From a tree stand

I breathed out condensation from my oak-tree. I listened to the sounds of dripping sleet and I watched snowflakes spiral down to earth. I huddled dry and warm against late November’s bite. Archery season was long gone, and I was still in the woods.

I looked downhill; I let my eyes settle on the creek and worked my eyes uphill, into an oak stand and the beginnings of a  thicket. I allowed my eyes to naturally pick up movement against a white-blanket backdrop. To the south the rhododendron thicket thickened, I found gaps and listened, nothing. I moved west. I hid my rifle under my bulky-orange coat, protected the scope from the dripping sky and occupied my mind with daydreams of deer. I saw a flash of a deer, up the hill in the fog. It was gone quick, and I was lucky to see it.  

I sat on the cloud line. The valley below ducked beneath the cloud like a child lying beneath his or her smoke filled his bedroom. Uphill, the trees grew tall into a white-gray cloud of obscurity. I looked for the horizon line; but the forest floor and the between-trees-sky blended into one another. Time drifted by, the ratio of snowflakes to rain rose, and then the rain came back. At three o’clock the weather changed. The precipitation stopped, the cloud rose and a slight breeze from the southwest kicked up. Blue-birds flew around my tree, foraging and beating the cold from their feathered wings.

A red fox appeared; its red-orange coat shone brilliantly against the white snow. I watched as it picked a careful, yet quick path through the rhododendron thicket. I brought my rifle-scope to my eye to watch it more closely. It traveled by instinct from thicket to thicket, peering here, sniffing there. It came right for me and I watched silently, rapt in its natural beauty. When she came within twenty yards I could hear her footsteps in the soft snow. She left the cover of the rhododendrons. She slowed, and climbed onto a downed tree, only five yards away.

The red fox paused, took a step and then she stopped completely on the downed tree. This was the first time I saw her motionless. I noticed her shoulders; I wondered how her orange coat kept her dry and warm. She stuck out her snout and smelled. She took a graceful leap; nose first, front paws curled back, and back legs exploding. Her body curved in a red arc and thump! She landed snout first, buried her face three inches deep in the snow, leaves and forest floor. I heard a squeak, and the fox came up from the underground with a dead mouse in her jaws.

She put the mouse down, crouched low and looked around. She focused onto my boot-prints at the base of my tree, and then she looked up; right at me. Only then did I notice my mouth was hanging open. We held eye contact for a moment and then she looked back at her prey, and slowly backed away. She glanced at me again and then the mouse, she kept backing away. Not wanting to leave, not to waste food, not after a successful hunt; but she had to choice. The fox didn't run, but it reluctantly abandoned her prize at my feet, backed away and then turned for cover.

I wore an orange coat, but the real hunter went away and I was left sitting in a tree with a gun and trying to understand something I never will. 

Fiction: Goodnight Irene

“Okay, thanks for the call, you stay dry, and we’ll see you in a few days.” Sarah tucked her frizzy damp hair behind her ear and turned her attention back to the kitchen. The bean and vegetable stew was bubbling and it gave the farm house a pleasant aroma. The bread was being reheated in the oven and two jams already sat on the table. Sarah finished off her drink and poured another.

The door swung open; Maya, Jake and Arrow bustled inside. Maya’s red hair was wet, curly and cut short. She hung her raincoat on a hook and slipped out of her muck boots. Arrow followed Jake into the far-room; they left a muddy trail across the hardwood floor.
 “That’s a hell of a rain,” Maya greeted.
 “I just got off the phone with Val, she said River’s floodin’ right now up in Selinsgrove.”
 “Shit…How bad is it?”Without washing, Maya threw the Swiss chard and Kale into a bowl and set it on the table.
 “Too early to tell; that’s where the Garber’s folks are from, they live right on the River…along with the rest of the town.” Sarah stared out the window and listened to the pounding rain; Maya finished setting the table for dinner.
“How’d the truck run today?” Sarah looked at Maya as she asked.
“Same as last time, second gear is missing and it smells hot.” Maya paused; smiled, “and the windshield’s still cracked; still no insurance.”
Sarah chuckled. “Want a drink? The bottle still has plenty.”
“Not a chance staying dry tonight,” Maya poured a drink. “I hope the folks upriver are safe. Have you been down to look at her?”
“Yeah, I walked down about an hour ago. It’s higher than I’ve ever seen. How’d we do at market today?” Sarah changed the subject.
“The eggs and the mesclun mixes sold out; not much else sold, slow from the rain I guess. Oh, and Richard says Hi.”
 “How is he doing?” “He’s worried about our place tonight, JAKE!” Maya called to the other room; “TIME FOR DINNER!...He might come over tonight to help out.”
“It’ll be past his bedtime.” Sarah smiled.
“Anything from the road today?
“A few quarts of the romas and three jams.” Did you remember to pick up Arrow’s eye meds?”
“Shit, I forgot; I’ll grab it tomorrow, do we need anything else at the vets?”
“No,” Sarah took a drink of whiskey, and the rain fell hard.

