 Throw' outside Port Clinton, PA |
At this point my dad knew I was pretty tired of hiking. He was the one I could always complain to-Somebody had to hear it and I wasn't going to let everyone know by writing it in the registers. He suggested I slow down and take the next semester off too. I had been through such a steady routine, and been so focused on finishing the hike at now 18 miles a day, that anything less would feel like failure. So I never even considered it, the time to quit was a while back. It becomes more an exercise in having a positive attitude.
What was really interesting to me, was how quickly my mood would change from one day to another. You cant really say "it'll be over soon." Sometimes I would wake up in a great mood after a bad day, for no real reason. Other times it would carry on for a full day, even in beautiful country. I guess this is unique to a long distance trip, and now see a huge difference in hiking half of the trail versus a thru-hike. Still, I give lots of credit to the people I met at the end, who have been section hiking for over ten years.
On my hike up to Mt. Greylock-the highest point in Mass at 3491 ft-I ran into Stewie. At the time, I didn't know this short, skinny guy with dreadlocks was a likely candidate for a three month thru-hike, but that's just what he did. Looking at his pack I thought he was a day hiker. I heard he goes to the University of Georgia, and was trying to squeeze it into one summer. Ms. Janet told him his chance of finishing were bout "a million to one." I would have agreed. A few days later I met another hiker going southbound. I was hiking, staring at the ground and heard this guy's voice: "what's up brother," as he jogged passed me. He must have been 6'3'' with a beard and long hair. I later found out he was running it. I don't know how either of them could motivate themselves over such a long hike, but its really interesting to me. It works on the same premise as a thru-hike-Anyone can do it, the distance is more of a mental challenge than physical-but to push yourself physically and mentally for that long is truly remarkable. It is such a delicate balance, with all the external factors of weather, trail conditions, good and bad luck, that I really don't see any humble way that they can relate that experience to others. Way too personal. And that's what's so great about meeting these people, they are doing it for themselves and aren't there to tell you how "wonderful" it all is.
The Vermont state line brought me into a whole new type of hiking. Known by hikers as VerMUD, the lushness of the Green Mountains made for some really unpleasant hiking. It was a dry season too. Then my headlamp broke, so for a week I had to get up early and hike before it got dark (No outfitters nearby). BedHead was not known to get up before seven. And then this guy who wanted $10 for driving me to the trailhead once he dropped me off, put me in a fowl mood. It was strange, I didn't want to argue with this seventy year old man who drove a beat up old car, so after a little back and forth argument I grudgingly gave him $8.
I would find myself in unique situation like this where I didn't really know how to feel. Earlier in Pennsylvania I got into a sticky situation by hanging my hammock in a shelter. There were two section hikers who I didn't think would mind. I thought I was out of their way (Wrong assumption). The first thing he said to me was not "could you please...," it was "so because you're a thru-hiker you think you own the shelter," suggesting I take it down right away because I didn't get permission. And from there it was on. I told him to have fun at work on Monday which really set him off. And then it was sort of a crossfire from there. I stood my ground among lots of yelling (six inches from my face), and I knew he wanted to start a fight (Yep, he was bigger than me so I I just kept arguing rather than crossing that threshold), but after the yelling he and his brother packed up and left. I didn't let him know, but I was really scared. I was so glad I stood my ground, and it showed me where to pick my fights, without being aggressive or being pushed around. A few thru-hikers got a big kick out of that story, because I'm usually pretty passive (I never told anyone, but I guess they did). There are other times I saw this with other hikers too; sometimes situations just come up on the hike that nobody wants and it suddenly is really hard to settle differences. So I guess I felt alright about giving the old man $8.
Central Vermont was beautiful. Killington Peak gave us 360 views and let us see some of the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Just outside of Woodstock, VT, I saw a sign at the trailhead, inviting hikers to stay at an old barn just 50 yards off the trail for a place to stay and showers. Dan had been doing this for at least ten years, for free, and said he had never had a bad experience (but suggested that it would only take one). This was a great stopover for me. It was twenty three miles from Hanover, NH, where I had made plans to meet up with Kate, a good friend from CU the next day. By the end of the day I was feeling pretty weak, and thought I just needed to drink more water. This was followed by a slight fever and overall fatigue. I tried to sleep on it. I started hiking the next day around 6:30, feeling pretty whipped from the night before. My neck got really stiff and I had a pounding headache. Halfway through, I remember stopping and massaging my temples really hard, which helped a little with the headache. The humidity was about as high as could be too, so I was really hurting through this stretch. Then I saw the classic "bull's-eye" on my arm, that I was hoping it was a spider bite. The last three miles into Hanover is the longest road walk of the trail-three miles. I'm just glad I had to make it to see Kate in Hanover, because I don't know what else would have me hiking. CVS told me it was Lymes Disease, and I had about an hour to think about what that meant for my hike. I was on a tight eighteen mile a day schedule, and a mandatory week off, with four weeks to go got me really worried. Thinking about having to stop the thru-hike for this was something I might have to accept. But to be honest, it was a mix of frustration and relief. If it really was debilitating, then I was done with my hike for now, verses another month of eighteen miles a day through the undisputed hardest part of the trail. When I met up with Kate an hour later her mom, Deb, rushed me to the hospital.
Fortunately she was a nurse, and was "on call" for this one. Kate and I planned on two days of hiking, but instead spend that time recuperating at her family's cabin back in Vermont. If they hadn't been there for me, the other options would have been pretty grim. I would have had to have spent those two days asleep on the floor of the Dartmouth Outing Club, which didn't really like hikers anyway. Thank you Deb, thank you. She bent over backwards for me, and with three days of antibiotics in me, I made almost a complete recovery. Also, I never told my dad, because he would have probably done something proactive in getting me to slow down.
New Hampshire's White Mountains were an entirely new experience for thru- hikers. The Whites are an incredible range, with most of the peaks above treeline-cool and windy in the heart of summer. It was the hardest hiking I had done up to that point, though also the most unique. The Franconia Ridge Trail was the highlight here, with a two mile ridgewalk that towers over the surrounding area, giving it a very exposed feeling. This was some good hard hiking, better to get a late start because this was also the most crowded stretch of the trail, with lots of weekenders using the hut systems. The AMC (Known by some as the "Appalachian Money Club") lets thru-hikers stay for free, under the condition that they do an hour or two of work to earn their stay. Other than that there were pay campsites. Other than that, camping was technically illegal, but lots of thru-hikers did "stealth camp" to avoid the crowds and the manual labor.
Mt. Washington caught me by surprise too. At 6,288ft, it is the highest peak in the Northeast. Home to some of the worst weather in the world (Highest winds in the world recorded here-Around 220 mph), it is also a popular tourist destination. If you don't feel like driving your car to the top, you can take the choo-choo train up. They have a museum, food court, post office and about two hundred visitors when I summited. So I guess I'm just another hiker who thinks "that's just not fair." Most looked like they had not been hiking in a long time. The trail was originally going to end here, when they were still putting it together. There were enough Mainers involved to get it to go another 330 miles into the heart of Maine and up the far more impressive Mt. Katahdin.
 Just after Mahousic Notch |