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.”

 

photos

5/18/08--5/22/08 W Virginia into Pennsylvania

5/22/08 20 miles to Boiling Springs, PA

I have not been able to adequately express myself recently—both because of my pitiful hand circulation and because of my frantic hiking pace. For the last week it has been both unseasonably cold and rainy. It seems we are in the last throes of winter, rather than in spring. The terrain is so heavily flooded that in many places the trail is altogether submerged, simply a swamp. Luckily, last night I chose to stay at the Ironmaster’s Mansion, a cavernous home converted from a station on the Underground Railroad to a hostel. In keeping with my typical hiking situation, I was alone—the only guest in an enormous mansion. The innkeeper, Ray, gave me the tour of the home’s secret slave labyrinth, which I was glad to have taken despite my sore knees.  My biggest concern however, was solved by the massive kitchen. For a few days previous, I had survived on Ramen and peanut butter and unfortunately arrived in Pine Grove Furnace Park to find the camp store closed. Like a true hiker and Freegan, though I pillaged all of the leftovers to make surprisingly appetizing meals and some of the best pancakes without the use of any measuring device.

Today I tramped over more rocky Pennsylvania ridges, but broke through the treeline to find a valley of farmland at the end. So tonight I am camped near the riverbank under the bridge of Boiling Springs, the closest to a bum that I have ever felt.  Aside from the hiking world, I am grateful to have bought a portable radio at Trail Days. I heard the Brahms Violin Concerto and the Mendelssohn yesterday. It really brightened things up.

5/20/08  20 miles to Rocky Mountain Shelter

The odd thing about my hands is that I lose all control of them in even the slightest cold conditions. Sometimes I feel almost amused and horrified at the same time, to see how comical my plight is. I don’t really appreciate the power of opposable thumbs until I try the tasks of backpacking without them! I can’t cook without sparking a lighter, I can’t eat without holding a spoon, I can’t write without gripping a pen and I’m virtually disabled from using every other zipper, clip or contraption that I carry. Aside from that, however today was a fun day. I am alone again in a shelter—how unnerving. Tomorrow is the true halfway point.

5/19/08  30.6 miles to Devil’s Racecourse Shelter (northwest of Hagerstown, MD)

Perhaps it is because I feel guilty of my sloth at Trail Days, but also it is the logistical convenience that inspired me to do a thirty-mile day. It certainly wasn’t difficult on a beautiful day like this, especially with all sorts of quaint Civil and Revolutionary War monuments to walk through. Regardless, I can feel the excitement towing me into another state: Pennsylvania tomorrow!  On a lighter note, “Crazy Richard’s” is my new favorite brand of peanut butter, a gift from Steve at the ATC.

5/18/08  8 miles to Ed Garvey Shelter in southern Maryland

Trail Days was both invigorating and relaxing, but I feel that finally I have earned a restful night’s sleep. Today, Steve the director of the ATC (Appalachian Trail Conservancy) was kind enough to drive me back north to Harper’s Ferry, WV.  In transit I gained plenty of valuable knowledge about the mechanism that supports the AT. Things are quiet now and I am sharing this spacious shelter with 4 sisters. Tomorrow maybe I can reach Pennsylvania. 

More photos

    Furniture, Free Hugs and Ishmael ~4/9/08

  Ishmael on the trail.

Trail Days... from Mom

From Mom...  On Thursday 5/15, Michael (Ishmael) got a ride from Harper's Ferry, WV where he had proudly reached the half-way point, to Damascus, VA for 4 days of celebrating at the annual Trail Days Festival.  Trail Days is for current hikers, past hikers and hiker-supporters.  It is 4 days for hikers to see old friends, enjoy partying into wee hours of the night, drink too much and talk about gear. "Gear and beer" I didn't realize this when I planned to drive to Damascus to meet Michael for a few days.  His friends teased him before I arrived.  Evidently, inviting your mom to Trail Days is unheard of!  But I survived and didn't even embarrass him.  I camped out in "tent city" with Michael and his friends, although I chose to stay in the "quiet area." 

I was great to see Michael and the respect and honor he is given by other hikers.  He has a reputation for his excellent hiking skills and speed on the trail.  He is one of the youngest on the trail this summer also.  He has become an independent, thoughtful, guardian of the earth. I now know that barring any physical problems, he will finish this journey successfully!  

5/7-5/12/08 to Front Royal, VA

5/12/08  

I am at the Front Royal Post Office, satisfied with the Chinese Buffet, where I found a hitchhiker from millionaire baby boomers with kind words!