Outside the west window the green hills ran down to a swelling brown-river. No trains were running. To the south lay the Mason Dixon Line and the River lazily twisted its way to the Chesapeake Bay. 50 miles north, the ridges and valleys of the Pennsylvania Appalachian Mountains soaked up the hard rain. On the land-side of the tracks grew three acres of organic vegetables, and 50-some hens did their best to stay dry. The rain brought a relentless pounding, and the River slowly rose. The family ate and drank quickly; steam escaped from the pot and Arrow sat by the door with anxiety. The spouting carried the water off the house and downhill, toward the River.

“Jim dropped off the bales and sandbags this afternoon; he could barely get up the lane with an empty load.” Sarah dipped her bread in the stew. “I figure we’ll be down there most of the night. I better make more coffee.” She tightened her lips and showed her forehead wrinkles.
“You don’t think it will rise over the...?” Maya whispered.
“It never has before,” Sarah took a breath. “Jake how was your day?”
“Uh, good, Mr. Jacobs said it hasn’t rained this much in 50 years. Is that true?”
“Could be, it’s not done yet” Sarah replied
“He also said that school will be called if the roads flood,” mentioned Jake, caught somewhere between excitement and fear.
“Good, we could use some help around here,” joked Maya. The lights flickered off then on again.
“Jake would you please red off the table and wash up?” Sarah asked and stood up, “I need to grab some candles, and then you’re Mom and I will need to head down to the fields in a bit.” Jake nodded; and asked. “Is it gonna flood?”
 Sarah and Maya held eye contact for a brief moment; Maya answered, “We don’t know, honey. It depends on how the River rises, but we could be down there late, you and Arrow can look after the house. If the electricity goes out, there are candles on the mantle… Make sure they’re out when you go to bed.”
“Okay” She hugged him.

Sarah and Maya put on their raincoats and boots and walked down the hill to the River.

out and back; Montana pt. 1

Westbound
I piled my belongings on my '83 Virago, and I turned the choke to full. Bigger than trace amounts of doubt raced through my helmet-head as I rode across the Susquehanna River. I had no clue how long fate and motorcycle mechanics would allow this trip to last, but it was time to find out.

The first afternoon my battery died after filling up at the station. The next morning, after the third jump, I found an Auto-zone, and installed a new battery. I was in Ohio. I bought a spoon at a Goodwill and I told the cashier, "this will make eating a lot easier," and it did.

I learned that the riding experience and level of enjoyment depended on a few key variables: 1. the weather 2. the type of road/traffic 3. the scenery. With my 2006 road atlas I searched for old highways across the forgettable middle states. Every night I looked for woodlands, fields, parks, state forests or national forests to quietly rest. I have adequate experience in the art of stealth camping  and I believe I have mastered it. Being on a roadbike made it more difficult, but presented me opportunities for creative camping. With a combined total of 4 weeks on the road, I camped every night, paid for only two campsites, and was never caught poaching a site.

I caught two trout off dry flies in Minnesota and South Dakota was packed full of pheasants. Badlands National Park introduced me to the beautiful landscapes of the west, which I would I enjoy all summer long. North Dakota's howling wind blew my bike onto its side as I took a piss, and its gas industry depressed me. I loved Montana from the moment I rolled my tires under its open spaces and big skies. I reminisced sadness in Browning with the early morning drunks and meth-heads.I arrived in East Glacier Park, MT after nine days on the road, eight nights in my tent and 2,700 miles on the bike. The mountains looked great and within three hours I was hiking in them. Time for summer!

