I made it past week one. My clothes smell pretty rank but it's a small price to pay for all these beautiful mountains.
Owen and I hiked with Mad Patter for three days, and we already miss him. It's amazing to me how fast you can bond with someone who is struggling through and loving the same things you are. He's trying to get to Maine, so he's pulled ahead of us, but I suspect I'll hike with him again before I'm done. Right now we're moving at the same pace as a family of 6, dubbed the Care Bear family. They did a whopping 18 miles just in one day. I keep reading about other hikers in the shelter logs who are a day or two ahead of us. Part of me wants to have the trail to myself, and part of me wants to meet whoever I can. Now that memorial day is over the weekend hikers have thinned out and we've got a bit more peace in the woods.
I don't have a trail name yet, though Owen and Mad Patter have been trying. For some reason they wanted to call me Girly Q, or Lavendar Farts, or even Sock Sniffer (I have a fascination with how horrible my socks smell... somehow they make it up to my nose at the end of the day. It's always bad.) Thankfully none of their names for me have stuck.
Owen and I have been coming up with a rap for y'all. It's not ready yet, but I discovered a video setting on my camera, so I suspect you'll be seeing it. We also have stupid sayings we come up with while we're walking, like "serious miles, serious smiles," or "underwear free since day three." He's a good hiking partner. We like singing the blues and some soul. I often find myself laughing as I struggle up an incline. Keeps the bears away.
We're definitely getting into a good routine. Already I get tired when its dark and wake up after the sun's up for a bit, usually 7:30. It's great that I don't need an alarm and my body knows exactly what to do. In general, its a lot easier to take care of myself out here.
I had a few pictures I was going to share, but the computer's giving me trouble. My internet time is about to run out anyway, and the girl next to me is giving me dirty looks. I must smell worse than I think.
I'm off to resupply my food and send a few postcards. I'm looking forward to buying some greek yogurt, raspberries, and a head of lettuce for lunch. Once we're done in town we'll do another 4 miles on the trail today. Then tomorrow we'll make it to our first state border!
Thanks for all your comments. It was awesome hearing from you guys.
I'll be in town again in about 5 days.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Blisters and rain and bear hangs
We drove up a winding, one-lane Forest Service road for half hour to an hour, curving along a mountain and trying not to look over the edge. The road was dirt and gravel, and at times it seemed the car didn't want to climb as much as we were making it. Tami said, "this proves how much we love you," and immediately the tires spun and the engine slowed. Dad tried to move again up the steep incline but the tires just spun, the car rolled back a little, and the oil and battery lights went on. The car started to smell. He tried again. We sat in panicked silence.
I was grateful to see a bold black plus painted on the front of an army truck that came bumbling down the road toward us. They checked the engine of our car, but really we just needed to get into a different position so all four of our tires could grip the road. We continued to the top of the mountain and finally found our first white blaze of the AT.
The first day went well. I've been so overstimulated in the past few months that it was hard to register what I was doing. The trail was beautiful and I was overly excited and sometimes thinking, wait, what am I doing? We purified water we got from a stream by a shelter and decided to keep moving. Our initial goal was to take it easy and do about 8 miles a day, but we decided to move farther before making camp.
In order for bears to not "lick your toes while you're sleeping," as fellow hiker Catfish says, hikers set up a bear hang. All of our food was hoisted up onto a branch with a rope that we then tied to the base of the tree. That was the most frustrating part of the day for me. I had expected that setting a line for a bear hang would come easy, as it's similar to setting a climbing line for arborist work, which I did at school. Then I remember that I never was good at setting lines. Rain spattered on us just as I finished tying the knot around the tree, and Owen and I ran toward our hammocks. "See you tomorrow!" he yelled.
I dove in my hammock and squirmed around until I was in a semi-comfortable position and listened to the rain beat on my rain fly. I looked at my watch. It was only 6:30. Suddenly I felt uneasy. What was I going to do for the next three hours? I had paper and pen, but somehow three hours seemed like an enormous amount of time. I had no obligations, no deadlines, no papers to write. I had the basics: I was full, hydrated, well rested, and dry. Now what? Suddenly I felt anxious and lonely, sitting in my hammock with nothing to do but think and wait as the rain continued.
Day two we woke up after getting a solid ten hours of sleep, made oatmeal, and continued on. We got our first view overlooking the mountains. We met up with Mad Patter and hiked with him for most of the day. We were all looking forward to our next water source, which my trail guide said was about four miles ahead. Our bottles were getting low and for the first time I was worried about having enough water. We turned a corner and where the trail crossed a Forest Service road was a 400-gallon army tank that said POTABLE WATER. This was the second time in two days I was happy to see camo. We yelled, but no one was around, so we filled our bottles and happily continued hiking. (Apparently the army trains near one of the shelters we had passed. It explains the helicopters we heard the first night.)
