So here's an update, for those of you who probably wish you could track me down and strangle me for not having given you one in ages and ages, but luckily (for me) you aren't in Colorado...
Patty is currently in the STL, with plans to return to our rapidly-cooling town of Winter Park around the end of this week. According to what I know, she did climb Kahtadin (the final summit on a Northbounder's AT journey), but had to take a diffeent route than most, owing to the fact that one of her arms is in a cast. That's right: less than a week from being finished with the Trail, our beloved Tumbleweed took an unfortunate tumble of her own from some logs bridging a ravine, and broke her arm.
The good news is: she's fine. The bad news is: she's a bit broken. I'll leave the details for Patty to post, or maybe we'll save them for the book. (After all, it's a much more original story now that there are broken bones involved, right? I mean, Billy Boy Bryson never even finished the AT; much less sustained a heroic (in the loosest sense of the word) hiking injury, and they're making a movie out of his book.)
So Patty's coming back. I'm stoked. We'll try and fill in the blanks soon.
-Sam
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Just a check-in
Here I am in Duncannon, PA. I arrived last night around 7:30p and received the warmest welcome as I, along with Rebel, Big Shanty, and Fuzzy Monkey all approached this park in town that we had plans to camp at for the night there were about 50 hikers cheering and clapping for us! Wow...that was a great surprise. There was a bunch of trail angels at the park who had food, beer, and entertainment for all of us hikers passing thru! We camped there and went down to a famous trail hotel/restaurant/bar in town called the Doyle. It was a blast. I'm waiting on my mail drop here today and heading our early tomorrow morning for the treacherous rocks of PA! Oh yea..there is a Japanese crew that have been following the major waves of hikers this season taping different aspects of the trail. They are doing a documentary on the trail. Yep...they interviewed me! Pretty neat. I think I might be famous over in Japan!
That's it for now,
-Tumbleweed
That's it for now,
-Tumbleweed
The 'Family'
So, after my beloved Backtrack left me all alone out here on the long, lonely journey to Maine I had no choice but to meet up with some fellow hikers. Besides, what fun is hiking, soaking in creeks, and drinking way too much during town visits while all alone? Answer: not nearly as fun as it is with three guys who smell even worse then myself, drink way more then me, and are obsessed with the commonly used 'body glide' out here on the trail (used to prevent chaffing and/or blisters).
I first started hiking with Rookie, a fellow St. Louisian. It was really nice to talk baseball with someone who finally was not an Astro's fan (there seem to be a lot of those out here). I proceeded to call him 'county boy' seeing as how he is from the county NOT to mistaken for city. He proceeded to call me 'city girl.' It was a great match, plus he didn't mind hanging my bear bag at night, always a plus in a hiking partner. Later on down the trail when I hurt my ankle, he stepped up and carried my pack a full 2.5 miles to a road after taking his pack first. I was in no state to be walking on my ankle, much less walking on it with an extra 41 lbs on my back (yes my pack was still ridiculously heavy at that point which may have been part of the healing process problem with my ankle). We hiked a ways thru the beginning part part of VA. There was one night he kept talking about the wild boars around VA. I was not too fond of the idea of sharing the same woods with a wild boar, much less many wild boars. That night I did not finish my dinner and I had to take it away from where we were camping and bury it. All I think about while I buried my food was a wild boar tearing up the ground to get to the food. Later that night, as I lay in my tent, Rookie was camped about 10 feet away from mine in his matching Mountain Hardware tent, I had trouble falling asleep because I was thinking about these beast lurking about the woods! Not two minutes after I started drifting to sleep I heard something just outside my tent sniffing around. I was freaking out at the thought of it being, well of course...a wild boar. I yelled to Rookie to wake up and check it out. Turns out it was just a dog that we later found out was taken from a thru-hiker by a drunk thru-hiker. The dog and the drunk thru-hiker were lost that night...not good.
I had you going though! You all thought this was a story about a wild boar tackled to the ground by the county boy known as Rookie who later became known on the trail as 'wild beast tamer' or something of the like....not so much!
Rookie and I later on in Atkins, VA met up with D.O.T (director of trail). D.O.T is a hiking machine who has already hiked the PCT (pacific crest trail) and has plans to not only finish out the AT, but to do the CDT (continental divide trail). This would make him a 'triple-crown er' in the hiking world. One thing you all should know about D.O.T is that everyone knows him out here! Everyone! If they haven't had the pleasure if meeting him, they have heard about him. You see, in most hiker's mail drops you will find assorted noodles, snacks, maybe some extra batteries you get the picture. In D.O.T's mail drops you will find all the same plus a delicious bottle of wine! In every mail drop (by the way, he gets a mail drop about every 3-5 days)! Yeah...he likes to share and he knows how to make a long day of hiking...well, still a long day of hiking but a fun one and does a great job at keeping spirits high and attitudes in check out here! Rookie soon coined D.O.T 'Doctor Of Tumbleweed instead of Director of trail. When I had about 20 billion blisters on both my feet and my swollen ankle he was always 'reminding' me of what I should be doing to heal quicker. I came limping up one of the many mountains one day to find the guys waiting for me while they rested (I always told them not to wait for me, that I would eventually catch up to them. I was moving pretty slow at this point due to the excruciating pain I was in with my feet and ankle). D.O.T told me to give him my boot and that he was going to cut the toes out so that my toes could have some breathing room. We were only about 2 days from a town where I had plans to get new boots at the local outfitter, so I agreed. After the major surgery on my boots I put them on and allowed my toes to go free, it was like a brand new pair of boots! Of course this was only going to last for a little while because my socks kept getting wet and there was always the chance that I might stub my toe on a rock or a root. The following day (the day we would be getting into town) D.O.T came across a pair of old tennis shoes (men's size 13) and told me to put them on. At first I thought it was probably the dumbest idea I have ever heard of until I tried them on (not until after D.O.T got all 45 bazillion ants out of them) and my feet were 'free birds'! I hiked in these clown shoes for 12 miles into town!
Trail-Pooh joined up with us not long after the size 13 day. Card games and whiskey-that's Trail-Pooh in a nutshell! You never really know where his accent is from. He sounds like he might be from the south or the southwest or possibly Peru while in fact he is from Rochester, NY! Figure that one out. Rookie did the best impression of him. When my ankle would be seriously hurting he would be right there offer me his 130 proof whiskey to help with the pain. When we were 'aqua-blazing' (canoeing) he supplied a fair amount of the live entertainment and we were so lucky to have seen his 'blue moon' (or very white) about every half hour on the trip!
The four of us hung out with each other for the better part of VA until Harper's Ferry where we all split and went our own ways. They were a great bunch out here and I miss them a ton:/
I have met so many other great people out here and have been hiking along with a couple guys for a few days now, Rebel, Big Shanty, and Fuzzy Monkey. Good times.
-Tumbleweed
I first started hiking with Rookie, a fellow St. Louisian. It was really nice to talk baseball with someone who finally was not an Astro's fan (there seem to be a lot of those out here). I proceeded to call him 'county boy' seeing as how he is from the county NOT to mistaken for city. He proceeded to call me 'city girl.' It was a great match, plus he didn't mind hanging my bear bag at night, always a plus in a hiking partner. Later on down the trail when I hurt my ankle, he stepped up and carried my pack a full 2.5 miles to a road after taking his pack first. I was in no state to be walking on my ankle, much less walking on it with an extra 41 lbs on my back (yes my pack was still ridiculously heavy at that point which may have been part of the healing process problem with my ankle). We hiked a ways thru the beginning part part of VA. There was one night he kept talking about the wild boars around VA. I was not too fond of the idea of sharing the same woods with a wild boar, much less many wild boars. That night I did not finish my dinner and I had to take it away from where we were camping and bury it. All I think about while I buried my food was a wild boar tearing up the ground to get to the food. Later that night, as I lay in my tent, Rookie was camped about 10 feet away from mine in his matching Mountain Hardware tent, I had trouble falling asleep because I was thinking about these beast lurking about the woods! Not two minutes after I started drifting to sleep I heard something just outside my tent sniffing around. I was freaking out at the thought of it being, well of course...a wild boar. I yelled to Rookie to wake up and check it out. Turns out it was just a dog that we later found out was taken from a thru-hiker by a drunk thru-hiker. The dog and the drunk thru-hiker were lost that night...not good.