Motorcycling

Today I will hop on my 1983 Yamaha Virago 500 and ride North and West. I am riding for Montana; wish me adventure, fair weather and safety!

"What do we leave behind when we cross each frontier? Each moment seems split in two; melancholy for what was left behind and the excitement of entering a new land" ~ Ernesto 'ChÈ' Guevara

first step toward home

Puerto Montt, Chile

I will miss catching the boat to Tenglo and picking apples in the rain to a backdrop of fjords, mountains and bay. The people here are great and I am thankful for their hospitality and love. Chilenos (del Sur) heat their homes (and many times cook with) wood stoves. The town, therefore, holds a layer of drifting woodsmoke close to its rooftop bosom. The rain rains most days this time of here. I have a renewed interest in boats, home-brewing, fishing and old growth forests. I want to see my family.

The rain is falling, I am looking out a big window at Isla Tenglo with a mug of hot tea. Puerto Montt drifts by with sounds of rattling buses, splitting wood and barking dogs. I am listening to M. Ward's Wasteland Companion album and today is my last day in Puerto Montt.This four-week stay has been characterized by familial warmth, resulting in weight-gained and a restored spirit for travel. I am going home with an old-man full belly, a mustache, and a head full of fresh ideas.

Glacier National Park has 730 miles of hiking trails. Just sayin.

Assorted: from the Road

Colca Canyon

March 27, 2012

Rain on the roof last night, I slept well. I dreamt of a soccer game...very detailed play-by-play, and vivid. I guess I miss playing soccer. Bright sunshine and a mango for breakfast. I also bought a palta sx, which was small and disappointing. I left my books with Villa Pastor Hostel then hiked down to the canyon. Great, great hiking. dry cliffs, soaring condors, waterfalls, rivers, geysers, cactus fruit, villages, European hikers, trail crew, and a lonesome horseback rider. I found the bottom and walked up and around to try and find Catarata Huaruro. I missed a turn and hiked an extra three fourths of a mile or so. Not a big deal. Fure was an incredible find. An isolated, indigenous town surrounded by waterfalls and nothing much else, an agrarian gem in the deepest canyon in the world. Onward I walked to the great falls and into the jungle biome.  Loud and thunderous, it started to rain as I set up the tent. Still haven't got it quite down yet, but snug in the growth I sleep.

Arequipa

Stray-dog sex
populating streets
Gulf Oil doors swinging
the wind; flies on my leg

Inca-Cola water towers
bubbling downhill
I sit with the strays
waiting my ticket to leave

Newt, Rick and Mitt
quarreling fuel prices
do jobs summit society?
selling souls and VW buses

taking a shit
on overgrown railroad tracks
high weeds fighting exhaust fumes
el Misti Mountain backstory

Tacna

I'm sure Tacna is a lovely town, with many charming hamlets, sights and peoples. I will always remember Tacna, however, for a very different reason.  I found a hospedaje with a private, working bathroom and an endless supply of toilet paper, and stayed there for two and half days. I ate bread and drank water and visited the toilet about 12 times a day.

3 People I met in the Atacamba Desert

Dutch-Girl who says, "If you look long enough at the stars out here you'll see UFO's." Belgian-Mountain -Climber who lives in his VW bus, parked under a shade tree, with his 4 year old hippie child. Santiago-Born-Painter (boyfriend of Dutch Girl) who smokes a lot of Bolivian weed and lives in a tent.

