Thoughts from home

Coming home has been a tougher adjustment than I thought it would be. Initially I had thought that it would be easy, since I’m only home for a short time, but there’s a lot about living in the suburbs that is vastly different from the trail.

For starters, the noise. I’m thankful that I can sleep at night, but I’ve been needing to find the balance between complete lack of natural noise (I.e. Owls, frogs, coyotes) and too much noise. It gets worse during the day when I’m suddenly around cars and swarms of people (driving is the worst because I get super anxious suddenly being crowded by big trucks and cars). It’s weird because I’m totally craving a trip to Fenway, but I know that right now I wouldn’t be happy being there, as I’d be to on edge from the crowds and sounds. 

Next, politics. Politics on the trail basically split you into two camps, you either believe in and practice LNT principles, or you disregard them and are kind of a butt head. Sure, I’ve had talks about the actual political landscape of the US right now, but I think most people tend to steer away from these types of conversations. But let me just say this. For two and a half months I’ve been either digging cat holes or sharing privies with men and women. So this whole bathroom debate? I mean, we are all just happy to have something that resembles a bathroom (minus the privacy and running water). I know this whole debate and legislation is not really about bathrooms, but it does kind of put that whole snafu into perspective. 

Okay so now that’s out of the way, let’s talk about trash. I’ve officially become that person that picks up trash as they walk around & I did that today at my brother’s track meet. It makes me crazy angry to see an empty trash can 20 feet away from a crushed can or take out bag. If you’re reading this, please help me out & pick up random trash that you see. My hope is that another person will see you & it will inspire them to continue the action and so on. In fact, my plan tomorrow is to go to the state park in my town & do a trash clean up. 

Moving on- tomorrow I have a doctor appointment to get my knees and hips checked out. I’ve been having pain that I’m worried might be sciatic nerve pain, so hopefully I can talk to her and figure out an action plan so that I can keep hiking.

So, there’s what’s been on my mind. If you’d like to comment with any trail related questions for me to answer, that would be fantastic!! 🙂 

Spring Break

So, remember everything I just wrote in that last post? Well please read this knowing that I still stand by what I said, and that I’m still not done with this trail.

I am going home for a week. There you go, there is the big news that is hard to share publicly, because even though I am confident and happy with this decision, I know others who might be less than thrilled. Though, to be fair, if you’re a supporter of mine, that includes supporting my non-linear life and decisions, right?

So why am I leaving the trail for this trail-cation? I’m exhausted. I mean that on every level, my body and my brain are drained. And while usually a zero day or two would fix that, and I’d be craving to be back in the mountains, this time that was not the case. I DID hike 7.5 miles yesterday, all while fighting my body. It was incredibly frustrating, as I had stretched and taken ibuprofen that morning.

I don’t want my body to be dependent on high doses of pain medicine to be able to do this trip. I want to be able to hit the trail, and be confident in every step. I need to do the rest of this trail in a way that works and makes sense for my health and safety, and just in a way that makes sense to me. (I’ll be checking in with my doctor while I’m home).

Essentially I’m coming home so I can let my guard down. I realized yesterday that I have not been able to relax since starting the trail. Even in towns or hotels, I’d always be worried about someone stealing my things, or running around trying to do laundry or any other number of things. My mind has had very few chances to be at ease, but now that I’m home, I feel like a wave of relief has washed over me. I’m receiving the satisfaction I needed from feeling closeness again, in that, I’m around people that I know love and care for me (and who are also supporting my choice), and it feels greater than I would’ve imagined. Plus, I get to see my dog, so that’s phenomenal. 

So here I am again, reminding myself that I am a very non-linear person (which is still difficult at times to accept). Like the trail, my course in life has zigs and zags as well as the unexpected uphill or steep downhill. Being home for this week is what makes the most sense to me, and I hope that in the next few days I will wake up rested and itching to hit the trail again.

