Vermont Magic

Everything you can imagine happening on the AT happened to me yesterday. It's what I imagined to be a normal day on the trail but the truth is that most days on the trail are grueling monotony. 

Anyway, yesterday we started at Kid Gore shelter with a few other hikers and enjoyed the sunrise over the tall Green Mountains of Vermont. The morning hike was the usual affair of intense sweat, mosquitoes and mud. After about 6 miles we did hit trail magic as a fellow thru hiker Sandman is slack packing while he is close to home (more on this in a minute).

Slack packing is when you hike with only a small day pack and get picked up and dropped on the trail daily. It makes hiking much easier with only a few pounds instead of the usual 30-35. Sandman's mom who is shuttling between locations to slack is also leaving cooler full of goodies like fruit, cupcakes, and cold coke. We've recently come to the consensus that there is no trail magic better than an ice cold coke. 

Back to yesterday though. I grabbed a coke and headed up Stratton mountain, the tallest mountain the AT traverses in Vermont and at the top Garfunkel and I saw a young (yet huge) moose relaxing in the shade. We also went up the lookout tower on top and viewed the hazy green mountains all around us. 

We then headed down Stratton and had lunch with Ned (from Wales), Logan, and Big Daddy. Shortly after we went swimming at Stratton pond. Most ponds around here have been the color of iced tea but Stratton was a rare exception. 

We then headed to the shelter past as the usual 4 o'clock thunder began rumbling. I saw a bear taking off down the mountain (still no picture, they move quick!) and about 10 seconds after the rain began falling in sheets we ran into Spruce Mountain shelter. Spruce is one of the nicer shelters we've stayed at with windows, a door, a wood stove, and porch. 

All considered it was perhaps one of the best days of my life. I swam in a mountain lake, climbed a few mountains, appreciated the joy of an ice cold coke, saw a moose and bear, got caught in a thunderstorm moments before enjoying a hot cup of tea on the porch, and went up a lookout tower. The trail has its drudgery but the good times are unimaginably good. 

We also got the privilege to stay with Sandman at his house in Massachusetts a few nights before. His mom met us at the trailhead with a cold coke and a big smile. We drove for about an hour as Wingmom, her chosen trail angel name, treated us to more cold drinks and snacks. The house itself is situated on a gorgeous campus where D.L. Moody is buried but the real treat was the constant stream of generosity to which we were subjected. There was tea, pulled pork, AC, thick blankets, and lots of love. We left the next morning considerably cleaner, fuller, and with BLTs in our packs for lunch. If you're reading this Wingmom, thanks again for everything. 

Since our last update we've also gone over Greylock Mountain, and had a run in with a very angry overnight camper. Long story short, some fool set up a 2 person tent in a 8 person shelter and abandoned it for at least 11.5 hours. Eventually a full group of thru hikers arrived and moved the tent to a flat spot. It's bad etiquette to set up a tent in a shelter, let alone hogging the whole shelter and leaving for hours. At 2am the owner returned very upset and yelled at us until Logan, a tall muscular guy covered in tattoos decided to spearhead our cause and told the guy off. 

Not much else has happened. We entered Vermont and started the portion of the trail that overlaps with the Long Trail and Garfunkel broke his trekking pole. It's rained every afternoon here, and the next week is supposed to be even wetter. Next stop Hanover New Hampshire. 

Oh, we also met Matt, a hiker trying to break the unsupported speed record for the AT: about 60 days. We just crossed 75% yesterday and he's on track to do it, which means he was at Katahdin 15 days ago. We still have a little more than a month. 

100 Days

A month and a half ago, sweating and burning on the top of three ridges mountain in mid Virginia, White Flash told Garfunkel and I that we had no more climbs like that until Massachusetts. We are now in Massachusetts about to start operation catch White Flash over Mount Greylock, the highest point in the state and a foreboding reminder to north bound hikers the hardest sections of the trail are still ahead. 

Even with Greylock menacing us we managed to have a brilliant past few days. The weather cooperated and we continued to catch up to friends from Pennsylvania like Sconnie and Gummi Bear. 

Probably the best things that have happened to us since I last updated you in Connecticut are upper goose pond cabin and Tom the the trail angel here in Dalton MA. 

Upper Goose Pond is an Appalachian Mountain Club cabin run on donations and by weekly caretakers. Hikers stay free on mattresses upstairs, eat pancakes in the morning, and can swim and use the canoes. Small wonder a dozen hikers showed up there that night. We got there for lunch and then canoed around the pond. The pond was pristine (of course) and Garfunkel showed off his construction knowledge while we observed the lake houses dotting the banks (his ability to classify shingles at 100 yards is impressive). We got a little burnt on our voyage but given the persistent mud and bugs (my skin is 1/3 sweat, 1/3 squashed mosquito, and 1/3 deet) it was a nice change of sensation. 