The Pitcher of Beer

I performed my usual bus station routine in Santiago; eating, waiting, thirty minutes at the online cafe. As I checked all out three floors, something caught my eye. A deal: $8.50 for a large portion of fries and an entire pitcher of beer. I don't normally drink a lot while backpacking but I had a few reasons to in this instance: 1. This was my last day I could drink for a month, since I'd be living with my Uncle (who is a missionary) and I told him I wouldn't drink in his house. 2. Santiago marked the end of my independent, and completely solo travels in South America. 3. I was taking the overnight bus, and I would sleep lot better intoxicated.... So I sat there alone in a cafeteria, not a bar, with a huge plate of fries and a towering pitcher of beer. The lady eyed me with suspicion when she asked,"Cuantos vasos?" "Un vaso por favor," I replied. All to myself! I reached into my bag to snap a quick picture, just in case I would forget this part of my day, but it occured to me I had already forgot something. My camera! I searched frantically through everything, which is only about 10 things and to my dismay, nada. Panic, fear and irony all swept through my sober mind. A full pitcher sat before me and my camera remained on my previous bus, which I had abandoned three hours earlier. I would have to ask my way through the bus company's system to locate the specific bus, in my terrible spanish, and now I was going to do it drunk. Because if there is one thing I won't do, it is waste a perfectly good pitcher of cold beer. I drank and I drank and I drank fast. My brain freeze was followed by more gulps of cold beer and eventually drunkeness, which was followed by frantic a search. I took two lime wedges from the condiments table, I chewed them to hide my beer breath. By the end of my innebriated mission, I had talked with numerous TurBus offices, searched three different bus lots, ridden two trains and one laundry truck, ran atleast 10 blocks, and ended up completely sober and without my camera. I left the address, and the phone number of my temporary residence in Puerto Montt if the camera ever turns up. I was on my night-bus: hot, sweaty, sober and tired. 

Patagonia, Argentina

Hitchhiking with a box-wine-drinking and jovial driver, and some of the most beautiful, wild and wondrous mountains in the world!

Ausangate Circuito

March 18-22

The Ausangate Circuit trail presented some of the most beautiful, challenging and wondrous landscapes I have ever experienced. The lack of a trail marking (eg: blaze), guide, and a detailed map made the trail difficult to follow, but presented a great opportunity to practice my alpine zone orientation skills. Most of the time I was asking myself if the trail I was hiking was the trail, or an alpaca path. The great thing, was that it did not really matter. I had plenty of food, and the mountains were awesome from an alpaca path or the actual trail. The high passes were stunning and headache inducing, but the coca-leaf remedy was adequate in its purposes. The sky hailed three times, but the new Marmot tent kept me warm and dry. Off to Arequipa and the Colca Canyon...

Machu Picchu

March 9, 2012


Machu Picchu reminded me of Peter Pan. As a child Peter Pan was all that I wanted: A fictional place called Never-Never Land, lost boys, sleeping in trees, food fights, flying, crowing, fairies and fighting pirates (I guess the whole orphan part of it never really hit me that hard). Machu Picchu hit me the same way, except it is real! At least I think it is. The clouds hung around all day, which gave the whole site the ¨"mystical experience" that Peru Rail was effectively selling. The jungle reminded me of the movie Jumanji, taking over everything at a farcical rate of speed. Unfortunately they do not hand out machetes at the gate.

The day began with a 5:00 AM wake up call with Catie and Andrea (shout out). A winding drive over the Urabamba River and up through the clouds brought us to my Never-Never Land. Huaynu Picchu was up first, this mountain is commonly recognized as the impossibly steep mountain in the background of all Machu Picchu pictures. The mountain was a holy mountain to the Inca, and had a ceremonial purpose. I found it holy in its own way- "holy shit, this is incredible."  We hiked down to Temple of the Moon, and the Gran Caverna; the cloud forest was intriguing and teeming with life at every angle.

After a hardy lunch of avocado, rolls, tuna, bananas and peach juice; it was time to tackle Machu Picchu. Thanks to my dad, I was carrying the archaeological field guide to the entire site. We went ruin to ruin, all-the-while reading aloud and ever-constantly being amazed by the architects and stone masons of the Inca. I particularly found the fountains and the temple of the sun complex stunning. I constantly lost myself in one room or building, only then to look up over the valley and remember where I was. A rainbow appeared toward the end of the day. Andrea and I took the trail back down to Machu Picchu Pueblo, it was a great day. Over twelve hours in total, but not a hint of fatigue. I´ll throw up some of Andrea´s pictures when I get the chance.

Lima -Cusco

03·07·2012

To start off a two month trip overseas, there is nothing like hearing the words, "we can´t let you fly"...Somehow I made it out of New Jersey alive. I missed my first flight but after some finagling with the airline, I was able to board a plane leaving the U.S. Apparently you need proof of exiting the country, before you go to Peru. The local buses don´t sell tickets online, so this was difficult.