I had you going though! You all thought this was a story about a wild boar tackled to the ground by the county boy known as Rookie who later became known on the trail as 'wild beast tamer' or something of the like....not so much!
Rookie and I later on in Atkins, VA met up with D.O.T (director of trail). D.O.T is a hiking machine who has already hiked the PCT (pacific crest trail) and has plans to not only finish out the AT, but to do the CDT (continental divide trail). This would make him a 'triple-crown er' in the hiking world. One thing you all should know about D.O.T is that everyone knows him out here! Everyone! If they haven't had the pleasure if meeting him, they have heard about him. You see, in most hiker's mail drops you will find assorted noodles, snacks, maybe some extra batteries you get the picture. In D.O.T's mail drops you will find all the same plus a delicious bottle of wine! In every mail drop (by the way, he gets a mail drop about every 3-5 days)! Yeah...he likes to share and he knows how to make a long day of hiking...well, still a long day of hiking but a fun one and does a great job at keeping spirits high and attitudes in check out here! Rookie soon coined D.O.T 'Doctor Of Tumbleweed instead of Director of trail. When I had about 20 billion blisters on both my feet and my swollen ankle he was always 'reminding' me of what I should be doing to heal quicker. I came limping up one of the many mountains one day to find the guys waiting for me while they rested (I always told them not to wait for me, that I would eventually catch up to them. I was moving pretty slow at this point due to the excruciating pain I was in with my feet and ankle). D.O.T told me to give him my boot and that he was going to cut the toes out so that my toes could have some breathing room. We were only about 2 days from a town where I had plans to get new boots at the local outfitter, so I agreed. After the major surgery on my boots I put them on and allowed my toes to go free, it was like a brand new pair of boots! Of course this was only going to last for a little while because my socks kept getting wet and there was always the chance that I might stub my toe on a rock or a root. The following day (the day we would be getting into town) D.O.T came across a pair of old tennis shoes (men's size 13) and told me to put them on. At first I thought it was probably the dumbest idea I have ever heard of until I tried them on (not until after D.O.T got all 45 bazillion ants out of them) and my feet were 'free birds'! I hiked in these clown shoes for 12 miles into town!
Trail-Pooh joined up with us not long after the size 13 day. Card games and whiskey-that's Trail-Pooh in a nutshell! You never really know where his accent is from. He sounds like he might be from the south or the southwest or possibly Peru while in fact he is from Rochester, NY! Figure that one out. Rookie did the best impression of him. When my ankle would be seriously hurting he would be right there offer me his 130 proof whiskey to help with the pain. When we were 'aqua-blazing' (canoeing) he supplied a fair amount of the live entertainment and we were so lucky to have seen his 'blue moon' (or very white) about every half hour on the trip!
The four of us hung out with each other for the better part of VA until Harper's Ferry where we all split and went our own ways. They were a great bunch out here and I miss them a ton:/
I have met so many other great people out here and have been hiking along with a couple guys for a few days now, Rebel, Big Shanty, and Fuzzy Monkey. Good times.
-Tumbleweed
Friday, June 29, 2007
maildrops
Several of you have been requesting where my next mail drop might be so you can send me probably a belt made of bricks! I know all of you and your sick sense of humor!
Anyhow, I will be heading to Duncannon, PA for my next drop. If you do want to send a postcard or something equally light...you would address it as such:
Patty Weber
General Delivery
Duncannon, PA
17020
please hold for thru-hiker
I will probably be there in at least a week....so mail it out quick (Jess). If you can't or want to wait for the next, just email my wonderful assistant/support crew/best hiking buddy EVER, Backtrack (Sam) here on the blog.
Whelp...see ya later,
-Tumbleweed
Anyhow, I will be heading to Duncannon, PA for my next drop. If you do want to send a postcard or something equally light...you would address it as such:
Patty Weber
General Delivery
Duncannon, PA
17020
please hold for thru-hiker
I will probably be there in at least a week....so mail it out quick (Jess). If you can't or want to wait for the next, just email my wonderful assistant/support crew/best hiking buddy EVER, Backtrack (Sam) here on the blog.
Whelp...see ya later,
-Tumbleweed
It's tough out here
Let me tell you...it is pretty rough out here on the AT as you can all imagine. I've had to rough it thru the greyhound station of Washington D.C., New York, New York, and finally Boston only to hang out here on the beautiful beaches of Massachusetts with my friend Christy while staying with the nicest family on the planet!
Okay, so I had a little detour. I thought that after making it to Harper's Ferry, WV (the half-way point, well...mentally speaking) and the fact that the wonderful "family" I've been hiking with (you'll learn about them in another blog...I was told to keep these short) has all split and gone there separate ways, I thought this would be a great time to work on a tan! Except that I sit here now in excruciating pain because I don't tan...I get third degree burn! Anyhow, it has been a blast and I will be flying back down to D.C. where I'll be meeting up with my pops. We will then go back to Harper's Ferry, where I left the trail, and hike north from there. He'll be hiking with me for three full days! After spending that much time with me he very well could start hiking south!
I hope to meet back up with the guys I've been hiking with, we'll see.
So that's what's going on. I apologize for the lack of entries, the ridiculously long entries, and all the type-Os's (dad, thanks for pointing that out;)
Happy, healthy, and hiking north,
-Tumbleweed
Okay, so I had a little detour. I thought that after making it to Harper's Ferry, WV (the half-way point, well...mentally speaking) and the fact that the wonderful "family" I've been hiking with (you'll learn about them in another blog...I was told to keep these short) has all split and gone there separate ways, I thought this would be a great time to work on a tan! Except that I sit here now in excruciating pain because I don't tan...I get third degree burn! Anyhow, it has been a blast and I will be flying back down to D.C. where I'll be meeting up with my pops. We will then go back to Harper's Ferry, where I left the trail, and hike north from there. He'll be hiking with me for three full days! After spending that much time with me he very well could start hiking south!
I hope to meet back up with the guys I've been hiking with, we'll see.
So that's what's going on. I apologize for the lack of entries, the ridiculously long entries, and all the type-Os's (dad, thanks for pointing that out;)
Happy, healthy, and hiking north,
-Tumbleweed
Monday, June 18, 2007
Something to be said about Trail Angles
There are a lot (and by a lot I really only mean a handful of people) who set out on the A.T. to set records or do something off-beat to become sort of a legend, I suppose, out here on the trail. There's the guy who ran the entire trail; I'm sure he had some great pics of his trek. The guy who has done the trail like 15 times; I'm not sure if he realizes that there are other trails here in the US that are worth hiking or if he is just so accustomed to following the "white blaze" that he feels lost without it and now in fact CAN'T get off the trail. There are the sisters who supposedly are out here right now who are attempting to hike the entire trail barefoot. Little do they know that there was a guy last year who did this and yet another guy, who I met, who is doing the same thing. Sorry ladies, not impressed. Then there are the people who simply become legends on the trail without ever trying or most the time ever knowing. Usually these people are just missing a nut or two and really are not legends at all, just really weird people who stick out in the minds and stories of a lot of hikers.
