healed. Elbow dislocations in 61 year old males whose tendons and ligaments are not very flexible, do a lot of damage to those tendons and ligaments; which means it takes many weeks for them to heal and lots of physical therapy to regain full range of motion. My current range of motion is only about 50% of normal. I’m trying to continue my physical therapy exercises while hiking. Therefore, it would be best if I didn’t use my injured arm to try to break a fall for a while.

In addition to cooler weather, I’ve also noticed that there are very few AT NoBo hikers on the trail. I see lots of day hikers when near a trail head, as well as AT SoBo thru hikers. And since this section of trail is actually part of Vermont’s Long Trail, I also see NoBo and SoBo Long Trail hikers. The AT NoBo bubble of thru hikers is a couple weeks ahead of me. Being the only AT NoBo in the area means that many hikers express an interest in my hike by asking when I started. I’ve been answering that question by letting them know that I started three different times and then I explain why. While I enjoy the interaction, I don’t like the fact that the conversation is all about me and my hike. I need to learn how ask about their hike before I spend all the time talking about myself.

  This past week, the AT has taken me on a summit tour of several of Vermont’s ski areas: Stratton, Bromley, Killington, and Pico mountains.  I’m wondering if Vermont might have the highest number of ski resorts per capita in the country.  Camping on a mountain summit is one of those things where the reality often doesn’t meet the expectation.  In addition to being exposed to the wind all night long, there is seldom a water source, and low cloud cover in the morning often obscures the anticipated sunrise.  But I have enjoyed some nice sunsets.

  Tomorrow, if this country bumpkin can figure out the Rutland bus schedule, I’ll leave this motel after re-supplying at the local Tops Market, and return to the trail head near the Killington ski resort.

My week started off with a two night stay in Bennington, VT, for a re-supply and much needed muscle recovery time.  When I got back on trail, I enjoyed the benefit of higher elevation- namely cooler temperatures.  For every 1000’ of elevation gained, the temperature decreases by 3 degrees.  Since I was hiking at an elevation that was 3000’ higher than Bennington, the temperatures were in the low 70s instead of the low 80s that were forecasted.

  I feel like I’ve had more energy this week than I had in previous weeks.  The rest in Bennington and the cooler weather helped.  And since I was planning to rendezvous with my better half this weekend, I needed to cover fewer miles this week, so there were days when I finished hiking in the early afternoon.

  This past week seemed to be family week.  I saw several family units out backpacking.  Many were dads out with their sons and daughters.  It kind of made me feel guilty for not taking my kids backpacking when I had the opportunity, but then I remembered the canoe trips that we did, and I didn’t feel so guilty.  Anyway, I was glad that I got to see some good parenting.

  Vermont doesn’t seem to have any rock outcroppings that create natural views.   But we do get views from fire towers and at the locations where the trail intersects with the top of an alpine ski slope.

  Last Wednesday was one of those low mileage/early finish days that allowed me to spend the afternoon relaxing and visiting with other hikers.  Late in the afternoon, I met a couple of guys from Charlotte who had spent nearly two hours waiting for their older buddy, Joe, to catch up.  When he finally appeared, Joe plodded right past his friends without acknowledging them, which was very out of character for him.  They caught up with and turned Joe around and then realized that he was experiencing some medical issue which was impacting his ability to reason.  Joel, one of the group, got camp set up and proceeded to get the sick man re-hydrated, fed, and rested.  The other member went on ahead 12 miles to drive their truck to a spot closer by to get Joe.   Joe was monitored throughout the night.  In the morning, Joe and Joel back-tracked one and a half miles to a forest service road where their companion would meet them with the truck.

  Also on Wednesday evening, I was reunited with Grimm.  If you recall, I hiked through a lot of PA with him but we split up when he had to take a couple of days off to allow blisters to heal.  Since I was signing trail registers, he was able to see how far ahead I was and spent the past 3 weeks trying to catch up to me.

  A couple of other events unfolded on Thursday morning.  A woman that was missing/late was located.  Her husband had been wandering around the camp/shelter the previous evening but didn’t tell us that he was looking for his overdue wife. We had head lamps and could have helped if we had known.  So she spent an unexpected night curled up next to the trail beneath her emergency blanket.