Barranco, Lima
I spent three sun-bleached days in Barranco, Lima. I could see the Pacific from the window in my bunk-room (and from the shower). I made friends with the local artisans selling handmade jewelry,  and marvelled at my fellow travelers´ endurance for casinos and new tattoos. The sunsets over the Pacific were great. I talked a good deal with Vincent, a man from Maine who has been living in a rural Andean village for the past 12 years. The architecture here is heavily influenced by the Spanish; balconies and courtyards abounding.

Lima-Cusco
I fell asleep watching the sunset over the Pacific. Dramatic cliffs, abandoned beaches and arid desert dominated the landscape. I was cruising on the second deck (front row) of my bus from Lima to Cusco. I  rarely enjoy 24-hour long bus rides, but Peru kept me fascinated. The road wound itself into a tangle as it clamoured over and through the Peruvian Andes. "A puncture" as the British lady called it, kept us off the road for an hour or so; but no major hiccups. There were many boulders that had found a home in the middle of the road, but the bus driver rightfully gained my confidence.

San Blas, Cusco
Of the many wondrous nuances in Cusco, I am intrigued by living at 10,000 feet, the narrowness of the sidewalks, and how a shoe-shiner can offer to shine my flip-flops. I love being in cities designed for the foot traffic, not the car. For my week here I am living with Jimmy and dos niños: Irvin and Jose. We play fusebol, eat meals together and watch the Champions League (tough one Arsenal). I enrolled in a Spanish School for one week; my head hurts afterwards but it´s for the best. On Sunday I took a walk north of the city to the Inca ruins to Saqsaywaman, Qénqo, Puka Pukara and Tambomachay. The ruins were astounding and I´m excited to see more!

Tomorrow morning I will begin the next leg of my journey, and barring no landslides, I´ll be looking up at Machu Picchu Mountain by mid-afternoon. I am meeting up with two new friends, Catie and Andrea, and I hope they´ll take pictures for me at Machu Picchu. I forgot my camera, and it is currently lost somewhere in the mail.

"Aqui no hay mas complices que tu y yo; tu por opresor, y yo por liberator, merecemos la muerte"
- Tupaq Amaru II

Departure

" If our lives are dominated by a search for happiness, then perhaps few activities reveal as much about the dynamics of this quest- in all its ardour and paradoxes- then our travels. They express, however inarticulately, an understanding of what life might be about, outside of the constraints of work and of the struggle for survival. Yet rarely are they considered to present philosophical problems-that is, issues requiring thought beyond the practical. We are inundated with advice on where to travel to, but we hear little of why and how we should go, even though the art of travel seems naturally to sustain a number of questions neither so simple nor so trivial, and whose study might in modest ways contribute to an understanding of what the Greek philosophers beautifully termed eudaimonia, or "human flourishing"

-Alain de Botton, The Art of Travel, 9

"It never gets cold way down here.

I can live off of watermelons and beer.

and I'll never go hungry; I will never go home.

never call to my lover, "lover, leave me alone."

 -Phosphorescent, South of America

I'll try to keep the blog updated when I'm out and about, until then...

Voy a Peru, Chile y Argentina!  

Southbound.