For now I will be kicking back (or sleeping, probably sleeping), working out/walking everywhere to keep my trail legs how they are, and trying to adjust to a temporary stay in civilization (so many noises and things I’ve forgotten about).

It’s all about this process, my process just seems to resemble a Chutes & Ladders game.

Reboot

These last few days have been a roller coaster. My dad came to visit which was amazing, but also unfortunately coincided with my severe dehydration and exhaustion. 

So mix all of these things together and what do you get? An emotional breakdown (aka me crying in a cow field, with cows) and a phone call urging him to come back and get me (which he did).

We spent another glorious day together, and all in my mind I had the question “why the hell am I still doing this?” Well the answer I suppose, is because I’m not done yet (insert Frost quote about miles to go and whatnot).

And here comes the reboot. 

I’ve jumped ahead on the trail a bit, which is bittersweet when I consider that I’m 3 weeks away from Harper’s Ferry, but now also miles ahead of any hikers I knew. It’s for the best, my body and my mind needed the time off, and moving ahead a bit hopefully will help me feel recharged and help me keep going. 

It’s all going to be okay. I’m hopeful that I’ll get to Harper’s Ferry and decide to keep going. I’m happier now that I’ve ugly cried all of the stress and strain from nearly 3 months living on a trail out of my body, and now that I’ve gotten to spend some much needed quality time with my dad. 

Now that I’ve hit that emotional wall, it’s time to tear it down and keep going. Small progress is still progress, and I’m still tougher than anything this trail can throw my way 

Pure trash.

This here is a post about trash. 

Today I woke up at the shelter with the usual crowd of thru-hikers and people who have been in the woods for longer than we probably should be. Well, a group of “Marines” were tenting at a campsite close by, and hadn’t been a problem (although they were kind of awkward and didn’t know what thru-hiking was).

So we were sitting around the campfire eating breakfast when two of these “Marines” made their way up to the privy and disrupted Ultraviolet as she was using said privy. Apparently they had asked her where the trash can was, and if you know privies or staying at shelters, you know that they urge you to pack out your trash, instead of burning it, littering, or putting it in the privy.

(Just think about the guy who has to rake through human waste to fish out trash, do that guy a favor and don’t put trash in the privy).

ANYWAYS. These “Marines” proceeded to walk down the blue blazed trail to the water source. About 5 minutes later they reemerge & are trash-free. Well this is when Shaggy and I both agreed that these two needed to be confronted. Thankfully Shaggy is super loud and so that works well with confrontation (think Andy Samberg on “Parks and Rec”…or just in general), and he just goes “HEY GUYS. WHERE’D THAT TRASH GO?”

The two “Marines” responded by saying that they burnt it (which was clearly a lie, because we would’ve smelled it, and also, how’d you start a fire that fast?) turns out they had dumped their trash AT THE FREAKING WATER SOURCE.

Shaggy continued on to call them out on their BS, and told them that they needed to pack out their trash because “it’s the right thing to do, buddy”. He also made a point that us thru-hikers often have to carry our trash for like, 20-80 miles, and that these “Marines” could probably handle carrying trash. Being the nice guy he is, Shaggy even offered to take their trash for them. The good news here is that these two “Marines” went back and got their trash, and we continued to enjoy our breakfast.

The bad news? Upon hiking out, we found their vans & they were a part of the Single Marine program, which works to serve the Marine community. This sucks because I hope that not all of these groups are as lenient with their LNT practices as this one was.

What sucks even more? Today I logged on to Facebook & saw a man ranting about how millennials are to blame for all of the trash and graffiti on the trail. Specifically this man blamed women for the toilet paper being left everywhere on the trail. It’s frustrating because I try my best to follow LNT principles, and I know a good amount of hikers my age who also do. In fact, I’ve seen more “old school” or older hikers be the ones who burn their trash, or have not so great LNT practices. Am I going to say that all older hikers are to blame? No, because that’s not a statement I can prove, all I will say is that if you head out on any trail, please just clean up after yourself.