Maybe a lot of people are a legend in their own mind. All I know is there are the small percentage of hikers who help these so called legends really believe they are. I am not one of them. I think I am usually easily impressed and very easily amused, not so much out here. I think maybe part of it may be that I am out here too and although not attempting to hike from Georgia to Maine barefoot still have to go through the same pains and trials these "legends" go through. Basically what I am trying to say is there are no legends out here on the trail. There are plenty of really neat people and definitely plenty of "interesting" people out here, but no real legends.
There are, however, legends along the trail. These people, or legends if you will, are willing and wanting to do anything they can for a hiker. They will cook for you, let you shower in their home, shuttle you around town while you are wearing a bathrobe because they are also doing your laundry for you. These people will bend over backwards for you and give you the clothes off their own back to help a hiker out. They are called Trail Angels.
Backtrack and I had our fair share of trail angels while we were hiking together. There was Pablo in Georgia, mine and Backtracks very first hitch into a town off the trail. We had just enough time to cross the road and put our thumbs out for about a nano second when he pulled up! Of course, Pablo was driving what very well could have been the smallest possible car to hitch in with two smelly hikers, our ridiculously over sized packs, my trekking poles (Lucy and Ethel) and of course Bob, the beloved walking stick Backtrack adopted while out here. Yep....Pablo was driving a suped-up, sweet silver mustang! We were a little uncomfortable, very thankful, and riding into Hiawassee, GA in style. Another angel there in Hiawassee was Josh. This young guy who would not tell me his age, only that he was anywhere between 19 and 28 drove a suped-up F150 with leather seats so polished up that I slid clear across them as he zipped out of the hardware store parking lot.
NOTE: There in Hiawassee, GA apparently because there are no bowling allies, movie theatres, billiards, or even a wal-mart to hang out at, the hang out is the local hardware store parking lot. Not really sure why, all it is is a parking lot known by the locals as "the hardware." This is where we (Backtrack, Dave AT and myself) found Josh after gourging at the Daniel's All You Can Eat Buffet there in town. He gave us a ride up a long 11 mile up-hill back to the hostel. Backtrack and Dave AT sat in the bed of the truck while I rode shotgun and chatted him up. Turns out our friend Josh has plans to be a firefighter soon...go Josh!
Backtrack and I randomly came across a cute older couple in North Carolina sitting along an old logging road. They had coolers set up with all kinds of water, Gatorade, and soda and there were two huge storage units with snacks galore! They also had some extra chairs set up so that the hikers could take a load off and sit on something other then a log or a rock! What a luxury. They told us about their Baptist Church and some ministry work they have done in the past. They had some great stories. Backtrack you'll have to help me with names here...I can't remember:/
Great surprise they were....yummy snacks, cold Gatorade and fun conversation go a long way out here on the trail!
Franklin, NC is swarming with trail angles! Starting with the two guys who picked us up after we had been hitching for 20 minutes in the wrong direction. All we really needed was a ride into town which was 15 miles away, but they insisted on giving us a tour. They took us to all the hotels to compare prices and showed us where all the good food was to be found. Later on we were out in front of the post office sorting through the mail drops Christy sent out to us trying to decide what to take and what to leave behind (I now know never to leave any food behind, just mail ahead in your bump-box). Everyone....and I mean all 26 people of Franklin stopped to talk. "Ya'll out on the trail?", "How long ya'll been out hikin'?", "Seen any bears, have ya?", "You two plan on eatin all that food?"- All kinds of questions! The people of Franklin were really interested in our adventure. When we told people that we had plans to hike all the way to Maine their eyes widened and their jaw dropped as they would say something along the lines of "Ya'll better get movin' or yer gonna be hikin' in the snow!" or people, not just in Franklin loved to tell us that we were at the "end of the pack." Most everyone was genuinely nice and interested in our story. Backtrack offered one of our 50 bazillion snickers to a cute little old lady with big hair; she hesitated for a moment as she drooled over the thought, then said sure as she started to get money out of her purse to pay us for it! We told her that she was doing us a favor by cutting down our pack weight!
We met an awesome soccer mom-not really sure if she has kids and if so if they play soccer- but she had the suburban and the "look." Her name is Kim and she offered the two of us a ride back to the trail, but we were moving slow that day (shocker) and still had a lot of sorting we had to do. Kim then said she had to take care of some stuff and that she would be back in 20 minutes but for us not to feel rushed. Who does that? Who goes out of their way to take anyone anywhere, much less come back for them?! So we finished sorting and Kim picks us up. We told Kim that we too had some stuff we had to take care of like the laundry, the library, kmart, and pizza. Kim shows us where everything was that we needed and drops us off at the "Happy Family" laundry mat. Both of our hands were full and Kim shoves a $20 bill in Backtracks hand and says "lunch on me!" We try to tell her we couldn't accept it and give it back, but she insisted, hopped into her SUV and drove off while wishing us good luck as she drove off.
Later that day when we finally finished everything and headed back to the mat to get out packs (we made that our home base while in town) we were sitting there trying to decide how we were going to get back into town, it was already late and we didn't feel like hiking. Pretty sure that was our first 'zero day'. This woman Shawna was in there with her mom Kathy and her three sons with about 500 baskets full of clothes. We chit-chatted a bit and she had to take a call so she passes her 1 yr old to me to hold! It hit me....I was standing there in Franklin, NC in a laundry mat holding someones baby that I just met not 20 minutes ago! This my friends, is trail life! The best thing about Shawna and Kathy was that they offered to take us where we needed to go on one condition....we helped them fold the 500 baskets worth of clothes! Done deal!!
This brings us to the Ron Haven part of Franklin. Not only is he an ex pro wrestler, the unspoken owner on Franklin (he owns pretty much every hotel and apartment complex in Franklin), but also one of the coolest and most popular trail angels. Franklin is the "Gem of the Smokies". Apparently the worlds largest ruby was found there in Franklin and is now in some museum there. We happened to be in Franklin the weekend of the 'Gem Show.' As a result, every single room was taken in the booming town of Franklin seeing as how the Gem Show was...well, "kind of a big deal." The town of Franklin was buzzing with vans (creepy vans) transporting these gems to the show. People from all over were there. India, Russia, Korea...you name it and there was a gem to be shown and sold there. Good old Ron Haven put Backtrack, three other hikers and myself up for the night in one of his empty apartments hostel style, not before he drove us anywhere any of us needed to go. Great guy!
And of course there is Falgman...one of the many people outside of the Post Office. He is a thru-hiker of 2001 and offered us a ride to Damascus, VA for trail days. We of course agreed to that!
There really are so many great people out here who just want to do anything they can to help out the hikers. They're not doing it to break any records or impress anyone....they don't even get a patch for what they do! These people do it because they want to and because it's fun. They have the opportunity to meet people from all over and they hear so many different stories. It's funny because they are not out here on the trail, but they know who is out here, who's been hiking on a hurt foot, or who has seen a bear, or even who had their tent T-P'ed while they were getting water! They know all of the funny, sometimes not so funny stories of so many hikers and most the time never officially meet them. I really think a lot of these people live vicariously through the hikers. It's a win-win situation and it's awesome. I haven't even begun to mention all the trail angels I have come across, but I just wanted it to be known that they do exist and they are the real legends out here!
-Tumbleweed
Maybe a lot of people are a legend in their own mind. All I know is there are the small percentage of hikers who help these so called legends really believe they are. I am not one of them. I think I am usually easily impressed and very easily amused, not so much out here. I think maybe part of it may be that I am out here too and although not attempting to hike from Georgia to Maine barefoot still have to go through the same pains and trials these "legends" go through. Basically what I am trying to say is there are no legends out here on the trail. There are plenty of really neat people and definitely plenty of "interesting" people out here, but no real legends.