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August 5-October 2, 2011 

Hop 

Excerpts from my journal

Day 82 August 11, 2011, PA, MD, WV, VA

The moon and stars above Pen Mar Park were bright and beautiful. I, however, could not fall asleep. Pesky teenagers kept making noise in the park until 12 or 1 and the trains running the mason dixon line chugged by every two hours. I was laying on my tarp feeling itchy and sweaty. Once I finally did fall asleep I was awoken by the obnoxious sounds of a couple having sex only 30 yards away from me. This is not how I wanted to start my big day...At 1:45 AM I decided to give up on sleep and just start hiking. I made my way back to the MD line and started out. The first few miles were rocky, slow and frustrating. I did not think I was gonna be able to do the 4-state 50 mile day. Throughout the dark morning I started to feel a bit better. The shining stars, and setting full moon really picked up my spirits. By 5:45 I had done 10 miles, and right there I set a schedule for the rest of the day. 10 miles for every 4 hours. 6-10 AM, 10-2 PM, 2-6 PM and 6-10 PM. If I followed this pace I would finish the day. It became my goal to shave off a little time with each 10 mile section. All throughout the day I saw animals: 4 fawns, 2 buck, 8 doe, 2 goats (wild?), and a screech owl. By the end of my 3rd section I had shaved off a full hour and had walked through Mt. Vernon Park and some very historic sections (Civil War battlefields...etc). I started to feel a bit delirious and out of it during my 4th leg, but when I hit Harpers Ferry well before 5, I was encouraged. I ate a filling supper and sat at a picnic table to rest. I popped a few Ibuprofen for my feet and crossed the Shenandoah River. The last 9 miles in WV and Virginia were not bad except for a few rocky sections. I hit my destination, David Lesser Memorial Shelter at 8:35 PM. Just at dark. Now I rest. Hiking 50 miles is a long day. Welcome to VA!

Day 89 August 18, VA

The rat! I heard scurrying in the night and I was pretty sure the culprit was bigger than a mouse. So during one of my pee breaks I took a look and found him. A rat! The size of a small cat. It actually was kind of cute. Other than that I slept really well...BUT I awoke to a sock missing. A rat and a sock thief. I was scared I would be down a sock, but after 10 minutes of searching I found it tucked in a crack on the upper level of the shelter- phew. I didn't leave the shelter until 10 or so because I thought I was only doing 13 today. I took another long lunch break and started hiking on when I decided, why not do 20 into Waynesboro, then a 5 tomorrow instead of a 12 and a 13. So I decided at about 3 PM to book it. I saw 2 bears today and one nice 8 point. I left Shenandoah and the manicured trail behind. I met a NOBO about to flip flop, got a ride into Waynesboro with a political ranter from Mr. D's old school in Charlottesville. I showered at the YMCA and visited the public library. I slept on a park bench behind the YMCA. A good day. I'm glad I decided to go to town because I would have been bored doing a 13 on a beautiful day, plus the shower felt great, first one since August 4th!

Day 102 August 31, VA 

I woke up early for the big day, 34 miles to Chestnut Knob Shelter. High Life, " you are doing 34? well I guess I will come with you." Great. I passed Harvey's Mill Shelter by 9:45 and banged out 15 miles by noon. We were flying. The trail was flat, easy and followed a lot of forest roads for the first part of the day. I lunched at Laurel Creek (site of an infamous trail murder) and filled up my water bottles. From here on out, 14.8 miles remaining, the trail turned pretty tough. The climbs were steep and had rugged footing. I saw a large rattler about 5 feet off the trail and also saw plenty of deer. I came down into Walker Gap, tired, out of water, and ready to be finished for the day. I took the trail to a spring but the spring was completely dry. I walked out to the road to look for another source and HL, but no one or water was around. I ran back to the spring to dry and dig, but no luck. All I could find was puddles on the road, water laying in the deep mud tracks of a truck. I took it, I had to other choice. I filtered the mud water with my bandanna but my water bottles still looked like the Conestoga after a good rain. I was completely pissed off and had to climb another 1,000 feet of elevation to a shelter, which had no water source. I treated the water I had and tried not to think of getting Guardia. The shelter had a great view of the sunset and stars, but I struggled to enjoy them.

 Day 123 September 23, TN/NC

I slept well through the rain. I'm surprised that it has not been colder up here in the Smokies during my time. I'm thankful for that because of how wet it has been. I headed for Fontanta Dam expecting it to be downhill and dry. The day however was a tougher hike than I expected. My body, mainly toes, were in pain as I went up and down the whole way into Fontana. I also hit a hard downpour about midway through the morning. I saw one bear up in a tree. A lot of day hikers were hiking toward Shuckstack fire tower and kept asking me how far? how long? 123 days and 2,000 + miles was what I wanted to say. I just said about a mile to every one of them. I made my way down to the Fontana Dam and visitors center around noon. A damn big dam. As I took off my boots, William came out to talk to me. He offered me a ride into the village, which I heartily accepted. Him and his wife were very kind. I recharged at the F.D. village Gen'l store, laundromat, restaurant/ grill. I had a great BBQ sandwich and washed it down with a Southern Tier Double IPA and two Yuenglings. Best beer on the trail. I dried my culprit wet socks by the quarter fed machines. My shuttle back was 3 dollars. I got a free shower then hung out at the Hilton Shelter. I got a nice fire started and read comics. A good end to the day, 13.8 miles hiked