Also don’t be afraid to call people out on their crap. If you don’t, they’ll continue to ruin the woods & put the animals and hikers in said woods at risk. 

Just last week these two guys had their tents torn through by two bears at a shelter, bears who will probably have to be euthanized or relocated (again) just for being bears. It’s not their fault that their instinct is to seek out food. 

Be responsible, own your shiz, and do your part. 

Note: I’ve placed “Marines” in quotations as these men did not meet the standards and image of being a Marine that I’ve come to expect. I have hiked with many Marines, and enjoy their company while also respecting and thanking the work that they do. I have however placed an email to this organization to hopefully result in better LNT and trail etiquette. 

500 miles (for real!)

Two days ago I hit the actual 500 mile mark. I celebrated this moment by sitting with some wild ponies for over an hour & just being in their world. 

It almost felt like a religious experience or that I was in a different world. I’m thankful that I’ve had some amazing experiences in my life, and that I can liken sitting with the ponies, to the same overwhelmed feeling that I had when walking through Notre Dame in France. 

I really was in their world. They were just grazing and talking to each other (yes I did whinny at them, and yes I did giggle with excitement when they whinnied back). I even had the stallion in the group come up to me & outstretch his nose into my hand, and then determine that I was okay. There were some foals (and some clearly expecting mamas) and I honestly could’ve lived there forever. 

At the shelter the night before 500, the ponies came right up to the opening and stayed there, chewing on a fallen tree, licking rocks & picking up an empty whisky bottle off of the picnic table. It was probably 3am when this happened & it was AMAZING because I was the only one who was awake. On the trail it can sometimes feel like you never have a minute to yourself, everyone sees the same mountains, everyone walks the same trail, but I know 100% that I truly witnessed this by myself (and I love that I did!) 

Anyways! The weather has been nice, I’m doing bigger mile days & I get to see my dad tomorrow, so life is good right now!

500 miles (well kinda)

Tonight I went for dinner in Damascus, and it was great (I got a super greasy awesome burger). Basically this place is the only resturant open past 7:00pm, and one of the only ones that sells beer.

It also happened to be Karaoke night. Karaoke night is a BIG deal in Damascus, and boy did the locals represent. Unfortunately some of them must’ve had stage fright, so this woman named Diana sang for most of the time (in fairness she was really really good, so people were probably intimidated).

Well after two beers (thank you, lowered tolerance!) and FX prodding me to sing with her on stage, I finally suggested that we gather all of the hikers in the bar to come up on stage & sing “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)”.

Hikers being hikers, they all said yes & got wicked excited (well all except “Pops” who bailed last minute as there was a pizza emergency) and we proceeded to get up on the tiny stage & totally derail the entire karaoke night. 

I’m sure it’s not the first time Damascus has witnessed such a semi-drunken display of mismatched voices singing this song, but I’m sure that we totally nailed it. 

I really hope this starts (or continues) a tradition for the town of Damascus. If it does, I’m sure the locals will have to switch to doing underground karaoke to avoid such a spectacular performance. 

An ode to poles

Well not so much an ode, as a big freaking shout out to my trekking poles. I had been apprehensive about using them on the trail, as for some reason I thought I’d be the only one, or that they’d just be annoying.

All I can say is, thank you trekking poles. My knees thank you, my back thanks you, and I probably owe some part of the fact that I haven’t fallen to my death on the trail, to you. In fact, I haven’t fallen at all (knock on wood) on the trail, and am one of the few who haven’t. Having 4 points of contact is great, especially when you almost fall of a ledge, but then your poles are like “DON’T WORRY WE’VE GOT YA COVERED”.