  The second event that happened on Thursday morning involved me.  I once again left camp before 7 AM.  After hiking for only ten minutes, I came to a bunch of boulders that I failed to traverse successfully.  In about a tenth of a second I found my left arm horizontally supported by a boulder with my entire body weight trying to make it bend a direction it wasn’t designed to bend.  Since my body was wedged between two boulders, it wasn’t easy to get off my misshapen arm.  As I sat slumped against a rock, trying not to pass out, I weighed my options.  The shelter was only ten minutes away, but since I was too light-headed to walk, I chose to just wait and let help come to me.  Joe and Joel arrived in about 10 minutes and Grimm arrived in another 15.  Joel explained their plan to get Joe picked up at the forest service road that was 1.5 miles away and that they could take me to the urgent care in Manchester, VT.  So the three of them took turns carrying my pack and keeping an eye on me while I slowly made my way up the trail, trying to walk smoothly to reduce the jarring and pain in my arm. 

At the urgent care, I said goodbye to the three guys from Charlotte. The x-rays confirmed what we all suspected- a dislocated elbow. While the doctors sedated me, put my arm back in place, and placed it in a sling, Grimm reserved a room for us at the local Hampton.

I was originally optimistic that I would be able to get back on trail in less than a week, But after I was told to see an orthopedic doctor, I did some research on the interweb and learned that recovery usually takes several weeks and involves physical therapy. So my friend Bruce, who was going to join his wife Phoebe and Anita to hike with me this weekend, picked me up and returned me to my family on Friday evening. While I was glad to see my family, I’m not really excited to be home.

   On Monday I will try to make a doctor’s appointment and will practice my Jedi powers in being patient.  I’m pretty sure that I can get back on trail this year, but I may not be able to complete it until next year.  I will be forever grateful for the help I received from Grimm and the guys from Charlotte.  God knew I was going to get injured and surrounded me with the support I needed.  My hope is that I will be a support for someone else in need.

  I’ll keep you all posted on what’s happening.

I hiked by a couple of lakes and took the opportunity to have a debate with myself about whether or not I should go for a swim. Cons: It isn’t that hot, so I am not that sweaty; I’ll have to wear wet shorts for several hours; it’s a pain to put my toe sock liners on over wet feet; and the mosquitoes will feast on my pale torso when I remove my shirt. Pros: It’s been a couple of days since I last showered; I may regret passing up the opportunity; and it will probably feel good. The “yeas” won out, so in I went. Well, I really waded into the drink with the water slightly above my knees and then stood there trying to summon up the courage to make the commitment to dive in. And get this folks: The water wasn’t even cold! If it had been cold, which I define as less than 70 degrees, I would have only put my piggy toes in. I eventually dived in, surfaced, and got out since the deed was done. Sometimes things just require more bravery than I can summon.

The terrain I’ve been traversing is slowly changing. The woods are starting to take on more characteristics of the northern forests: Cardinals, scrub oaks, mountain laurel, and rhododendrons are giving way to blue jays, balsams, and witch hobble. Since leaving Pennsylvania, the elevation of the mountain ascents has been slowly increasing with each new state or mountain range that I encounter as I head north. The Poconos, Palisades, Berkshires, and Green mountains are all preparing us for New Hampshire’s arduous White Mountains and the Bigelow range in southern Maine. Since I have just entered Vermont’s Green Mountains, I will have to count on them to complete my preparation.

In the AT community, Vermont is known as Vermud. A trivia question from the AT community: What is the longest river in Vermont? Answer: the Appalachian Trail. My impressions of Vermont might be a bit premature since I have only spent a day hiking in the state, but I’m not sure the AT in Vermont is any worse than the trails in the Adirondack High Peaks. I’m sure it depends on how much rainfall was recently received.

  I often think of the first three verses of Psalms 23.  I am usually fairly content where I am, with what I’ve been given to do, and like to pat myself on the back for not falling victim to envy.  But I have to admit that I have recently been struggling with envy.  If you have been following my blog, you may recall that I have jokingly complained about younger folks effortlessly cruising past me while ascending mountains.  I was comfortable with seeing those strong young men and women cruise by me a couple of months ago, because I was assuming that as the miles rolled by, I would get stronger and would be able to have a more aggressive hiking pace.  Maybe I am getting stronger, but I’m usually not seeing or feeling it.  My pace is just so much slower and I need longer and more frequent breaks than other hikers.  I know, I know, I’m not supposed to compare myself with others.   But it is important to measure ourselves.  When one expects to see change in oneself, then you compare yourself with yourself.  I don’t ever expect to be as strong as a 30 year old.  But I would like to get to the point where I can see and feel that I am getting stronger and have more confidence in my physical ability.  