 Day 131 October 2, GA

A hungover morning. Pounding head but the hot fire is a cure. Weed and rum in excess the night before and 8 miles from the end. Legs moving and more food donations from Kinder helped me on my way. Solar Joe and Steve are gonna drop off beer for me at the base of Springer Mountain. I reached waterfalls, small creeks meandering through rhododendron groves and cute shelters. I passed a family-they gave me licorice. Others talked to me. "How long have you been hiking?" They couldn't believe I was soon finishing and neither could I, to be frank. I reached the Springer Mountain forest road a bit after high noon. I found a note and 2 other campers--both of which pointed me to the beer hidden behind a big old oak tree. I threw it on my back and climbed the last 1.1 miles of the entire Appalachian Trail. The final mountain was not much of a mountain. Sunday afternoon, so groups of day hikers were canoodling around. I blended in, thankfully. I touched it. I walked it. the whole way. Maine, 2000 miles. Had I? I didn't feel like I could brag, or be exuberant...It was too deep and significant. It was the end and I was a little scared of regular living. I stayed on top of Springer for 3 1/2 hours. I chatted with some, drank some beers, took pictures, napped and thought of my journey. I threw my walking stick off Springer Mountain. I thanked it and I cried, my maple-wood companion. Before too long, I was alone and retracing my steps. I was picked up around 4 by Hiker Hostel. I knew I could sleep, shower, drink and eat well, but what does it matter?

Northbound.

May 10-July 24, 2011

Hop, Bot and Still Smiling
Excerpts from my journal

Day 3. May 12, PA
A dry and brisk night last night. We set out North around 9:30 (est.) I ate a clif bar and fruit snack. Had my first poop of the trail today.  We passed near Hawk Mtn. and hiked 11 miles to Allentown shelter. We met "Lone Wolf McQuaid" (A criminal on the run and a creepy guy). He admitted to being a convicted thief and then asked Dan how much money he had on him. We left shortly after, amused and a little frightened. We stopped at Blue Mtn. Summit B&B for a water refill and face wash. We hiked up across highway 309 until knife's edge and Bear Rocks. Knife's edge was a scary ridge-hike-scramble-climb. We dropped packs at Bear's Rocks. Around 19 miles today. 3rd straight of sunshine! I don't expect this to keep up. We had a small bug-preventing fire and a few jolly laughs over dinner. There is another group camping nearby. No cloud in the sky, no fly!

Day 7. May 16, NJ

Last night stormed and rained like hell. Lightening and thunder kept me awake for a good part of the night. Water got Dan and I pretty good and I ended up having to put on my raincoat in the tent; never a good scenario. We woke up and did the best we could. Sunfish Pond was the first stop on today's rainy hike. It is the southern-most glacier lake in the US (according to Lis). The fog made the lake very mysterious. I ran into the hiker from Gerogria and the motorcycle. His name is McCord. Also today I hiked mainly alone, out in front of the others. Great wildflowers but the lookouts were just cloud walls. The forecast is rain all week. Hopefully our spirits stay high. We hiked 20 miles until Brink Road Shelter. Finally a dry night! The rain does still fall outside the walls, tomorrow we'll take a lighter day and stop in for some groceries.


Day 28 June 6, MA
Today is Josh's birthday. A splendid day for hiking and to be out in the wild. I took a naked swim in Benedict Pond. Hammer saw me drying off on a rock and told me there were some young kids on the other side of the lake watching me skinny-dip. Oh well. I saw raccoons, snakes and otters today. I hiked up Wilcox peak and down to Shaker Campsite. Hammer came on by, he is a really kick ass senior hiker. He shared many stories and charm. Makes me think of the joy of the hiking and this lifestyle. He will will hike for this month then head up to N.H. to camp. He shared tons of trail and resupply knowledge with us. He loved N.H. and Maine. Got me really excited for the rest of the trip. He said when he hiked thru he just wanted to keep going. He spends a month in N.H. giving out trail magic, reminds me of Dennis. 16 miles hiked today. Also met stretch and zipper and MorAbraham. Good all around night for talk.