There are, however, legends along the trail. These people, or legends if you will, are willing and wanting to do anything they can for a hiker. They will cook for you, let you shower in their home, shuttle you around town while you are wearing a bathrobe because they are also doing your laundry for you. These people will bend over backwards for you and give you the clothes off their own back to help a hiker out. They are called Trail Angels.
Backtrack and I had our fair share of trail angels while we were hiking together. There was Pablo in Georgia, mine and Backtracks very first hitch into a town off the trail. We had just enough time to cross the road and put our thumbs out for about a nano second when he pulled up! Of course, Pablo was driving what very well could have been the smallest possible car to hitch in with two smelly hikers, our ridiculously over sized packs, my trekking poles (Lucy and Ethel) and of course Bob, the beloved walking stick Backtrack adopted while out here. Yep....Pablo was driving a suped-up, sweet silver mustang! We were a little uncomfortable, very thankful, and riding into Hiawassee, GA in style. Another angel there in Hiawassee was Josh. This young guy who would not tell me his age, only that he was anywhere between 19 and 28 drove a suped-up F150 with leather seats so polished up that I slid clear across them as he zipped out of the hardware store parking lot.
NOTE: There in Hiawassee, GA apparently because there are no bowling allies, movie theatres, billiards, or even a wal-mart to hang out at, the hang out is the local hardware store parking lot. Not really sure why, all it is is a parking lot known by the locals as "the hardware." This is where we (Backtrack, Dave AT and myself) found Josh after gourging at the Daniel's All You Can Eat Buffet there in town. He gave us a ride up a long 11 mile up-hill back to the hostel. Backtrack and Dave AT sat in the bed of the truck while I rode shotgun and chatted him up. Turns out our friend Josh has plans to be a firefighter soon...go Josh!
Backtrack and I randomly came across a cute older couple in North Carolina sitting along an old logging road. They had coolers set up with all kinds of water, Gatorade, and soda and there were two huge storage units with snacks galore! They also had some extra chairs set up so that the hikers could take a load off and sit on something other then a log or a rock! What a luxury. They told us about their Baptist Church and some ministry work they have done in the past. They had some great stories. Backtrack you'll have to help me with names here...I can't remember:/
Great surprise they were....yummy snacks, cold Gatorade and fun conversation go a long way out here on the trail!
Franklin, NC is swarming with trail angles! Starting with the two guys who picked us up after we had been hitching for 20 minutes in the wrong direction. All we really needed was a ride into town which was 15 miles away, but they insisted on giving us a tour. They took us to all the hotels to compare prices and showed us where all the good food was to be found. Later on we were out in front of the post office sorting through the mail drops Christy sent out to us trying to decide what to take and what to leave behind (I now know never to leave any food behind, just mail ahead in your bump-box). Everyone....and I mean all 26 people of Franklin stopped to talk. "Ya'll out on the trail?", "How long ya'll been out hikin'?", "Seen any bears, have ya?", "You two plan on eatin all that food?"- All kinds of questions! The people of Franklin were really interested in our adventure. When we told people that we had plans to hike all the way to Maine their eyes widened and their jaw dropped as they would say something along the lines of "Ya'll better get movin' or yer gonna be hikin' in the snow!" or people, not just in Franklin loved to tell us that we were at the "end of the pack." Most everyone was genuinely nice and interested in our story. Backtrack offered one of our 50 bazillion snickers to a cute little old lady with big hair; she hesitated for a moment as she drooled over the thought, then said sure as she started to get money out of her purse to pay us for it! We told her that she was doing us a favor by cutting down our pack weight!
We met an awesome soccer mom-not really sure if she has kids and if so if they play soccer- but she had the suburban and the "look." Her name is Kim and she offered the two of us a ride back to the trail, but we were moving slow that day (shocker) and still had a lot of sorting we had to do. Kim then said she had to take care of some stuff and that she would be back in 20 minutes but for us not to feel rushed. Who does that? Who goes out of their way to take anyone anywhere, much less come back for them?! So we finished sorting and Kim picks us up. We told Kim that we too had some stuff we had to take care of like the laundry, the library, kmart, and pizza. Kim shows us where everything was that we needed and drops us off at the "Happy Family" laundry mat. Both of our hands were full and Kim shoves a $20 bill in Backtracks hand and says "lunch on me!" We try to tell her we couldn't accept it and give it back, but she insisted, hopped into her SUV and drove off while wishing us good luck as she drove off.
Later that day when we finally finished everything and headed back to the mat to get out packs (we made that our home base while in town) we were sitting there trying to decide how we were going to get back into town, it was already late and we didn't feel like hiking. Pretty sure that was our first 'zero day'. This woman Shawna was in there with her mom Kathy and her three sons with about 500 baskets full of clothes. We chit-chatted a bit and she had to take a call so she passes her 1 yr old to me to hold! It hit me....I was standing there in Franklin, NC in a laundry mat holding someones baby that I just met not 20 minutes ago! This my friends, is trail life! The best thing about Shawna and Kathy was that they offered to take us where we needed to go on one condition....we helped them fold the 500 baskets worth of clothes! Done deal!!
This brings us to the Ron Haven part of Franklin. Not only is he an ex pro wrestler, the unspoken owner on Franklin (he owns pretty much every hotel and apartment complex in Franklin), but also one of the coolest and most popular trail angels. Franklin is the "Gem of the Smokies". Apparently the worlds largest ruby was found there in Franklin and is now in some museum there. We happened to be in Franklin the weekend of the 'Gem Show.' As a result, every single room was taken in the booming town of Franklin seeing as how the Gem Show was...well, "kind of a big deal." The town of Franklin was buzzing with vans (creepy vans) transporting these gems to the show. People from all over were there. India, Russia, Korea...you name it and there was a gem to be shown and sold there. Good old Ron Haven put Backtrack, three other hikers and myself up for the night in one of his empty apartments hostel style, not before he drove us anywhere any of us needed to go. Great guy!
And of course there is Falgman...one of the many people outside of the Post Office. He is a thru-hiker of 2001 and offered us a ride to Damascus, VA for trail days. We of course agreed to that!
There really are so many great people out here who just want to do anything they can to help out the hikers. They're not doing it to break any records or impress anyone....they don't even get a patch for what they do! These people do it because they want to and because it's fun. They have the opportunity to meet people from all over and they hear so many different stories. It's funny because they are not out here on the trail, but they know who is out here, who's been hiking on a hurt foot, or who has seen a bear, or even who had their tent T-P'ed while they were getting water! They know all of the funny, sometimes not so funny stories of so many hikers and most the time never officially meet them. I really think a lot of these people live vicariously through the hikers. It's a win-win situation and it's awesome. I haven't even begun to mention all the trail angels I have come across, but I just wanted it to be known that they do exist and they are the real legends out here!
-Tumbleweed
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
All Business
So here's a quick update on our friend Tumbleweed: just the facts.
Patty will receive her next resupply box in Cloverdale, VA; she should be there within the next few days.
She's hiking with an adventure racer who goes by DOT ("Director of Trail"; yes, he is that cool), and at last check was pulling 22+ mile days. Dang!
Patty recently bought new hiking boots, again. (The first replacement pair was purchased at Neil's gap on our 4th day out, in response to an inappropriate number of blisters on her toes.) Apparently her feet are growing and expanding enough that the old new boots are now too small. I'm predicting she'll wear a men's size 12 by the time she gets back.