I have heard past thru hikers say that it never gets easier. I guess I need to have more patience with myself. I think I’m entering the more challenging dimension of a thru hike; the mental, emotional and spiritual struggles. The battle within. I’ve read about this and now it’s here. It’s intimidating to know that it’s time to face it. It reminds me of the scene in Lord of the Rings when the good guys are preparing for the battle of Helm’s Deep and watching them face battle fear.

  Okay, okay, this is only a hike.  Or, as author Bill Bryson calls it, “a walk in the woods.  It’s time to stop fretting about this and time to put one foot in front of the other.

  After Anita helped me slack pack for half the day, we had to say goodbye to each other as I headed back into the woods and she headed for home.  I had a relaxed couple of zeros (off days) and my soul and soles were grateful.

I also said goodbye to New York; I’m going to miss all those delis that were near most road crossings, but I will not miss the rocks. With new shoes on my feet and homemade granola in my food sack, I entered Connecticut. When I asked four teenagers and their dad, all from Connecticut, why it is called “the constitution state” nobody knew! That can be our trivia question for this week.

  This past week I’ve spent a lot of time hiking alone.  I occasionally would see a few section hikers but I saw only one thru hiker.  I seem to be between thru hiker bubbles.  Several of the guys I have hiked with at times over the past few weeks have taken some days off due to medical/injuries: Ironheart, Cowboy, Grimm, and Fly by Night.  Others, like Viking and JERM, have a faster pace than yours truly.  The strong NOBO thru hiker bubble that is south of me will soon catch up to me.

The weather had really been dry for the past several weeks; prior to my hike with Anita when it rained one afternoon, I think it had been three weeks since I had any rainfall where I was. Many springs and small streams have dried up. Thankfully, the AT app that I use does a really good job of identifying reliable water sources, which has allowed me to continue to carry only one liter of water. I am mindful of how far it is to the next water source and occasionally will carry extra water at the end of the day if the campsite that I’m heading for doesn’t have water.

Twice this past week, after I got camp set up, we had early evening thunderstorms. On each occasion I was able to catch runoff water and filter it for my potable water. Neither of those campsites had a good water source; the water that came from the hand pump well was rusty and the other site’s small stream was nearly dry. I also used the rain shower to give myself a sponge bath and to wash out my sweat soaked shirt. Control your imaginations, I wasn’t running around the woods buck naked; I had my shorts on. Although, on a separate occasion I had to make some additional noise and avert my eyes while the couple that was bathing scurried to the bank to hide themselves.

A kind stranger gave me a ride in to Salisbury, CT where I re- supplied. And once again I repeated the mistake of shopping when hungry with the same results: I bought twice as much food as I really needed. When will I learn? The blessings for the day were a quiet courtyard with tables and chairs where I could enjoy my Grinder (that’s Connecticut speak for a sub), got to wish my mom a happy birthday, and I was able to get my camp set up before the skies opened up.

Finally, by the end of the week I had ascended the highest peak in Connecticut and then entered the second largest cranberry producing state on our nation’s birthday. The only way for me to celebrate was to listen to the musical “Hamilton.”

Serve up those cranberries.

NY greeted us on Father’s Day by having the mountain laurel at peak bloom.  The blossoms started falling the following day.

  Early that Sunday afternoon found me on a 1.25 mile blue blaze trail heading into the village of Greenwood Lake for a resupply, and since I was in town, a lunch that wasn’t made of tortillas.  As I waited in the outdoor seating area for my burger and fries at a pub, another guest approached me to ask about my hike.  He explained that I would be passing about 1.5 miles from his home in 3 days and he would enjoy taking me to a store for my next resupply.  So I got his phone number and we’ll see what happens.

I met another kind stranger a couple of hours later. I had read about this nationally acclaimed ice cream stand located just .2 miles off the trail that is very hiker friendly. They provide an outdoor phone charging station and faucet for refilling water bottles. When I stopped at the stand in the early evening of that hot Father’s Day, I wasn’t hungry because of my late lunch, so when I estimated that it would be an hour wait in line to get ice cream, I just went toward the back of the stand where the charging station was, plugged in my phone and battery block, pulled out a small bag of chips from my earlier town visit, and sat my weary body down on the concrete with my back against the wall and started munching. Keep in mind that I don’t have to be hungry to eat chips. As I was doing this, I noticed a woman that was likely the owner, enter through the back service entrance. A few minutes later, the woman returned, paused in front of me and asked, “Can I get you some ice cream? I saw how long that line is and just thought that a thru hiker isn’t going to have the energy to wait in line that long.” So two minutes later she brought out a chocolate milkshake for me and refused to let me pay for it.

