6/12-6/16/08 to Dalton, Mass

6/16/08  17 miles to Kay Wood Shelter, 3 more to Dalton, Mass.

The day is not yet done, but the monstrous thunderstorm that has overtaken the skies provided a good impetus to rest awhile at this convenient shelter. Maybe it was the coffee and early start I had this morning, but thus far time has really slipped away in effortless labor. Perhaps this cool weather is making things so easy or perhaps I’m a crazy child of nature!

6/15/08 28 miles to Upper Goose Pond Cabin (Berkshire county, Massachusetts)

What a change in fortune this day has been. After waking up at 4:00am from my fitful greenhouse shelter sleep, I quickly scrambled into the world of new obstacles and rewards. Before noon I had already completed 12 miles and felt confident in the prospect of being here tonight. However, Massachusetts has certainly doled out its punishment with insects. The mosquitoes in this region are so bad that I can only hope to outrun and outmaneuver them as my chance for not being devoured. Hiking has become frantic—I cannot stop to pee, drink or even adjust my load without being swarmed!  My strategy has been reaching each road crossing in an unbroken movement, because the insects cannot reach me there. By the end of the day I was saturated with sweat, DEET, Goldbond powder and bug carcasses as well as past-exhaustion.

But reaching this cabin, a free service of the Massachusetts AMC (Appalachian Mountain Club) has restored all efforts. New company—Pickle and Garlic—and old friends, Longstep and Sleepwallker—have certainly restored most of my energy. I felt adventurous to take a moonlight swim in Goose Pond and now I can sleep easily with the luxury of screened windows.  On to Dalton, MA tomorrow.  

6/14/08  16.8 miles  Disarrayed empty greenhouse by the CornCrib Farmstand on the side of Route 7 (near Sheffield, MA)

Truly this is the most fitting image of a bum I have yet attained. I practically outran a lurching thunderstorm to make it here, only to find the farmer’s market closed. But tired after nearly 17 miles of rigorous climbing and battling families of mosquitoes, in addition to seeing a black horizon ready to storm, I realized this would be home for the night. 

6/13/08  18.1 miles to Brassie Brook Lean-to (Northwest corner of Connecticut)

No complaints for this tranquil day. I was blessed with both moderate terrain and moderate weather. I wish I could resolve this entry with more clearance, but it has to be abrupt or the mosquitoes will eat me. 

6/12/08  19.5 miles to Sharon Mountain Campsite

Once again I have neglected my precious inner voice but fortunately this time it was not a product of stress, but leisure. In Kent, Connecticut, I stayed with my friend Jillian Sawyer and her family. In fact, I stayed two nights, accepting their wonderful hospitality and enticing company. The image that best depicts my voyage back to society is navigating White Plains, NY at the direction of Herman Furman, Jill’s blind friend, to recover his guitar from a music shop.  It truly cannot earn its traumatic justice in my journal alone, because it was such an irreplaceable journey. Herman is a very brave man and Jill is and has always been a mystic spirit.

To bring the final atonement to the universe, the heat wave finally expired, in one final violent storm. Only the two tornados I have lived through could surpass this storm in intensity. But after finishing its course, the fireflies came out to dance again, to let us know that everything is fine. 

Second to last

Goodbye green mountains, goodbye relentless hills and wicked thunderstorms. Today is the threshold of a great new white horizon, today is my day crossing the free state. 

5/29-6/10/08 to Kent, Connecticut

Posted by Mom from Michael's (Ishmael) handwritten journal entries mailed home:

6/10/08  17 miles to Kent, Connecticut

I will use this lull in activity to repay my cheated journal. Unfortunately if has been so stuffy and oppressively hot recently that life has been like muffins in an oven—a very humid oven rampant with insects.  Those muffins are also required to climb an average of 18 miles of hills everyday. As a muffin, I know my body is rapidly adapting, because I am sweating and drinking more than ever before. On the brighter side of life, I am now a mile away from Kent, where hopefully I can visit my friend, Jillian Sawyer.

6/8/08  19.5 miles RPH Shelter (across the Hudson River, NY)

This has been another day subject to the weather. Even before sunrise I felt the oppressive heat descending on me. However I was grateful to slaughter many miles before noon, so I could bathe in the tourist paradise at Canopus Lack. Highlighs of the afternoon include seeing a rattlesnake threaten me closer than three feet and walking through a refreshing thunderstorm. The peaceful, conclusion happened when Young and Dumb, ’07 Northbound hikers left hordes of trail magic at the shelter. Life is nice.