It must be warm in Virginia, because she's sent back all of her warm underlayers.
She doesn't currently have her phone, but does check her voicemail, so if you're reading this, feel free to call and leave a message sometime in the next few months
That's it for today. Take care all, and happy June!
Patty will receive her next resupply box in Cloverdale, VA; she should be there within the next few days.
She's hiking with an adventure racer who goes by DOT ("Director of Trail"; yes, he is that cool), and at last check was pulling 22+ mile days. Dang!
Patty recently bought new hiking boots, again. (The first replacement pair was purchased at Neil's gap on our 4th day out, in response to an inappropriate number of blisters on her toes.) Apparently her feet are growing and expanding enough that the old new boots are now too small. I'm predicting she'll wear a men's size 12 by the time she gets back.
It must be warm in Virginia, because she's sent back all of her warm underlayers.
She doesn't currently have her phone, but does check her voicemail, so if you're reading this, feel free to call and leave a message sometime in the next few months
That's it for today. Take care all, and happy June!
Sunday, June 3, 2007
The Beginning
Even the longest journey must start with a single step, and we began our steps on April 30, around 11 AM. Thanks to the wonderful, generous, and conveniently Georgia-dwelling Spencer Smith, we had a ride from the Atlanta airport to the trail head at Springer Mountain. Also thanks to Spencer Smith, we actually got on the correct trail and made it up Springer Mountain, rather than spending our whole first day wandering along the Benton McKaye Trail (BMT in hiker lingo), which is where we (quite mistakenly) began walking on that warm, sunny Georgia morning. I think I'm getting a bit ahead of myself, so let's Backtrack (get it?) for a moment.
Denver
I suppose you could say that Denver is where our trip was slated to begin. Our flight to Atlanta left about 11:30 on April 28, and from that point on we were pretty much committed to this whole hiking thing. Patty had gone back home to the STL for a few days and I was still hanging out in Winter Park, so we agred to meet up in Denver the night before we flew out. The idea was that we'd get to hang out with the Hathaways for a bit, have a fun night out, and then have only a quick drive to the aiport in the morning. It would be a fun and relaxing way to begin our adventure, right? Well it would have been, if not for a minor detail. See, I had loaded my pack and some clothes for the plane into my car and driven to Patty's house, where I was meeting Caleb, who would drive me to Denver (it really was a good plan). We met up, I tossed my stuff from Ruggers (my Subaru) into Caleb's van, and we hit the road. It wasn't until my stuff had been brought in from the car, in Denver, that I realized something was missing.
Me: Did you guys bring in a big black trash bag?
Patty: I don't think so, but we grabbed all of the stuff that Caleb said was yours.
Me: (a bit concerned) Caleb, can I borrow the keys to go check in the car?
Caleb: Sure, I'll go with you.
Surprise: the bag wasn't there. Now here's the best part: except for my camera (which actually turned out to be somewhere else entirely), I couldn't remember what was even in the bag. I knew I had been tossing in random extra things as I was leaving the house earlier in the day, but didn't know if I was missing anything really important. I did a mental inventory: Gum (easily replaced), Crocs (Dang!, but I could pick up a pair of flip flops for camp shoes)... That was as far as I got, but the thought that I was forgetting something pretty important kept nagging at me as we went out for dinner, and all during the walk back. Back at Christy's we debated just driving back up to get the stupid bag, in order to put my mind at rest. (The drive from Denver to WP, by the way, is about an hour and a half in decent weather.) Caleb had to be back to work in the morning anyway (at this point it was definitely after midnight), and was willing to go early to take us. I knew we could get another ride back down, but I figured that since I couldn't rememer having forgotten anything important, I could count my losses when I figured out what they were. After all, I had my pack and all the important stuff inside. I was set, right?
Wrong. I realized it as we were doing a final once-over before bed: I was indeed missing something important. It was not only gum and blue foam clogs that I'd left back in my car. No, I had succeeded in forgetting my hiking boots as well. My freaking boots! How is that even possible? Well, with my talent for always having to go back (to pretty much wherever I'm leaving) for something, and without a solid double check after transfering my stuff to Caleb's car, it was pretty ease.
So at 5:30am the morning of our flight, we drove back up to get my boots (and the Crocs and gum, while we were at it). Brian Tripp was kind enough to drive us back down to Denver and the airport, so we tossed our stuff into his car (remembering the trash bag and boots this time, but forgetting my poles: ski poles rescued from the dumpster at work, that I had decided only the day before to take as trekking assistants) and were off once again.
We made it to the airport with time to spare, and that night in Atlanta had one of the funnest (yes, it's a word) evenings out that I've had in awhile. Rather than go straight to Springer the next day we spend an afternoon and night at Spencer Smith's (ok, his family's) lake house, where we set up our tents, waterproof-sprayed everything we could think of, and were treated to a fantastic home cooked meal. It was also at the lake house that I got in some last minute "trail training": marching up and down the stairs twenty times, wearing my loaded (and really freaking heavy) pack while Spencer counted my laps and laughed at me. Yes, it was a fantastic final evening in civilization.
And now we're back to where we started: April 30th, 2007. Patty and I are dropped at the trail, say our thanks and goodbyes to Spencer, and start walking. Two minutes later we hear yelling and a horn honking, and look back to see that Spencer's not just waving goodbye, but is urgently beckoning us back the way we've come. Ok, I'm thinking, we're never going to get to Maine if we have to keep turning around like this. As it turns out, we also never would have gotten to Maine walking the direction we were, because (as I mentioned earlier) we had set out on the wrong trail, and were 50 yards into exploring the (rather extensive and probably beautiful but unintended) BMT. So to add to the list of things for which we will eternally be grateful to Spencer Smith (a ride from the airport, accommodation in the ATL, driving us to WalMart, the lake house, dinner, a ride to the trail head, basically being amazing): getting us onto the AT. Without him, we'd probably still be wandering around northern Georgia, wondering why we couldn't seem to find the Hawk Mountain shelter.
So we set off, in the right direction (which was actually South, since we wanted to get an official start at Springer Mountain, but the nearest road access was nearly a mile up the trail), and we walked. Next time I'll write some more about the actually hiking part of the adventure, but for now I'm through. After all, if you're reading this now, you'll probably want to read as long as Patty's out on the trail. And she'll be out there for a few months yet, while I've only got three weeks of adventure to log. I figure there's no rush to get my story out. And check back soon for a promised post from Patty herself. I imagine it will go something like this: "Day 32- Still walking, and all I can think about is how much I miss Backtrack, and wish she was still out here hiking with me and making my coffee and dinner every day. The trail-- life, actually-- just isn't the same without her." I know, Patty, I miss you too.
Denver
I suppose you could say that Denver is where our trip was slated to begin. Our flight to Atlanta left about 11:30 on April 28, and from that point on we were pretty much committed to this whole hiking thing. Patty had gone back home to the STL for a few days and I was still hanging out in Winter Park, so we agred to meet up in Denver the night before we flew out. The idea was that we'd get to hang out with the Hathaways for a bit, have a fun night out, and then have only a quick drive to the aiport in the morning. It would be a fun and relaxing way to begin our adventure, right? Well it would have been, if not for a minor detail. See, I had loaded my pack and some clothes for the plane into my car and driven to Patty's house, where I was meeting Caleb, who would drive me to Denver (it really was a good plan). We met up, I tossed my stuff from Ruggers (my Subaru) into Caleb's van, and we hit the road. It wasn't until my stuff had been brought in from the car, in Denver, that I realized something was missing.
Me: Did you guys bring in a big black trash bag?
Patty: I don't think so, but we grabbed all of the stuff that Caleb said was yours.