  Then I was hiking through Bear Mountain State Park.  I hadn’t seen another backpacker for a couple of days but I did see day hikers ascending as I was descending the mountain.  I was feeling kind of blah after a couple of hard days with the rugged terrain and warm temperatures, and I didn’t have much energy.  I met a couple of thru hikers taking a break before crossing the Hudson River on the Bear Mountain suspension bridge.  We enjoyed great views as we crossed on the walkway adjacent to the vehicular lanes.  We met 3 guys starting their section hike as we reached the eastern shore and answered in the affirmative when asked if we were thru hikers.  After introductions, the leader of the trio said he wanted to help thru hikers while he was out, reached into his pack’s hip belt pocket, and handed each of us a $100 bill!

  JERM and I arrived at a concession stand at a state park 10 minutes after the grill closed, so all we could order were ice cream bars and drinks.  At the cash register I was handed a paper bag that I assumed was another customer’s order, but since there was no one else standing around I had to ask about it.  I was told the bag contained French fries, salt and ketchup for us.

  Why?  Why did these strangers want to help out someone that hasn’t bathed for much too long, wears torn clothes, and often showers and swims with their clothes on?  I still can’t wrap my head around this “trail magic” thing.  I think there is something about having that backpack that fascinates people; the appealing idea of being able to temporarily throw off responsibilities and all that ties one down, and be carefree.  Then when they realize what we’re doing, their imagination is captured, and so is their desire to assist us in our journey.  That may be why some of you are following this blog.  

  There has been a lot of conversation about privilege and I am very aware of the fact that I enjoy blessings that others don’t have.  There are so many other people that are more needy of the gifts I have been receiving, so it is with great humility that I have accepted them.  Trail magic is an inadequate description for these gifts.  Unmerited favor is better known as grace.

  For this brief period of time, the trip is no longer a dream for me- it is a reality.  I stopped wishing and started doing.  Unfortunately, I know that after I have completed it, this trip will once again seem like a dream.  The present can be so temporary.  But I’m not sure it has to be.  At times I am guilty of racing into the future and dreaming about tomorrow; at other times I am guilty of living in the past.  While hiking, it seems like I’m usually able to stay in the present.

While I approached the CT border, Anita was able to join me for a day of hiking and a double zero. It was relaxing to hike in the rain with her and to spend a couple of days at a motel doing nothing but allowing our bodies to recover. Yes my poor wife had to recover, not from two days of hiking but from three nights of inadequate sleep. When asked by a fellow hiker about her reaction when I told her I wanted do a thru hike, Anita responded that she was supportive but that the current outing confirmed her wisdom of not wanting to do a thru hike herself. I need to continue to work on her.

  Now, New England awaits.

  I remember feeling disappointed as we descended into the Delaware Water Gap National Recreation Area.  Yeah, there were a couple of trails to hike and a river you can paddle, if you don’t mind being sandwiched between a busy four lane highway, a two lane highway, and a railroad.  The din from all the traffic was almost overwhelming as I descended the mountainside.

  I had a nearo in the small community of Delaware Water Gap, which was a quaint, hiker-friendly town and which provided just enough services to satisfy a thru hiker.  A bakery/farmer’s market, pizza shop, hostel-provided by a church, hotel, outfitter, ice cream parlor, and a couple of convenience stores were the resources we had to make do for a resupply.  A couple of visits to the bakery for breakfast sandwiches and a pulled pork meal each left me too full to try one of their pies, a disappointment that may require therapy to overcome.  I need to do a better job at prioritizing before starting a meal.

  The down time at the Clarion, which was empty except for a half dozen thru hikers, was spent allowing my feet to recover from the beating they took from the rocky trail, doing laundry by hand because the guest laundry was one of several services closed so they wouldn’t have to sanitize it, downloading music and a couple of e-books, and updating this blog.  (Wow, the apostle Paul would be proud of that run-on sentence.)