5/11/08  16 miles from Elkwallow Wayside to Tom Floyd wayside  

(5/10 was not worthy of a journal entry, but the 22 miles from Rock Spring Hut to Elkwallow wayside were a small chapter in today’s triumph)

               As much as I have rehearsed over and over in my mind what I would write tonight, still the words slip away when I am given the chance to finally express myself.  However, I can begin with my current situation to shed light on feelings past.  Currently I am sitting in the Tom Floyd Wayside, at 4 PM, listening to the violent intensity of a thunderstorm rage outside.  At 2PM I arrived.  Between 10 AM and 2 PM I was ferociously covering ground, racing through the 10 miles of terrain that separates these last two shelters, literally outrunning the storm.  My pace only quickened as I watched the dense layer of fog descend on the ridge, and felt the bitter chill of westerly winds growing.  And just 3 and a half hours before that, at 6:30 AM, I woke up in my hammock, a curiously early hour for me to start my day, but one that fate had it done to deliver me from the storm.

               Anyway, the greatest triumph of the day was walking out of the Shenandoah National Park, knowing that I had conquered 150 more miles of distance between here and Katahdin.  The ecstasy I feel when seeing the boundary of any section – whether it is a state line, highway, or forest gateway – is a surge of pride that I can hardly imagine the glory of seeing the sign at the Northern end.

               Upon completion, though, I think that the Shenandoahs are hardly worth the visit of a hiker’s feet.  The National Park was actually formed around the highway that meanders North to South, Skyline Drive, and is structured to provide tourists with astonishing vistas and glimpses of wildlife all from the secure convenience of their car seats.  The AT, however, winds along the lower shoulder of the road for most of its distance in the park, shielded from any spectacular sights, but in a comfortable range to constantly hear traffic.  However, several times the trail intersects the asphalt on scenic overlooks, where hikers can have the privilege of begging food from tourists.  Otherwise, it winds its way through a corridor of brush devoid of much wildlife, which has all gone to frolic in traffic or also beg for food.

               Now I am only relieved to be in a shelter, proud to have finished the Shenandoahs, and excited to step onto new ground.  I finally decided I would go to the Trail Days festival next weekend, since I have become somewhat of a hiking rogue at my pace.  It’s been a week since I’ve seen thru-hikers my age. Until more pages, good night.

5/9/08  12 miles to Rock Spring Hut

Today has been a leisurely celebration of my two month achievement on the Appalachian Trail.  For the first time in what seems like weeks I chose a relaxed pace to reach the Big Meadows campstore for lunch, where I encountered Whiplash and Applecore, and carved away the rest of my afternoon in the company of Bill and Jesse of the AsaDachi clan, who were shuttled north to provide trail magic in the company of Jesse’s step-dad.  For once my muscles and mind do not feel fatigued.

5/8/08  21 miles to Bearfence Hut

These 20 miles days are exhausting both my mind and body, and I feel that tomorrow I am due for some true relaxation, maybe only 12 miles. However, I am certainly honing my abilities of concentration, and can now easily walk 9 miles in a meditative state.

I stopped at the Lewis Mountain Campground store to resupply and indulge, and I am grateful all these wayside points exist in the Shenandoahs. Also, I did not wear socks today and it was great success.

5/7/08  25 miles to Pinefield Shelter

Reporting for yesterday is practically unnecessary and would be both full and pretentious, since the hiking kind of sucked.  I walked 26 miles from Rock’s Gap to Calf Mountain Shelter, on bleak Rocky terrain devoid of company.  But in order to feel the sweet sensation of hiking I have to swallow the bitter days as well.  I did enjoy staying at the Dutch Haus, which was the closest feeling to home I have had.

Today I intended to take an easy day to Blackrock shelter, until the Park Service intervened.  After walking 13 miles in arid heat without finding water, the Park Rangers shuttled me around the shelter where I could have found both rest and hydration. Since there was a controlled burn in place they insisted on shuttling me for my safety. “Do I have a choice?”  “No,” the Ranger replied. “Is the Loft Mountain Campstore (where I intended to resupply) open?”  “Not yet.”  “Is there water where you’re taking me?”  “No, but there is about a mile away,” he replied in an aloof, not-my-problem tone as he drove away.  The Park Ranger in the parking lot greeted me with a cordial “I hope you have a poncho for tonight.”

Foolish government agents, they have underestimated the thru-hiker’s power!