Me: (a bit concerned) Caleb, can I borrow the keys to go check in the car?
Caleb: Sure, I'll go with you.
Surprise: the bag wasn't there. Now here's the best part: except for my camera (which actually turned out to be somewhere else entirely), I couldn't remember what was even in the bag. I knew I had been tossing in random extra things as I was leaving the house earlier in the day, but didn't know if I was missing anything really important. I did a mental inventory: Gum (easily replaced), Crocs (Dang!, but I could pick up a pair of flip flops for camp shoes)... That was as far as I got, but the thought that I was forgetting something pretty important kept nagging at me as we went out for dinner, and all during the walk back. Back at Christy's we debated just driving back up to get the stupid bag, in order to put my mind at rest. (The drive from Denver to WP, by the way, is about an hour and a half in decent weather.) Caleb had to be back to work in the morning anyway (at this point it was definitely after midnight), and was willing to go early to take us. I knew we could get another ride back down, but I figured that since I couldn't rememer having forgotten anything important, I could count my losses when I figured out what they were. After all, I had my pack and all the important stuff inside. I was set, right?
Wrong. I realized it as we were doing a final once-over before bed: I was indeed missing something important. It was not only gum and blue foam clogs that I'd left back in my car. No, I had succeeded in forgetting my hiking boots as well. My freaking boots! How is that even possible? Well, with my talent for always having to go back (to pretty much wherever I'm leaving) for something, and without a solid double check after transfering my stuff to Caleb's car, it was pretty ease.
So at 5:30am the morning of our flight, we drove back up to get my boots (and the Crocs and gum, while we were at it). Brian Tripp was kind enough to drive us back down to Denver and the airport, so we tossed our stuff into his car (remembering the trash bag and boots this time, but forgetting my poles: ski poles rescued from the dumpster at work, that I had decided only the day before to take as trekking assistants) and were off once again.
We made it to the airport with time to spare, and that night in Atlanta had one of the funnest (yes, it's a word) evenings out that I've had in awhile. Rather than go straight to Springer the next day we spend an afternoon and night at Spencer Smith's (ok, his family's) lake house, where we set up our tents, waterproof-sprayed everything we could think of, and were treated to a fantastic home cooked meal. It was also at the lake house that I got in some last minute "trail training": marching up and down the stairs twenty times, wearing my loaded (and really freaking heavy) pack while Spencer counted my laps and laughed at me. Yes, it was a fantastic final evening in civilization.
And now we're back to where we started: April 30th, 2007. Patty and I are dropped at the trail, say our thanks and goodbyes to Spencer, and start walking. Two minutes later we hear yelling and a horn honking, and look back to see that Spencer's not just waving goodbye, but is urgently beckoning us back the way we've come. Ok, I'm thinking, we're never going to get to Maine if we have to keep turning around like this. As it turns out, we also never would have gotten to Maine walking the direction we were, because (as I mentioned earlier) we had set out on the wrong trail, and were 50 yards into exploring the (rather extensive and probably beautiful but unintended) BMT. So to add to the list of things for which we will eternally be grateful to Spencer Smith (a ride from the airport, accommodation in the ATL, driving us to WalMart, the lake house, dinner, a ride to the trail head, basically being amazing): getting us onto the AT. Without him, we'd probably still be wandering around northern Georgia, wondering why we couldn't seem to find the Hawk Mountain shelter.
So we set off, in the right direction (which was actually South, since we wanted to get an official start at Springer Mountain, but the nearest road access was nearly a mile up the trail), and we walked. Next time I'll write some more about the actually hiking part of the adventure, but for now I'm through. After all, if you're reading this now, you'll probably want to read as long as Patty's out on the trail. And she'll be out there for a few months yet, while I've only got three weeks of adventure to log. I figure there's no rush to get my story out. And check back soon for a promised post from Patty herself. I imagine it will go something like this: "Day 32- Still walking, and all I can think about is how much I miss Backtrack, and wish she was still out here hiking with me and making my coffee and dinner every day. The trail-- life, actually-- just isn't the same without her." I know, Patty, I miss you too.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Excuses
Hey folks,
For anyone and everone who has been either diligently or casually checking this blog for updates on the famed Patty Weber's Appalachian Trail journey, and has been confused as to why there hasn't been a post in over a month, I offer my sincere apologies. Yes, she got on the trail safely. No, she did not swallow her pride and accept Pooslinger as her rightful trail name (yep, HER trail name), but instead goes by Tumbleweed. If you ask me, it's a loss in the '07 AT trail name book. Yes, she is still hiking; now a solo adventurist after being abandoned by her partner (that would be me) in Damascus, VA at the close of the Trail Days celebration. No, she has not yet killed any bears with either her bare hands or the very large knife that hangs at her waist (except when she's in town, when she stows it somewhere slightly less threatening). And yes, she will be posting here sometime soon.
See, the thing about having a blog, or trail journal, or other such method of reporting progress to the outside world while on the trail is this: it seems so brilliant and simple. We'll have stories, we'll write them down in our journals, and we'll share them. Let me tell you: step 2 is the hitch. I'm sure that for many hikers, journaling is a daily part of trail life. Wake up early and write as you watch the sun rise; clean up after dinner and write before the sun goes down. Write in your tent or the shelter du jour, by the light of your ever handy head lamp. Take a few minutes during a lunch break to jot down some notes. It would seem, to the casual observer, that a hiker has numerous opportunities each day for this type of chronicle work. Yet here we are-- Memorial weekend-- and this is the first post since the trip's beginning (April 30th, by the way). For now, I'll chalk it up to the following excuses:
1) Tumbleweed sleeps late. I (Backtrack, by the way) woke with the sun almost every day we were on the trail (with the exceptions of days that were drizzly or gray-- no sun to wake up with-- and days spent in hostels or hotels). I stretched and retrieved our food bags from wherever they'd hung the night before. I filtered water, and boiled it for coffee. I made coffee. Sometime around the time the coffee was ready (though a few times it was notably later), Tumbleweed would emerge from the tent. We would eat breakfast and pack-- a process that often consumed a couple of hours (I'm still not sure how)-- and then hit the trail. My excuse for not writing in the mornings: I was making coffee and (on the rare occasion that there was time to kill) reading. Patty's excuse: she was asleep.
2) We often hiked until it was nearly dusk. Owing to the fact that the hours between 8 and 10 am had a twilight zone-esque way of just not existing out on the trail (7:55 doing breakfast dishes. 8am start packing. 10:20am leave camp. What?! We only had one pack apiece. I'm convinced there is a time warp out on the AT that steals what could be the most productive morning hiking hours.), we normally broke for a long(ish) lunch break around 2pm: the middle of our day's mileage. So we'd get into camp and race to set up camp, get water, eat, wash, and hang our food in rapidly dwindling twilight. I think when I was on the trail there were 2 nights we got into camp early enough to actually hang out, and since both of those nights were marked by camp fires, it was more social time than sit-in-a-corner-and-journal time.
3) Hiking makes you tired. This may seem like a point that doesn't really need explanation, but I'm going to do it anyway. On the trail, dark = tent time. And tent time = sleep time. After walking 12 miles with 35 to 40 pounds on our backs, neither of us was normally up for extensive nightime activities. I read a few times, and sometimes we'd get out the cameras and go through our pictures. (Note on pictures: I'll try to post some in the near future, so keep checking.)Other than that, there was really no energy left to expend, and writing coherent thought-- especially in an entertaining style-- does take energy.
4) I lost my pen. Ok, not really. But suffice it to say there were things to do and people to meet, and anything that was jotted down in our journals remained there while we were in town, because laundry and cheeseburgers just took priority over posting on the blog.