The trail north from DWG followed roads for about 1.5 miles. The half mile long I-80 bridge across the Delaware River included a pedestrian lane behind a concrete barrier. It was a little unnerving to sense how much this concrete bridge deflected up and down every time a loaded truck roared past, which was about once every 15 seconds. I hadn’t noticed that much deflection in other bridges that we crossed. I could only trust that the engineers were on their game during the construction of the bridge.

 Since I crossed the Delaware River that means that I am no longer in PA!   Entering NJ brought the anticipation of change: Fewer rocks, different terrain, and perhaps easier walking.  Back in the woods, I passed a pond built by beavers and filled with lily pads.  Frogs of all shapes and sizes were calling out to one another.  Later, that same morning, I was serenaded by a pack of coyotes.

 In the past, whenever I thought of NJ, I would think of beaches, both developed and undeveloped, lots of traffic, attitude, and the area around Newark.  The northwest part of the state is a different world.  

 The AT in NJ passes through forested ridges, rolling hay fields, and forests that had reclaimed fields a century ago.  The many stone fences I passed while hiking in a forest are monuments to those who lived here in the 19th century and struggled to get the land to produce enough so they could survive the winter.  If these folks could see their former farms today, I wonder what emotions would grip them?

 I spent a few days hiking with Cowboy and Iron-heart.  Cowboy is a Vietnam vet, looks like he is in his 70s, and is attempting to complete his second thru hike of the AT.  Iron-heart is trying to complete the trail after hiking half of it in 2017.  Both have had significant cardiac events and procedures. I admire them for continuing to be active.

We hiked through wildlife refuges, parks, a mile long boardwalk through wetlands, and heard the croak of a blue heron, all while dodging hoards of day hikers during the weekend.

  On days that were hot, I found it difficult to hike as far as I would like.  My breaks got longer and more frequent.  I found it helpful to soak my shirt in a stream and then put it on wet.  And on some occasions I hiked into the evening when it was a little cooler.

And finally, we got a real taste of New Jersey attitude from a vendor while getting lunch at a roadside hot dog stand.  After getting his hot dogs, Cowboy, who’s from Georgia, commented to me that he can’t get used to how rude folks from the North are.  Iron-heart is also from Jersey, so he gave the vendor some of his own attitude.  Apparently it’s all in good fun, even though it would make me blush to repeat what was said.  The vendor sat down with us and continued his demonstration, saying off colored things in Yiddish and then providing the translation.  It was just like being in the city.

  Next, it’s time to tackle the Empire State.

The first day of this new week was great.  We enjoyed a rare summer day in PA  with low humidity and temperatures in the 70’s, very similar to an Adirondack summer day.  The “we” that enjoyed the weather were Justin, Christina, Garret, and Bo Weber who not only brought me breakfast, but spent the day hiking with me AND carrying my pack!   I was blessed with good conversation and entertainment in the form of watching Garret drop off a rope swing into a cool, spring fed, mountain pond.  Thanks, Weber’s, for spending the day with your crazy uncle!

After I stumbled over countless rocks the following day, Ivan and Lois Lantz picked me up at Port Clinton and I spent the next two nights at their home in Reading, enjoying home cooked meals, sleeping in a bed, and getting abused by Elizabeth. (She told me that I was the only nut in this house.) It was great catching up with friends that I don’t get to see often enough.

Then I was back out in the high heat and high humidity.  While silk blazing, I imagined an illustration much like a Far Side panel: a spider mite digging his heels in, holding his strand of silk that he has spun across the AT, calling to his friends “I’ve caught a big one!”  I went to sleep that sultry evening listening to thunder slowly rolling towards me.

It’s good to occasionally vary one’s routine. My typical daily routine is to get up with the birds around 5 am, and be on the trail by 6:30. The previous night’s thunderstorm continued into dawn, and delayed the start of my day; it was 8:00 until Grimm and I got on the trail as the sky was clearing. Grimm is another flip flopper of the same vintage as yours truly and we seem to spend a couple of days a week with each other. During our early afternoon lunch we decided we would have an early supper at the trailside restaurant that just reopened with outdoor dining, located at the next road crossing. So I continued my tour of PA’s food establishments on foot. After supper, we hiked two more miles where we set up camp for the evening.