I almost ate it today. Right after crossing into Virginia I picked up the pace (thanks a lot, excitement) hoping to maintain the lead I had over a few hikers, and get into Damascus. Well, I decided to look up at a tree or bird or something (yes, while moving) and tripped on a phantom tree root, and then went soaring through the air. Picture a slow motion image of a frog jumping from one leaf to another, and that’s how I feel I looked. 

Thankfully I had my trekking poles  and they caught me. It was a pretty embarrassing/freaky moment, but thankfully I was alone and got out of the situation unscathed.

Shout out to you poles, thank you for being the real MVP of the AT, and for saving me more than I’d like to admit 👍🏼

469.0

Today I hiked into Damascus, VA. 

Which means that I’ve completed 3 states (Georgia, North Carolina & Tennessee), and that I’ve hiked 469.0 miles. 

I’m still dealing with a blister that can’t make up its mind about healing or getting worse, and my hips are sore from carrying a super heavy pack, but I did it. 

I’ll hit mile 500 in a few days, right as I am seeing the “wild” ponies for the first time. From there, I’ll be in Virginia for what might feel like a life time (it’s 550 miles and the longest state on the trail).

I’ve decided to make it my goal to get to Harper’s Ferry West Virginia. It’s the unofficial, official half way point on the trail, and I think it’ll be a good time for me to decide if I want to keep moving forward or head home. Chances are I’ll keep hiking, I have no intention of leaving the trail, but I feel like setting this destination as my goal for now will help me focus on the day to day of the trail.

The weather will be getting nicer (or at least it should be) and soon my pack will be lighter as I’ll send home some winter layers. It will also hopefully get even lighter as I finally figure out how much food I’ll need between resupplies, and hopefully not be carrying a crazy amount like I have been.

There is something I need all of your help with:

so Virginia being 550 miles long, is where people start feeling “the Virginia blues” and give up on the trail/themselves due to monotony.

If anyone would like to send me post cards or friendship bracelets, that would be cool. In return I’ll send you a hand-drawn post card, and it’ll be a fun little way for me to fill time when things get boring or tough. 

I’ve updated the mail list, and will try to be updating it as I go along. If you do send me something, please send me a message here so I know to look for it and so that I can make sure I stop to pick it up.

You are all super amazing, and I’m glad & honored to have you stand behind me on this adventure 

“you’re so lucky”

Before I get into the topic of this post, please know that I believe that there’s a significant difference between the words “lucky” and “fortunate” (at least connotation wise).

I’m incredibly fortunate to be able to be hiking this beautifully challenging scenic trail, but “luck” has very little to do with it. To me, luck has very little to do with planning or thought, while fortune favors the prepared or however that saying goes. 

” It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to” All too often on the trail you will see the beginning of this Tolkien quote written on shelter walls or in logs and registers, and while this quote acknowledges the danger of catching the hiker bug and never wanting to let go, or not being able to stop yourself from taking off to another great adventure, it fails to recognize all of the bits and pieces that make me hate when people tell me that “I’m so lucky”.

I am homesick as can be. I am stuck in the unfamiliar world of the South & experiencing culture shock worse than I have when I’ve gone abroad. My body and my mind are both exhausted and find little peace at night in a tent. I’ve sweat enough salt to line an infinite number of margarita glass rims, but again am stuck in what I call “damp” counties, which leaves me without the tequila to put in said glass (but apparently wine and beer are cool?). These are the surface layer things that a picture on Facebook, or a happy blog post cannot express.

When you see my pictures or read something I’ve written here, you are getting that facade of backpacking that I’ve been able to muster up my energy to present to you. You won’t see the blister on my toe that is leaning towards infected but hasn’t quite made up its mind (Djank-toe Unchained). You won’t feel the uncertainty that rests in my heart/stomach when I see the people I love struggling at home, or having fun without me, or know that I’m constantly questioning not if I can do this, but if I want to keep doing this. Exhaustion mixed with craving familiarity and time with old friends is a dangerous mix, that not even Gandalf would understand.