But here I am, back in Colorado, while my hiking buddy remains somewhere in the Virginia "wilderness." (One of the things I found most interesting on the AT is that you rarely go a day without crossing a road, and you can easily hit towns twice a week: at least in Georgia and North Carolina.) We jumped ahead over Tennessee and the Smokies, in favor of partying it up, hiker style (your guess on what that means is as good as mine) at the Trail Days in Damascus. (Yes, there was a parade that involved an extensive water fight. Yes, there was a large bonfire, and dancing around it. Yes, we effectively cut 298 miles out of the trip by making this jump: mileage which may or may not be made up after Patty summits Katahdin.)
I have to go now, but I promise there's more to come soon. ("There better be," you're thinking, "because all you did was make excuses for being away. We still don't now how Patty's doing, or who she's meeting, or whether her one pair of pants is holding up. This is the worst update ever!" All valid points, but now that I've got this post out of my system, I can fill you all in on some of what actually did happen/ is happening on the trail.)
In closing, Patty called yesterday (Saturday) and left a message saying that she's doing well, and has been hiking with some fun new people. She's still having fun, and had no complaints or mishaps to speak of (at least not any she felt like explaining in detail on my voicemail). Remember that if you want to leave her a message, just comment on the blog and she'll get to read it eventually. Until next time, keep her in your thoughts, and be a little jealous of what she's doing right now, because I can tell you first hand: life on the trail is good.
For anyone and everone who has been either diligently or casually checking this blog for updates on the famed Patty Weber's Appalachian Trail journey, and has been confused as to why there hasn't been a post in over a month, I offer my sincere apologies. Yes, she got on the trail safely. No, she did not swallow her pride and accept Pooslinger as her rightful trail name (yep, HER trail name), but instead goes by Tumbleweed. If you ask me, it's a loss in the '07 AT trail name book. Yes, she is still hiking; now a solo adventurist after being abandoned by her partner (that would be me) in Damascus, VA at the close of the Trail Days celebration. No, she has not yet killed any bears with either her bare hands or the very large knife that hangs at her waist (except when she's in town, when she stows it somewhere slightly less threatening). And yes, she will be posting here sometime soon.
See, the thing about having a blog, or trail journal, or other such method of reporting progress to the outside world while on the trail is this: it seems so brilliant and simple. We'll have stories, we'll write them down in our journals, and we'll share them. Let me tell you: step 2 is the hitch. I'm sure that for many hikers, journaling is a daily part of trail life. Wake up early and write as you watch the sun rise; clean up after dinner and write before the sun goes down. Write in your tent or the shelter du jour, by the light of your ever handy head lamp. Take a few minutes during a lunch break to jot down some notes. It would seem, to the casual observer, that a hiker has numerous opportunities each day for this type of chronicle work. Yet here we are-- Memorial weekend-- and this is the first post since the trip's beginning (April 30th, by the way). For now, I'll chalk it up to the following excuses:
1) Tumbleweed sleeps late. I (Backtrack, by the way) woke with the sun almost every day we were on the trail (with the exceptions of days that were drizzly or gray-- no sun to wake up with-- and days spent in hostels or hotels). I stretched and retrieved our food bags from wherever they'd hung the night before. I filtered water, and boiled it for coffee. I made coffee. Sometime around the time the coffee was ready (though a few times it was notably later), Tumbleweed would emerge from the tent. We would eat breakfast and pack-- a process that often consumed a couple of hours (I'm still not sure how)-- and then hit the trail. My excuse for not writing in the mornings: I was making coffee and (on the rare occasion that there was time to kill) reading. Patty's excuse: she was asleep.
2) We often hiked until it was nearly dusk. Owing to the fact that the hours between 8 and 10 am had a twilight zone-esque way of just not existing out on the trail (7:55 doing breakfast dishes. 8am start packing. 10:20am leave camp. What?! We only had one pack apiece. I'm convinced there is a time warp out on the AT that steals what could be the most productive morning hiking hours.), we normally broke for a long(ish) lunch break around 2pm: the middle of our day's mileage. So we'd get into camp and race to set up camp, get water, eat, wash, and hang our food in rapidly dwindling twilight. I think when I was on the trail there were 2 nights we got into camp early enough to actually hang out, and since both of those nights were marked by camp fires, it was more social time than sit-in-a-corner-and-journal time.
3) Hiking makes you tired. This may seem like a point that doesn't really need explanation, but I'm going to do it anyway. On the trail, dark = tent time. And tent time = sleep time. After walking 12 miles with 35 to 40 pounds on our backs, neither of us was normally up for extensive nightime activities. I read a few times, and sometimes we'd get out the cameras and go through our pictures. (Note on pictures: I'll try to post some in the near future, so keep checking.)Other than that, there was really no energy left to expend, and writing coherent thought-- especially in an entertaining style-- does take energy.
4) I lost my pen. Ok, not really. But suffice it to say there were things to do and people to meet, and anything that was jotted down in our journals remained there while we were in town, because laundry and cheeseburgers just took priority over posting on the blog.
But here I am, back in Colorado, while my hiking buddy remains somewhere in the Virginia "wilderness." (One of the things I found most interesting on the AT is that you rarely go a day without crossing a road, and you can easily hit towns twice a week: at least in Georgia and North Carolina.) We jumped ahead over Tennessee and the Smokies, in favor of partying it up, hiker style (your guess on what that means is as good as mine) at the Trail Days in Damascus. (Yes, there was a parade that involved an extensive water fight. Yes, there was a large bonfire, and dancing around it. Yes, we effectively cut 298 miles out of the trip by making this jump: mileage which may or may not be made up after Patty summits Katahdin.)
I have to go now, but I promise there's more to come soon. ("There better be," you're thinking, "because all you did was make excuses for being away. We still don't now how Patty's doing, or who she's meeting, or whether her one pair of pants is holding up. This is the worst update ever!" All valid points, but now that I've got this post out of my system, I can fill you all in on some of what actually did happen/ is happening on the trail.)
In closing, Patty called yesterday (Saturday) and left a message saying that she's doing well, and has been hiking with some fun new people. She's still having fun, and had no complaints or mishaps to speak of (at least not any she felt like explaining in detail on my voicemail). Remember that if you want to leave her a message, just comment on the blog and she'll get to read it eventually. Until next time, keep her in your thoughts, and be a little jealous of what she's doing right now, because I can tell you first hand: life on the trail is good.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Time for a trail name
A trail name is important because it is how you are identified on the trail for the entire time out there. It usually has a story behind it or tells a little bit about you. I have been called "sausage fingers" in the past due to the fact that my fingers turn into fat sausage-like links! Mmmhmm. I think that is pretty common for hikers to experience, but mine are just ridiculous. I mean, seriously. I have skinny long fingers and they get to the size of a jumbo Oscar Meyer! Not pretty.
Anyhow, the debate now is weather or not one is 'allowed' to give themselves a trail name? I suppose you can't really give yourself a nickname...but a trail name is different. I am going to be known as "insert trail name here" for the next five months. I think it should be something that I agree upon and like. Sausage fingers....not so much.
I have decided upon 'tumbleweed' for my trail name. A long time ago I had a friend call me by this name. He said it was because I am always moving around and never really in one place for too long. I suppose he is right about that. I'll take it!
Now we just need to think of one for my co-hiking partner, Samantha. This could take a while. She is very enthusiastic about this piece of gear that I have that allows for a relaxing um....bathroom break in the woods! Because of this and several other reasons that are not to be spoken of anymore, her trail name should be......(drum roll please).....'poo-slinger!'