We stayed in Palmerton, PA, at a hostel behind Bert’s Steakhouse Diner. Palmerton on is the site of an EPA superfund restoration project designed to re-vegetate the mountains after everything died there. It was discovered that zinc mining companies had been leaching zinc slag into the water and air for years. The AT is adjacent to the restoration site and I was encouraged to see the land recovering and satisfied to know that we can fix the damage that we cause. The ascent from Palmerton required scrambling up boulders, using hands as well as feet. The low humidity and low vegetation combined to give us fantastic views.

The points of the rocks that are sticking about two inches out of the ground battered our feet; bruising the bottoms of them. This was a section of trail where one could make a case for wearing hiking boots instead of trail runners.

The last 30 miles of trail before we entered the Delaware Water Gap National Recreation Area had few springs adjacent to the trail. And the few springs that were available were often over a half mile away, down the mountain. We were blessed, however, with water caches that a trail angel placed adjacent to dirt road crossings and shelters.

 I discovered that food can be a real pick-me-up.  I remembered that many stores in PA have smoked Lebanon sweet bologna.  When I put bologna in a flour tortilla and have Fig Newtons for dessert, I feel like I can conquer Mt. Everest!  And you won’t believe how good restaurant food tastes after hiking 15 miles and eating nothing but pasta sides for several days.

  I have to sign off now; it’s time to continue my tour of restaurants in the Delaware Water Gap.

Thanks to my niece and nephew, Scot and Dawn, who live near the AT, I was able to enjoy a zero day after a week of hiking. They shuttled me to and from the trail, fed me, let me borrow a car so I could visit Mom and a couple of my siblings, and Scot and Dawn’s five-year-old twins kept me entertained. There are many things that we do at home daily that we take for granted. But when on a long hike, things like using a flush toilet, sleeping in a bed, putting on freshly laundered clothes, or taking a hot shower are a real thrill. My body was grateful for the rest and my soul was nourished by the visits.

During my hike through MD and southern PA, it seemed like the trail led me through a state park every couple of days. Again I enjoyed the opportunities to use a porcelain throne and a picnic table. Often, either in or adjacent to parks, there is the opportunity to purchase a hot or cold sandwich and a cold drink. Since the trail goes through Boiling Springs and Duncannon, PA, we again treated ourselves to town food by going to an outdoor cafe for chef salads and picking up six dozen wings from a pub. Town food is always a highlight of my day.
You may be wondering why I’m using plural pronouns. No- I’m not referring to myself in the plural form. I was invited to join a tramily for the week. “Can Do It” is around 70 yrs. old and is hiking a section of the AT in PA with “Flap”, a Penn State grad student. They met on Facebook while looking for a hiking partner. “Classic Mathew” and “Learning Curve” are thru hikers, each hiking their own hikes, and they will return to their normal pace once the ladies head home. Even though I’m not used to some of the language I hear, nor am I accustomed to the occasional smell of weed being smoked, each of these individuals is a deep, caring person that would give you the shirt off their back if you need one. My trip is richer because of them.
I’m finding that I’m getting to know more hikers on this leg of my trip. I think the cause is that there are fewer hikers on the trail now. Instead of 16 people being camped in or around a shelter, there are now only 4-6 hikers there. I’m meeting one new person at a time.
Our tramily did just an eight mile day once because a late afternoon storm was predicted. After we finished eating our bratwurst and rolls that I had packed in for all, we noticed the sky getting darker so we retreated to the shelter. A few minutes later, nine phones started vibrating with tornado warnings issued by the national weather service. While the high winds did blow rain into the shelter, we all stayed safe and dry and none of us sighted a funnel.
Its kind of ironic how the closer I get to civilization, the more wildlife I see. I saw more animals in the first four days of Act II than I did during the four weeks of Act I, when I was in some remote mountains of the southern Appalachians. I saw lots of deer and cottontail rabbits while trekking across PA’s Cumberland Valley, skirting farm fields, interstates, expressways, truck terminals, and big box stores. A couple of days ago I sighted a wild turkey with her 8 chicks, and later, a fawn lying next to the trail.

The ability to laugh at yourself is a requirement for thru hiking. When Scot had dropped me off at the trailhead at 6 AM, he commented that my pack was heavy and I should take the rock out of it. I had a brief chuckle about that as we parted ways. Imagine the chuckle I had 4 hours later when I opened my pack to get a snack and found a 3 pound rock in it! Four days later I found myself wading through a beaver swamp that was about 75 yards long. My telescoping, adjustable length trekking poles came in handy to probe the murky depths as I slowly made my way across after I removed my hiking shoes and donned Crocks. As I moved along, I couldn’t seem to get away from the edge of the deeper hole that my right side trekking pole kept dropping in to. I couldn’t understand why the path cut through all the blowdowns in the swamp was where the water was the deepest. Finally, about 20 yards from the end of the swamp, it all made sense to me; I lifted my right pole again to re-plant it and noticed that one section had collapsed and it was now only 2’ long! There are times when I really out-smart myself.