Tonight I spoke with the caretaker at the hostel I’m staying at about the trail. He was very quick to turn the conversation into one about how the trail itself is so much more than back packing. We both went into detail about our feelings about people saying “you’re so lucky” and he went so far as to talk about his relationships and sacrifices he’s had to make to live the life he does. This is not the first time I’ve had this conversation, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. 

I’ve been fortunate to have resilient friends and relationships, but still I feel they’re suffering in my absence (the relationships not the people) not because I think my presence is the force that keeps everyone healthy, happy, and out of trouble, but because I still crave some level of familiarity and am a fan of healthy codependency even if that does seem like an oxymoron.

I know in the future I will have to make more sacrifices, sacrifices bigger than not being at camp for Connects, and being away from my family and dog for too long. I know that I’ll most likely sacrifice being wealthy for a job I am passionate about that doesn’t pay well. I know there will be people who won’t understand my want to choose happiness over things that they value higher, and I know that these people may unfortunatly be old friends who I will grow apart from as a result of our not seeing eye to eye.

But for every sacrifice, hard time, or danger I face, I hope I continue to be fortunate enough to be able to continue down the right trail for me (literally and metaphorically of course) and find whatever it is that helps me live my life appreciating every moment & being able to live how I see fit, when the outside world is constantly trying to shape what said trail should look like.

This is my chance to reclaim and reboot my direction, I’m just hoping I can see it through (or know when I need to stop, and accept that)

Brrrrrr.

Today was supposed to be the day that I spent hiking 14 miles at over 6,000 ft in elevation (well not all of those miles were that high up). 

But let’s rewind a bit shall we?

Yesterday I hiked 6 miles to a shelter, and intentionally did a short day due to forecasts that predicted rain and or snow. Well, right when I started hiking, the snow began & I started to freak out. The last time it snowed I got caught out in it, and was the closest I’ve ever been to hypothermic. So as you can imagine, I didn’t want to get to that level again. Thankfully this time I didn’t get lost, and the snow didn’t accumulate as quickly as it had before. I made it to the shelter & worked with two guys to collect firewood so we could fight the wind and be warm. 

Well that only lasted so long. Around 7:00, the snow started falling rapidly. It was honestly the strangest snow I’ve ever seen, looking more like dippin’ dots or little plastic  gun pellets, than it did snow or snowflakes. I had been fortunate enough to have gotten a space in the shelter, but it didn’t really matter because it started snowing sideways. I went into the shelter and saw my sleeping bag coated in a fine layer of snow, and all of my other gear going down the same path. 

I’m fortunate enough that I was able to setup my footprint for my tent as a makeshift wind screen and block most of the weather from getting to me. Well it worked until it started snowing sideways in the middle of the night, and I woke up to my water and my body being frozen (well I wasn’t frozen, but I felt like a Popsicle). It took awhile to warm up and it took even longer to pack up and head out. 

So here we are, I hiked a bit today and am resting at a bed and breakfast. Why? Because the shelter I would’ve stayed at tonight is the highest one on the AT, and because the forecast predicted wind gusts of 20-35 mph for tonight, dragging the overall temperature down into the negative numbers. 

Let me just say, that I’m currently inside with the heat on & under blankets, and I can still feel the wind outside. It’s cold down here, and I don’t even want to imagine what hikers are facing up at elevation. I’m glad I’m taking the night to let my sleeping bag dry out, and to eat some of the food that has been making my pack way too heavy. I’ve also been stretching which feels incredibly necessary, as my hips and knees have siezed up due to the cold. I think I have my “trail legs” but when it’s this cold, my legs go back to feeling how they did pre-physical therapy, and even the smallest miles feel like they take forever. 

On one hand I’m lucky that my “setbacks” have been due to weather, but it is hard to be happy about going inside when I’m inching closer and closer to Virginia. But for now I’ll be happy petting the dogs that live here & watching “The Breakfast Club”.