6/7/08 15.6 miles to Graymoor Spiritual Center (near Peekskill, New York)

Some days are doomed from the daybreak like when I walked outside this morning and felt the sweltering heat like the Everglades. Even walking downhill I was coated in a film of sweat, so going up the steep rocks of Bear Mountain practically dehydrated me altogether. But aside from the heat, there was something I encountered today that was completely unexpected. No one told me that Bear Mountain State Park was the relocated ethnic quarters of Brooklyn. The trail meandered right through flocks of every religion and ethnicity possible in the woods. There were times when I practically had to compete with the line for the swimming pool to walk on the AT.  Most of the people, I assume had no idead the significance of this path. The roles instantly changed: they were the invaders to my land, and I was the native. 

6/6/08 19.6 miles  William Brien Shelter (28 miles into New York)

The Empire State has poised its challenges and revealed its marvels ever since the southern boundary. It feels as though I’ve instantly been shrunk to hobbit size, running through a rampant forest, alive and powerful. The terrain is awesome but daunting, towering over us at every angle. With today’s rugged hiking, Start, Longstep, Sleepwalker, Railroad King and I all made the pilgrimage to Bellvale Creamery for homemade ice cream.  Today we were rewarded with trail magic from Daddy-O, the most inspiring and inspired trail angel.

6/3/08  18 miles to Secret Shelter

Unfortunately, I have been curt and negligent about recording my thoughts recently, but these days I truly have faced fatigue powerful enough to suppress my thoughts. Feelings aside, I had a refreshing stay at the Delaware Water Gap Hostel and have since been hiking with Starfi, a chipper guy connected both to the word of god and to the grooviness of being outdoors. The trail in New Jersey certainly escapes the stereotypical image of the Garden State. I have yet to see a sooty wasteland, and in fact, it’s quite beautiful here. Unfortunately the insects are voracious. I hear the mosquito is New Jersey’s State Bird! 

6/1/08  21 miles Gren Anderson Shelter   Sussex, New Jersey

Very fatigued, both mentally and physically!  Neither crossing the Pennsylvania border into New Jersey nor receiving the hospitality of the Delaware Water Gap Church Hostel raised my strength. New Jersey is surprisingly beautiful but I will need more to brighten my spirits. I’m seriously considering a zero mile day in Vernon, NJ. 

            Enlarge your perspective. Be patient, be real.

5/30/08  21 miles around Palmerton, PA

Today has been a peculiar day, one whose twists I can only attribute to the omnipotent grip of fate. This morning, after braving the sweltering heat and rocky passages, I parted with Start and the Tennessee Twins to hitch into Palmerton—a difficult task but with its rewards. After soliciting the help of local launderers to guard my property, I devoured a monstrous calzone and left town with another lucky hitch, satisfied with clean clothes and calories. Yet I could not have picked a more tortuous day to climb the zinc mine from Lehigh Gap. The ascent is practically a mile of treeless, shadeless boulders on steep rocks.  I had only the zinc factories to thank, and the oppressive cloudless sun to appreciate for walking across the oven. After 10 miles without a water source, I luckily stumbled on Delps Spring, where I drank a liter on site. After that, I was steeled to reach the next shelter which plunged me into a rocky night hike. However, about three miles inward, I ran into a man walking his dog, oddly at 9pm, who invited me to stay at this house where he frequently hosts hikers in the garage.  Sure enough, his service is listed in the AT Guidebook, so I stepped over my suspicions and set up here at his garage. He is certainly astray in his wilderness views: an avid slackpacker, a gear buff, an Earl Schaffer servant. Hopefully I can reach Delaware Water Gap tomorrow night.

Ready for fresh Cheese

Here I am, whittling away another piece of infinitessimal time at the Dalton Public Library. The Vermont border is just North of here, and I am excited to step into the savage Northern terrain. Today I am taking a day off; however, because even hikers have to heal after these intense summer days and endless rocky peaks.

Peace After the Storm

Peace was restored to the galaxy this Tuesday after the wave of heat that has plagued the Northeast swept over in a final showdown. I am grateful for my friend Jillian Sawyer's hospitality, who let me stay with her in Kent, CT, and watch the onslaught from behind windows. Many trees are down and looks like warfare hit the forests, but luckily I was being pampered with time off while my friends suffered. Now I am in Salisbury, CT, close to finishing one more state!

photos from ?Pennsylvania

Thunderstorming through the States

The mosquito is the state bird of New Jersey

5/23-5/29/08 still in Pennsylvania

5/29/08   26.5 miles to Bake Oven Knob Shelter

Today I bruised my feet on some relentlessly rocky terrain. I earned my rest here at the Bake Oven lounge now that I found Philadelphia’s jazz station on my radio.  Instantly I banished the eerie aura of this tiny antique shelter and found some company with the captains of swing. My new friends from today include Start and the Tennessee Twins: Pseudo and Two Shoes.  Aha!  They just arrived.