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And finally, I finished the week on another high note as my friends, Steve and Deb Hagey, met me at a trail head and brought me lunch, a couple of Cokes, freshly picked strawberries, and most importantly encouragement and laughter. I can’t thank them enough.
Now, let’s see what’s over the next hill.

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As we were driving toward Harpers Ferry, WV, on Sunday, May 23, my thoughts were drifting towards my fears, apprehension, and self doubt.  I had spent four weeks on the trail in March and you would think I would be filled with confidence.  But nooooo, not me.  This is like starting a whole new hike- different terrain with its own challenges,  and instead of trying to stay warm at night now I have to try to stay cool.  And speaking of sleeping, there will be no more quiet nights; there will be a constant din of crickets and cicadas.  I will be hiking through a state known in the hiking community as Rocksylvania, I have to be alert for rattlesnakes, poison ivy, and ticks.  How does one hike in 90* temperatures with 90% humidity?

I haven’t even mentioned the ramifications of hiking during a pandemic.  I must have stepped off the trail 15 times an hour to let people pass during the holiday weekend. I also fear being judged- being known as a thru hiker used to be an asset, now I’m concerned it may be a liability.  Some folks might be afraid of me.

Oh, and I am also carrying an additional 10 lbs. Anita thought it quite humorous that I had to lengthen my hip belt on my backpack so that I could buckle it.

Moving through fears and self doubt is a necessary step that is required for personal growth.  That is why I chose to attempt a thru hike, to put myself in situations where I have to adapt and learn to overcome adversity, to attempt to do something that is far bigger than I am.

Thanks to Covid19, my NOBO thru hike attempt has now become a flip flop.  Act 2 started just north of Harpers Ferry and will go through MD and PA.  Hopefully trail access in the New England states will open by the time I get there.  In early September, when I reach Mt. Katahdin in ME, I plan to get a ride back to HF and hike south through autumn.

The AT in MD goes through a handful of civil war battle sites.  It was appropriate for me to reflect on the causes of that awful conflict while hiking through the battlegrounds during Memorial Day weekend.  It’s too bad my kids weren’t with me so that I could annoy them by stopping to read every placard.  

Let me know what you think silk blazing is in the comments.  Since I’ve started hiking early in the morning to beat the summer heat, I get to silk blaze until other hikers get on the trail.

During my first morning on the trail, I was contemplating how my senses were getting assaulted.  My eyes nearly had to squint because everything they saw was some brilliant hue of green.  My eardrums were vibrating from the scolding of chipmunks, the pounding of pileated woodpeckers, and the mating calls of scores of birds of a plethora of species.  In addition to the typical forest smells, my olfactory was also tantalized with gentle aromas from a farm wafting up from the valley below.  My tastebuds were massaged by Anita’s homemade granola.  And my skin tingled as drops of dew fell from the tree canopy above and landed on my bare arms. 

In The Great Divorce, C.S. Lewis talks about people on a bus trip to heaven.  The physical realm of heaven was more real than anything on earth; so real that it was painful to the earthly senses.  This reflection made me wonder if we will gain additional senses in heaven and if our current five senses will be awakened from the state of dullness from which they have degenerated.

That’s the real adventure that we have to look forward to.

In one of my previous posts, I wrote about the tradition of trail names.  Why do you think these folks received their trail names: Miss AT, Jet, Beehive, Lefty, Tablesaw?

Resupplies

My first resupply was at Neels Gap, 39 miles from the start of my hike at Amicalola Falls.  The AT goes across the porch of Mountain Crossings Outfitters and hostel, where I spent a couple of hours eating lunch and purchasing food for three more days.  It seemed that at any given time there were 10-20 hikers there and the store does a booming business, considering that they are located in the middle of nowhere.  By this point, hikers realize the importance of having a light pack and some are now willing to invest more money to make that happen.