We stopped at the creek. I had a fabulous lunch of tuna and cheese on bagels topped with raisins. Everything tastes good. Again we decided to push on past our mileage and shelter goal so we could get into town early the next day. With a few miles to go, it started raining. I pulled on my jacket and trusted that the plastic bags in my pack would keep everything dry, but when it poured and continued pouring, I had my doubts. Owen went on ahead of me, Mad Patter fell back. Occasionally I'd see a swatch of red or blue in the trees, and then I didn't see either of them for at least a half hour. Rivulets of water raced down the trail and puddles formed in flat spots. Soon the entire trail was filled with rushing water. My shorts and boots soaked through. I didn't care that I was wet; it was warm enough that I wasn't cold. But if my extra pair of clothes and sleeping bag were soaked, I was in for a very cold night. At least I had my rain fly I could use as a tarp. I decided there was nothing I could do and splashed through puddles and enjoyed the feel of the water on my dirty skin. After an hour of telling my feet to move, the rain slowed. I looked in my bag and found my stuff was dry. Eventually we met up at the gap and danced in the street when we realized we had a ride to a hotel in town.
Oh, the luxury of a cheap hotel. We dove in the pool after checking in. We had towels! We ate at a Mexican restaurant and I got a chicken and bacon quesadilla with bell peppers and chipotle ranch and lettuce. I said to Owen, "this is the best thing I've ever eaten." Haahaha. We've only been hiking for two days.
So far I've only got a few blisters and my calves are less sore after sleep. Today we're going to hit the trail and climb the highest peak in the state and then take a fairly easy day after that. We'll probably be in town again on Tuesday or Wednesday. After that I think we'll go into town about once a week to resupply our food.
I'm anxious to get back. It's beautiful out there.
I was grateful to see a bold black plus painted on the front of an army truck that came bumbling down the road toward us. They checked the engine of our car, but really we just needed to get into a different position so all four of our tires could grip the road. We continued to the top of the mountain and finally found our first white blaze of the AT.
The first day went well. I've been so overstimulated in the past few months that it was hard to register what I was doing. The trail was beautiful and I was overly excited and sometimes thinking, wait, what am I doing? We purified water we got from a stream by a shelter and decided to keep moving. Our initial goal was to take it easy and do about 8 miles a day, but we decided to move farther before making camp.
In order for bears to not "lick your toes while you're sleeping," as fellow hiker Catfish says, hikers set up a bear hang. All of our food was hoisted up onto a branch with a rope that we then tied to the base of the tree. That was the most frustrating part of the day for me. I had expected that setting a line for a bear hang would come easy, as it's similar to setting a climbing line for arborist work, which I did at school. Then I remember that I never was good at setting lines. Rain spattered on us just as I finished tying the knot around the tree, and Owen and I ran toward our hammocks. "See you tomorrow!" he yelled.
I dove in my hammock and squirmed around until I was in a semi-comfortable position and listened to the rain beat on my rain fly. I looked at my watch. It was only 6:30. Suddenly I felt uneasy. What was I going to do for the next three hours? I had paper and pen, but somehow three hours seemed like an enormous amount of time. I had no obligations, no deadlines, no papers to write. I had the basics: I was full, hydrated, well rested, and dry. Now what? Suddenly I felt anxious and lonely, sitting in my hammock with nothing to do but think and wait as the rain continued.
Day two we woke up after getting a solid ten hours of sleep, made oatmeal, and continued on. We got our first view overlooking the mountains. We met up with Mad Patter and hiked with him for most of the day. We were all looking forward to our next water source, which my trail guide said was about four miles ahead. Our bottles were getting low and for the first time I was worried about having enough water. We turned a corner and where the trail crossed a Forest Service road was a 400-gallon army tank that said POTABLE WATER. This was the second time in two days I was happy to see camo. We yelled, but no one was around, so we filled our bottles and happily continued hiking. (Apparently the army trains near one of the shelters we had passed. It explains the helicopters we heard the first night.)
We stopped at the creek. I had a fabulous lunch of tuna and cheese on bagels topped with raisins. Everything tastes good. Again we decided to push on past our mileage and shelter goal so we could get into town early the next day. With a few miles to go, it started raining. I pulled on my jacket and trusted that the plastic bags in my pack would keep everything dry, but when it poured and continued pouring, I had my doubts. Owen went on ahead of me, Mad Patter fell back. Occasionally I'd see a swatch of red or blue in the trees, and then I didn't see either of them for at least a half hour. Rivulets of water raced down the trail and puddles formed in flat spots. Soon the entire trail was filled with rushing water. My shorts and boots soaked through. I didn't care that I was wet; it was warm enough that I wasn't cold. But if my extra pair of clothes and sleeping bag were soaked, I was in for a very cold night. At least I had my rain fly I could use as a tarp. I decided there was nothing I could do and splashed through puddles and enjoyed the feel of the water on my dirty skin. After an hour of telling my feet to move, the rain slowed. I looked in my bag and found my stuff was dry. Eventually we met up at the gap and danced in the street when we realized we had a ride to a hotel in town.
Oh, the luxury of a cheap hotel. We dove in the pool after checking in. We had towels! We ate at a Mexican restaurant and I got a chicken and bacon quesadilla with bell peppers and chipotle ranch and lettuce. I said to Owen, "this is the best thing I've ever eaten." Haahaha. We've only been hiking for two days.