5/28/08  6 miles to Windsor Furnace Shelter

It’s funny what a fickle thing fortune can be. Immediately after stepping into Port Clinton last night, I was offered a ride into the shopping center at Hamburg, PA, saving me a desolate highway walk. I was even driven back by my trail angel, Ana May, to the Pavilion, a spacious shelter and park in town that allows free camping. There I met two groovy South-bounders, Kofia and Halfstride. I consumed a whole range of good dairy products and drifted to sleep gently in my hammock.  This morning however, Ana May wasn’t home. The Port Clinton Hotel, which offers showers, didn’t open until 11am and only the local outfitter offered a ride to Hamburg—for $20—too steep for a 2-mile drive.

But instantly again my luck shifted… the Cabela’s shuttle picked me up from the street, almost collided with my trail angel friend, Ana May.  She offered me her phone later in the afternoon. Wow, what a change in fate. Hopefully I can clean my moldy laundry in Palmerton to complete my blessings.

5/26/08  17.8 miles to 501 Shelter, near Pine Grove, PA

My relationship with Pennsylvania has been an odd and fickle one. Most of today’s hiking was on gentle, beautiful ridges, lined with cushioned dirt. Yet there are tracts that appear spontaneously, littered with towering, jagged rocks. Perhaps someone drove the granite truck up the mountain for an accidental delivery.  Though I have neglected to include it recently, everyday I have seen a sprightly weathered couple on the trail consistently for the last week—hiking in the opposite direction. After our first encounter I began to wonder how I could pass south-bounders repeatedly. After we began meeting consistently about noontime I had the opportunity to learn that they, Perry and Melinda, thruhiked in ’86 and have since been rambling around scenic trails. Sadly today was my last day meeting them, for they are returning home to Oregon to resume an easy life.

Anyway, tonight I am at the legendary 501 Shelter, a pilgrimage for thru-hikers for its proximity to an Italian restaurant that actually delivers here.  Sadly, it is Memorial Day and the delivery is unavailable. Chris and Andrew, the flip-floppers, are here to share my disappointment. I compensated simply by eating two dinners tonight.

5/25/08  17.8 miles Rausch Gap Shelter 

I feel surprisingly fatigues after just easy terrain and rolling ridges today. I can only attribute the effect to either Lyme Disease, which I don’t have or to a caloric deficit, which I do have. I have regretted passing by the half-gallon ice cream challenge recently. In Port Clinton, I will definitely conquer the half-gallon, maybe even twice!

5/24/08 15.4 miles to Peters Mountain Shelter

I am slowly breaking away from the gravity of towns, evident from my swift passage through Duncannon, PA. I stopped at the Doyle Hotel, where I was able to completely resupply by the generosity of Pat and Vicky, the landowners. The building itself is very impressive, the centerpiece of the pioneer atmosphere in Duncannon. I only spent $2 in the city, but I regret not buying a pint of ice cream now that I’m deep in the woods. Since it is Memorial Day Weekend, I am sharing the shelter with several section-hikers, as well as two flip-floppers, Andrew and Matt, who are coincidentally from Winston-Salem. Hunger is currently my dominating instinct.

5/23/08  22 miles to Cove Mountain Shelter

A day that began lightheartedly in the quaint city of Boiling Springs was quickly consumed by the lovely vortex of the woods.  After waiting for my mail and eating a quart of yogurt, I was not able to start hiking until 11:00am. The terrain of the Cumberland Valley is gentle and placid farmland, which makes for a deceptive challenge. Though it is flat, the ground is in constant exposure to the sun’s oppressive rays, which easily tired me. But only after reentering the ridgeline did I feel the real haunting pulse of the wilderness. It was the inexplicable maddening drive that led me past the company of the first shelter to the uncertainty of the next, which convinced me how far into this journey I am.

Here is what I wrote in the shelter register tonight: “After three nights alone a man really has a better glimpse into the depths of his soul. Once an endeavor has ceased to be a challenge, and after it has culminated with triumph, it becomes an obsession—a maddening gravity that draws us from our minds. Just like Chris McCandless (of Into the Wild fame) we must determine how deep into the woods we can go. Just like Narcissus, we must determine how close to the water we can stand. And just like Ahab, we must know how far into lonely waters we can sail before we lose sight of our soul and our quest consumes us.”