Day 50 June 29, NH

Ethan Pond morning-cold, cloudy and beautiful. We ate early to make sure we hit Lake of the Coulds Hut in time for a work-for-stay. We hiked 3 easy miles down to Crawford Notch, A huge mtn. (Webster) stared us right in the face. The trail skirted rt. 302 and headed up to Webster Cliffs Trail. The valley looked very majestic. The weather is cloudy, windy but warm. The climb was steep up to the "Prezi Ridge" as the crews and caretakers call it. We took lunch at Mizpah Hut and the crew told us we should have good luck with work at lake of the clouds hut. The second half to today's hike were some of the best views and miles of the trip so far. the weather, perfect. the views, for miles and miles. I even found the campsite Josh and I used 4 years earlier. We took many pictures and savored the views above the tree line. We arrived at LOTC Hut around 3 PM and successfully got work for stay. Lis and I cleaned out their refrigerators and washed dishes for a night and a meal. The best on trail meal of the trip so far. All we could eat, ham, homemade bread, tomato soup, guacamole, chips, salad, peas, sun dried tomatoes, pies, pizza, coffee. Wow, unbeatable. 

Day 55 July 4, ME
The Mahoosucs and Maine. Maine welcomed us with open whiskey bottles and beautiful mountains. We hiked 16 tough miles through lakes, alpine zones, and valleys. We all took a sip of whiskey at the border. One state left! We camped right in front of the Mahoosuc Notch. "The longest mile on the AT"  and I'm pretty excited for it tomorrow.
Trail Magic- GORP on top of East Peak; jungle-gym mountain and a wind blown beautiful landscape. My boot developed a tear in the outer-edge (right boot) I'm keeping my eye on it and hoping it doesn't grow. < 281 miles to go.

Day 64 July 13, ME
Last night storms threatened so we quick threw on the fly. Luckily they held off. We opted not to do the pancake breakfast at Harrisons. We hiked 3.7 miles to the Kennebec River and caught the canoe ferry which only runs 9-11 this time of year. The river is said to rise 2-4 feet without warning because of a dam upstream. A brief road crossing and then 5 flat buggy miles to Pleasant Pond. Dan and I walked down to a quiet pond for lunch. Only to be interrupted by a loud and obnoxious group of 8th graders. Splashing , yelling and everything annoying ensued. The climb up Pleasant Pond Mtn. wasn't bad, it was nice to feel like I was back in the mountains. Maine is beautiful. The lakes are everywhere; crystal clear and expansive. I love hiking lake to lake. Dan and Lis pumped as I found a perfect (bug free) campsite. The fire is burning under the pines. Met a couple and 2 dogs by Moxie Lake. They said there is a history teaching position open @ the local high school.

Day 75 July 24, ME
Up at 5. Pop tart for breakfast and time to summit. I hike d out front, passing the day hikers around Katadhin Stream Falls. The morning was cool-perfect for hiking. We met up at the boulder field. The edges were steep and a bit scary. We all talked about how our parents would fare on the same hike. The weather was Alpine; cold, windy and cloudy. It was still around 8 AM because we started hiking around 6:20. Sharp boulders and hand hold climbing made me happy just to have a day-pack on. I felt strong. We hiked into the clouds and before long the silhouette of Katadhin's peak. The Northern Terminus at last! A rush of emotion and of course no words could come. The sky stayed cloudy for us 3 at the top. We tried to wait for families but it was too too cold I hiked down to find Mom, Dad, Emily and Temple just into the alpine zone. I hiked back up to the summit as the sky cleared. It was beautiful- great views of knife's edge and the 100 mile wilderness. I wish Dan and Lis would have been there to see it. It was fun to hike with the family. Dad and Emily were super excited and tired. 

straggling behind water
no interesting facts to tell
I swear too many times
and listen to more times to the yell

I hear voices in the brook
Why are they always elusive?
turn my head; not by choice
fire tonight or just stars?

simplicity to the point of fear
well in over my head
miles this, miles that
too far behind and too far ahead

a pounding drum talks to me
a foreign war wages somewhere
but here is now and
I'm quiet, peace is near