So far I've only got a few blisters and my calves are less sore after sleep. Today we're going to hit the trail and climb the highest peak in the state and then take a fairly easy day after that. We'll probably be in town again on Tuesday or Wednesday. After that I think we'll go into town about once a week to resupply our food.
I'm anxious to get back. It's beautiful out there.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Leaving today
Yesterday I spent the day with my family at my brother's house near the trail. Owen and I will be walking in about two hours!
Look for a post from me in about a week.
Look for a post from me in about a week.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Things I will miss
As I pack my bag with Ramen, peanut butter, and instant mashed potatoes, I'm appreciating the food I'll probably crave in a week or two:
Gladfelter's chicken ceasar pitas. Biscuits and Warren Wilson sausage with gravy. Orzo and feta.
Bell peppers, cucumbers and green beans.
Grapefruit, strawberries, and raspberries.
Meals that look like this:
We went to Pisgah Inn yesterday for my sister's birthday and had fantastic food as we looked through huge glass windows at the Blue Ridge. I ordered the roasted beet salad, which came with apples, strawberries, pecans, goat cheese, fennel, and balsamic dressing. Love, love, loved it.
I think I'll also miss my routine (before I find a new one), my bed, and my people. Mostly the people.
On the other hand, I'm looking forward to getting away from cars, cement, Hulu, deadlines, and alarm clocks. I'm very happy to leave those behind.
Two days!
Gladfelter's chicken ceasar pitas. Biscuits and Warren Wilson sausage with gravy. Orzo and feta.
Bell peppers, cucumbers and green beans.
Grapefruit, strawberries, and raspberries.
Meals that look like this:
We went to Pisgah Inn yesterday for my sister's birthday and had fantastic food as we looked through huge glass windows at the Blue Ridge. I ordered the roasted beet salad, which came with apples, strawberries, pecans, goat cheese, fennel, and balsamic dressing. Love, love, loved it.
I think I'll also miss my routine (before I find a new one), my bed, and my people. Mostly the people.
On the other hand, I'm looking forward to getting away from cars, cement, Hulu, deadlines, and alarm clocks. I'm very happy to leave those behind.
Two days!
Friday, May 18, 2012
Anticipation
During the past six weeks I've been preparing.
I've prepared logistically, pulling together supplies, rides, and food lists.
I've prepared physically, increasing my cardio, core, and strength workouts. I've been hiking. I've strengthened my knees and traded a few pounds of fat for muscle.
I've prepared mentally, thinking through best and worst case scenarios, reading books, talking to hikers, and thinking about my own goals and reasons for doing the trail. I've been telling myself it's okay if I need to stop hiking before getting to my goal state. I've been trying to imagine loneliness and being okay with that. I have a tendancy to get lonely easily and I know that even when I'm hiking with people, my relationships with folks at home will have to take on a new form. I'll only be able to contact them when I'm in town, which will be about once a week. That makes me more nervous than bears or snakes or strangers ever have.
Maybe I could have done more. Sometimes I think I won't be ready. But I don't have any more prep to do, just waiting. Preparing feels better than waiting. In three days, I'll be done anticipating, preparing, waiting. Maybe then it will sink in that I'm doing it. Or maybe it will take a few weeks in the mountains to realize I'm actually hiking the Appalachian Trail.
At this point there's nothing left but to do it.
I've prepared logistically, pulling together supplies, rides, and food lists.
I've prepared physically, increasing my cardio, core, and strength workouts. I've been hiking. I've strengthened my knees and traded a few pounds of fat for muscle.
I've prepared mentally, thinking through best and worst case scenarios, reading books, talking to hikers, and thinking about my own goals and reasons for doing the trail. I've been telling myself it's okay if I need to stop hiking before getting to my goal state. I've been trying to imagine loneliness and being okay with that. I have a tendancy to get lonely easily and I know that even when I'm hiking with people, my relationships with folks at home will have to take on a new form. I'll only be able to contact them when I'm in town, which will be about once a week. That makes me more nervous than bears or snakes or strangers ever have.
Maybe I could have done more. Sometimes I think I won't be ready. But I don't have any more prep to do, just waiting. Preparing feels better than waiting. In three days, I'll be done anticipating, preparing, waiting. Maybe then it will sink in that I'm doing it. Or maybe it will take a few weeks in the mountains to realize I'm actually hiking the Appalachian Trail.
At this point there's nothing left but to do it.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
I'm doing it!
I'm finally doing it.
In less than a week I'll be hiking the AT.
The trail stretches from Georgia to Maine, is over 2000 miles long and takes an average of six months to complete. My goal is to do at least 2 months, at most 4. I'd like to hit 1000 miles. I'll be starting in the south and hiking until my body, bugs, or snow send me home. Until then I'll post here for any of y'all who want to read about my adventures.
Send me your address if you'd like a letter or postcard!
In less than a week I'll be hiking the AT.
The trail stretches from Georgia to Maine, is over 2000 miles long and takes an average of six months to complete. My goal is to do at least 2 months, at most 4. I'd like to hit 1000 miles. I'll be starting in the south and hiking until my body, bugs, or snow send me home. Until then I'll post here for any of y'all who want to read about my adventures.
Send me your address if you'd like a letter or postcard!
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