For my second resupply, another hiker and I got a ride into Hiawasee, GA, for an overnight motel stay, and opportunities to enjoy restaurant dining.  Even though the motel was in desperate need of some TLC, it sure was nice to enjoy using a flush toilet and taking a long, hot shower. I spent a quiet evening reading and writing while most of the hikers spent the evening at the local brewery.  A quiet early morning diner breakfast preceded the morning shuttle ride back to the trail head.

By the time I reached Franklin, NC, for the next resupply, restaurant dining was a thing of the past, due to new mandates on closing eateries.  I could still get a motel room but I had to get used to walking up to the drive through at the fast food places and ordering take out from the Mexican restaurant.

Resupply #4 found me at the Nantahala Outdoor Center, which has a small store with very limited food supplies. But I found enough to keep me hiking for another 4 days.  It was here that I spent several hours working on the logistics of leaving Graham county, NC, before they closed the highways to non-residents and arranged for a shuttle to take us to the northeast border of GSMNP.

While Hot Springs, NC, is a hiker friendly village, apparently law enforcement didn’t want us to loiter or spend the night in town.  The proprietor of an inn bent the rules and let three of us stay for the night. The local diner was glad to serve us take out and let us eat on their porch.

When Beehive, Jet, and I were in Hot Springs, the temperature was in the low 80s.  We knew those warm temperatures couldn’t last, so as we departed town, we were prepared for a 25 degree drop in temperature.  But I forgot that April Fool’s Day was coming up and the good Lord had other ideas. We spent most of April 1 and 2 hiking and camping in snow.  Thru hikers have enough gear to survive some winter weather but not enough to be comfortable. Trying to break camp in the morning is the worst- putting on frozen  socks and shoes, and packing away ice covered rain flies all contribute to numbing our fingers. Once again I was grateful to a trail angel for the kindness shown to a couple of shivering strangers with fresh fruit, a cup of hot chocolate, a cream filled oatmeal cookie, and a warm-up break inside her RV.

Oh, the sight that greeted us as the clouds broke up- the same moment Jet and I exited the woods onto the summit of Big Bald Mountain (5,200 ft), which has hundreds of acres of what looked like snow covered pasture land.  The intense sunlight reflecting off the snow made our squinting eyes look like mere slits, the northwest wind forced us to keep our hoods up and hands in our pockets, while our trekking poles dangled from our wrists. We could see some other thru hikers ascending an open slope a half mile away while cross country ski tracks lay at our feet.  I was glad to see that some local was out seizing the opportunity. Of course the photos I took don’t do the scene justice. Throughout the rest of the day, it felt like we were in Narnia as the White Witch’s spell was breaking and winter was coming to an abrupt end.

Shortly after this, we learned from the Appalachian Trail Conservancy that in addition to the trail being closed in the national parks, it was now also being closed in the national forests.  While I saw a couple of notices posted at road crossings, I didn’t see anyone enforcing the mandate. Many hikers feel that they are safer and are less likely to spread COVID-19 while on the trail than at home.  And, many don’t have a home to go to, because they gave up their apartment to do this hike. So, many have chosen to continue their hike until barred from doing so.  

Even though I think there may be a more effective way of preventing the spread of COVID-19 on our nation’s national scenic trails, I have chosen to comply with the decisions that have been made and am pausing my thru hike.  So part one of my hike came to a close in Erwin, TN. I may choose to continue hiking later this month in a state where the trail is still open, or I may choose to make this a SOBO hike, restarting in Maine this coming June.

I face two big challenges here at home.  The first one is to maintain my physical condition.  When I left the trail, I was at the point where my daily mileage had increased to 14-16 miles per day.  I need to walk a lot to maintain that level of fitness, and the snow and ice still covering the Adirondack hiking trails needs to go away.  Also, right before I left the trail, and now that I am home, I noticed an increase in my appetite, the beginning of what is known as trail hunger.  I don’t want to re-gain the weight that I lost so I may have to reduce the amount of potato chips that I’ve been eating since returning home.

I will let you know when and where I get back on the trail.

Answers to trail name questions:

   Miss AT is from Fort Wayne, IN, and was in a beauty pageant 2 days before she started her thru hike.

  Beehive is from Richmond, VA, is recently retired from Comcast and is also a beekeeper.

  Jet is from Colorado Springs and recently retired from the Air Force.

  Lefty has only one arm, which is, you guessed it, his left arm.

  Tablesaw is a carpenter that is frequently accused of sawing wood when sleeping.  You may know him as Ken.