Once we arrived in Dalton and checked into our hotel we were bombarded by trail magic from trail angel Tom whose house is literally on the AT (the trail runs on the sidewalk for a bit here). Not only did Tom shuttle us back from Walmart and do our laundry, he put out an amazing spread for 7 hungry hikers on the first day of summer. 

Oh, and I walked about 8 inches next to a very agitated copperhead the other day. When me and Passin' Thru (a hiker from Pittsburgh with a wicked accent) tried moving him from the trail with sticks he bit the sticks before taking off. 

Next stop Manchester Center Vermont.

Hello from Connecticut

It's been a while, we know. First I've got to apologize for the frequent and confusing auto-corrects my phone does for these posts. For some reason it has the insane urge to make present tense past and other arbitrary changes. 

Since our last post we took about a week off in Pittsburgh while Garfunkel's brother got married. I mostly sat on a couch and ate the entire time and spent some much needed time with friends. 

We got back on the trail a week later after another 20 hour bus ride and night spent at Port Authority in New York. The next few days were very similar to our first days on the trail in Georgia. We groan and ache all over and are meeting dozens of new people. We have also re-countered Patch, Sophie (the dog), 180, Oz, and silent jay all hikers we met as early as Hiawassee and hiked with until about mid Virginia. Other hikers we hoped to see again are still behind. 

The terrain in New York was a hodgepodge of rocky hog back ridges, open and grassy mountain meadows, and frequent 60-70 foot ups and downs. The most memorable part of the trail since getting back has been the mud though: the trail is covered with it and most of the water sources are oily black swamps (not all though). 

I also bought new shoes in Pittsburgh but had to send then back after they tore skin off my toes and have me 6 or so blisters. Long story short I'm never hiking in boots or anything similar again, it's running shoes all the way. 

We entered Connecticut a few days ago and have been enjoying the pine forests and Housatonic (sp?) river. We were just trail magicked day old bread from a bakery and enjoying all the treats we got in the mail in Salisbury. Thanks to mom and dad, uncle bob, and the fords. Next stop Dalton Massachusetts.

Also: we hiked through a zoo, hit the lowest point on the AT, crossed a raging river (or three), and stayed at a monastery pavilion under the tables to avoid the rain. The statue above me in that one picture is Walt Whitman. The bearded guy with the bread is Nickelodeon who we've been hiking with the past 3 days or so.

New Jersey is...beautiful?

We just crossed another state line and are (finally) done with Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania is known primarily for its rocks. The last hundred miles have been hellish. Imagine walking over 3 mile stretches of rubix cubes or playing the lava game for hours on end, but instead of furniture to step on: it's pointed and jagged rocks. 

We had been told (multiple times) that as soon as we cross the Delaware River into New Jersey the terrain would change radically and suddenly: we were promises no rocks. We were lied to. The rocks persist but New Jersey is shockingly gorgeous. I associate New Jersey with vaguely dangerous urban sprawl, Jersey Shore, and Atlantic City.

So far it's been a sparsely vegetated ridge with views to the Delaware, glacial ponds, and fast flowing streams. Pennsylvania by comparison was ridge after ridge of the same trees, oceans of ferns, and miles of rocks. All the locals out hiking told us to tell our friends in a vain attempt to change New Jerseys image. 

Since our last update we've already met with and pushes through a new hiking bubble. Rain a week or so ago pushed 19 hikers into the 501 shelter (where pizza can be delivered). We spent the next few days hiking with Z, Sconnie, Pack Rat, Biscuits and Gravy, Sweat, Sandman, and Gummi Bear. 

I also encountered and overcame the greatest challenge on the AT to date: a half gallon of ice cream. Usually hikers attempt the half gallon challenge at Pine Grove Furnace State Park located just after the halfway point, except when we passes through it was closed. We did our challenge in Palmerton, in front of the grocery store to the delight and disgust of the locals, and I will never eat ice cream again. That much dairy is near impossible, even when you're eating 5-6 000 calories a day. 

We've also hiked around a superfund site after a near vertical rock uphill and seen a rattlesnake in the flesh. We are currently at the Mohican Outdoor Center to avoid a thunderstorm rolling through. We're headed for Greenwood Lake New York to catch a bus back to Pittsburgh so Garfunkel can be at his brothers wedding, so our next post will probably just be a notice of our 5 day ( much needed) hiking hiatus.

The trail went across the bridge and the up.

The thick black thing is a rattlesnack.