In the words of Stooks- "And that's that!"
-Tumbleweed
Anyhow, the debate now is weather or not one is 'allowed' to give themselves a trail name? I suppose you can't really give yourself a nickname...but a trail name is different. I am going to be known as "insert trail name here" for the next five months. I think it should be something that I agree upon and like. Sausage fingers....not so much.
I have decided upon 'tumbleweed' for my trail name. A long time ago I had a friend call me by this name. He said it was because I am always moving around and never really in one place for too long. I suppose he is right about that. I'll take it!
Now we just need to think of one for my co-hiking partner, Samantha. This could take a while. She is very enthusiastic about this piece of gear that I have that allows for a relaxing um....bathroom break in the woods! Because of this and several other reasons that are not to be spoken of anymore, her trail name should be......(drum roll please).....'poo-slinger!'
In the words of Stooks- "And that's that!"
-Tumbleweed
Monday, April 9, 2007
The way this is gonna work
So how stoked am I that Patty has so enthusiastically adopted this co-blog idea? Very. For her, it'll be a cool way to chronicle this crazy long adventure upon which we embark in less (significantly less) than a month. For me, it will doubtless be one of my greatest sources of amusement during the summer. (Is it lame of me to say that? I don't really care.)
Going along with the theme of recording our preparations for The Trail (see below), I would like to share with the world what I'm doing to ready myself for two weeks of hiking. First off, I bought a backpack. I ordered it last week on Steepandcheap.com (my favorite website/ addiction; check it out if you never have), breaking my Lenten resolution not to buy anything (with the exception of household necessities) until Easter. In my defense, I couldn't not buy the thing. It's an Arc'teryx, it's red, and it was a ridiculously good deal. I'm a bit concerned that the thing might actually be too big; I guess I'll find out when I get it from the post office today. (As I've told Patty, I'm like a goldfish: I'll use as much space as I have at my disposal. If 3 shirts, a towell, and my toothbrush don't fill enough of the pack space, I may well end up taking along something like a basketball or a pair of hooker boots; and who needs those on the AT?)
Other than buying a pack, I also started looking through the thru-hiker's guide, but was (to be honest) more interested in reading the to do lists Patty has scattered through the thing as bookmarks than in reading tips for what to do on day 16 in Tennessee. I did read the book's intro, however, where I learned that it wil basically be a miracle if I don't get poison oak or lyme disease; and that when I'm walking through towns I should act as a pedestrian. Dang! I was going to act like an Australian and walk on the left hand side of the road: the very middle of the left hand side, that is.
Unlike my co-hiker, I have not bought either a sleeping bag or pad, have hardly begun to think about getting together food or cooking apparatus, and don't have a single "to do" list to guide me in my preparations. Somehow, I think I'm going to be ok. My goal for this week was to convince Patty that we should fly to Atlanta; not ride the bus or the train. Not only does the airplane take at least 34 hours less than either of the land-bound alternatives, but it's way less expensive than the train. Have we bought our plane tickets yet? No, but we're planning to, and that's half of the battle, right?
Hiking, here I come!
Going along with the theme of recording our preparations for The Trail (see below), I would like to share with the world what I'm doing to ready myself for two weeks of hiking. First off, I bought a backpack. I ordered it last week on Steepandcheap.com (my favorite website/ addiction; check it out if you never have), breaking my Lenten resolution not to buy anything (with the exception of household necessities) until Easter. In my defense, I couldn't not buy the thing. It's an Arc'teryx, it's red, and it was a ridiculously good deal. I'm a bit concerned that the thing might actually be too big; I guess I'll find out when I get it from the post office today. (As I've told Patty, I'm like a goldfish: I'll use as much space as I have at my disposal. If 3 shirts, a towell, and my toothbrush don't fill enough of the pack space, I may well end up taking along something like a basketball or a pair of hooker boots; and who needs those on the AT?)
Other than buying a pack, I also started looking through the thru-hiker's guide, but was (to be honest) more interested in reading the to do lists Patty has scattered through the thing as bookmarks than in reading tips for what to do on day 16 in Tennessee. I did read the book's intro, however, where I learned that it wil basically be a miracle if I don't get poison oak or lyme disease; and that when I'm walking through towns I should act as a pedestrian. Dang! I was going to act like an Australian and walk on the left hand side of the road: the very middle of the left hand side, that is.
Unlike my co-hiker, I have not bought either a sleeping bag or pad, have hardly begun to think about getting together food or cooking apparatus, and don't have a single "to do" list to guide me in my preparations. Somehow, I think I'm going to be ok. My goal for this week was to convince Patty that we should fly to Atlanta; not ride the bus or the train. Not only does the airplane take at least 34 hours less than either of the land-bound alternatives, but it's way less expensive than the train. Have we bought our plane tickets yet? No, but we're planning to, and that's half of the battle, right?
Hiking, here I come!
The simple (expensive) life of the thru-hiker
One might think that the life of a thru-hiker is pretty simple. Wake up, have some oatmeal, put on your hiking boots, enjoy the scenery, chat with some fellow thru-hikers about how grand life is out on the trail, and hike.....all day, just hike. Well, it should be and I'm banking on WILL be pretty simple, but the preparation for that 'simple life' is nothing but a headache....and expensive.
For the last....we'll say four months I have been seriously planning for the trail. Buying gear, collecting boxes upon boxes for my maildrops, planning out where exactly those boxes are going to be sent, conning...I mean asking someone (thank you Samantha) to send my mail drops, and getting into umm....shape (of some sort). Running is not really the best way to get into thru-hiking shape. My thoughts on that are I am already going to be in some (hopefully not major) pain just getting used to the pack and the boots...so why not get into shape at the same time. AKA....be COMPLETELY miserable for the first couple of weeks.
The simple life is dang expensive too. Imagine, if you will, having to purchase three of the majors-sleeping bag, tent, backpack PLUS all the other stuff that goes along with a long distance hike. Not to mention all of your food for the next five months (bought in bulk). Then the expense of the maildrops. YIKES!
But really, how can I complain? I am going to be out in the wilderness for the next 4.5-5 months. No work, no annoying people in my life (well none that I can't just push off a cliff or something), no worries really. Not too shabby.
Bitchin Gregory Pack- the Deva: $250
New humble abode AKA Mountain Hardware Tent: $109
Incredible sleeping bag that everyone wants to "just touch": $150
Knowing that I will not have to answer any telephone calls, respond to any emails, deal with people in general: priceless
For the last....we'll say four months I have been seriously planning for the trail. Buying gear, collecting boxes upon boxes for my maildrops, planning out where exactly those boxes are going to be sent, conning...I mean asking someone (thank you Samantha) to send my mail drops, and getting into umm....shape (of some sort). Running is not really the best way to get into thru-hiking shape. My thoughts on that are I am already going to be in some (hopefully not major) pain just getting used to the pack and the boots...so why not get into shape at the same time. AKA....be COMPLETELY miserable for the first couple of weeks.
The simple life is dang expensive too. Imagine, if you will, having to purchase three of the majors-sleeping bag, tent, backpack PLUS all the other stuff that goes along with a long distance hike. Not to mention all of your food for the next five months (bought in bulk). Then the expense of the maildrops. YIKES!
But really, how can I complain? I am going to be out in the wilderness for the next 4.5-5 months. No work, no annoying people in my life (well none that I can't just push off a cliff or something), no worries really. Not too shabby.
Bitchin Gregory Pack- the Deva: $250
New humble abode AKA Mountain Hardware Tent: $109
Incredible sleeping bag that everyone wants to "just touch": $150
Knowing that I will not have to answer any telephone calls, respond to any emails, deal with people in general: priceless
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