Well...
It's been about 1.5 months since I finished my thru hike and I feel as if my life hasn't progressed anywhere. In fact, I feel as if it's going backwards.. How is this possible?!
After returning home from Maine, I ended up living back home with my Mom, I came home to missing friends that moved away while I was gone; including friends that wrote me off of their lists since I was gone for so long, and I still have no job, despite several interviews that went well.. I even had two interviews for one position within a company!! In the meantime, I have resorted to miscellaneous tasks for money (detailing cars, painting houses, selling items on eBay, etc.). All while I'm trying to get back into the dating scene after being gone for 6 months.
It's hard for me to come back to all of these things. Why? When I was hiking the trail, I had so much freedom and accountability for myself. I was on my own. Whatever I wanted or needed, I made it happen. I was self-sufficient. But I wasn't living in a sustainable lifestyle -- things were so much simpler out there. And "real life" is anything but simple. It's hard to function in this so-called "real world" when you're at the mercy of so many "things" -- and there were far less of these "things" when I was hiking. It's tough.. I have owned my own business. I have hiked the entire Appalachian Trail. I have a Bachelor's degree from an accredited University under my belt. I have been at my *best* before. I am not at my best now. i.e. Employers don't care about when you're at your best. Do you have the two years of experience? Yes or no? No? (next).. For me, it's hard to put into words what lessons and experiences the trail taught me. There certainly was experience to be had on the AT. But employers have a difficult time understanding everything that hiking the AT entails and what you learn from doing it. In fact, most people have the wrong concept in the minds when they think of someone hiking for almost 6 months. No, I didn't "live off of the land." No, I wasn't "alone." And no, I'm not "insane."
In short, I am longing to start something new with my life.. Longing to start a career path so I can make the money necessary to have things that make me self-sufficient (again). I would like my own place, a decent car that was made in this decade and not the previous two, and perhaps some new, refreshing friends to throw into the mix.
Obviously, I'm in low point. But I had low points when I was on the trail. So what's different now? I suppose that when I was hiking, I had a clear cut goal. Maine. Katahdin. This journey. I knew that if I kept walking, I would get there. Now, I blindly send applications to companies and there is no gauge as to if I'm making progress or not.. I'm uncertain when the new life I'm longing for will come to fruition. If there's only one thing the trail taught me, it was to keep chipping away at the big goal; making smaller goals that would ultimately lead to the big picture. Even though I'm unsure of my current progress, I shall tell myself that progress is being made..
The world is a big place. Where do I want to go? What do I want to do? Answer: I'm not sure. Ugh.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
That's a Wrap...
So that's it.. my thru hike is officially over. I summited Katahdin on September 21st. and it was a sunny Class 1 Day!
In short, I continuously hiked 2,181 miles from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Mt. Katahdin in Maine -- over the course of 5 months & 18 days (4/03 - 9/21).
But A LOT happened in those 5 months and 18 days. More things than I can begin to put into words. Magical things. Happy things. Sad things. Frustrating things. Things that have definitely changed me. I feel confident in saying that I had the experience of a lifetime while thru hiking the AT. And now it's over so quickly -- leaving me scrambling to come to terms with what I just did for the past 5 months and 18 days. You would think that being on the trail day in and day out, I would have plenty of time to think about it. Truth is, I spent most of my time entertaining whatever came to my mind, watching where I placed my feet and hands (especially in NH & ME) and not analyzing my thru hike -- because it wasn't over. I wanted to be in the moment. But now is the time for reflection.
The beauty of a thru hike is of many things. Entertaining whatever comes to your mind is quite liberating. Just being able to think. Free of any distractions and outside influences. No television, no music, no games. If a sad thought came to my mind, I thought about why I was sad... connecting the dots in my past; whether I wanted to or not. But all of what I mentioned above is geared towards when I was by myself -- whether hiking or alone in my tent. What about the social aspect of the trail?
The AT has an awesome subculture that has now sucked me in for good. All the trail angels, the trail magic, the festivals... it's down-right magical. But you might be asking yourself what's so magical about a bunch of strangers and this mysterious Appalachian Trail? Magical because it was strangers, yes, strangers, that did nice things for other strangers. Whether it was a past thru hiker providing trail magic to a prospecting thru hiker, a hiker helping another hiker, or someone that knew very little about the AT but gave me rides in and out of town. Or the woman in Tyringham, Massachusetts that let me sit on her porch so I could take a break out of the pouring rain. Or the family that took in nine hikers so we could all wait out hurricane Irene. There's SO many acts of kindness that I experienced in the past 5 months that it restored my faith in humanity. And that's another thing that's magical about the AT... you rarely get acts of kindness and the sense of community elsewhere that is similar.
However, there is one thing about a thru hike that bothers me. It's that I can't comprehend the trail as a whole. I try to remember back to the start of my journey in Georgia, North Carolina, Tennessee. It seems so far away -- because it is. I hiked for almost 6 months!! Even though I can easily remember what went on in the "early days", I can't fathom how the trail started to change me back then. When I was in GA, NC, and TN the grand ol' times just rolled along endlessly. The South was loaded with awesome food, seemingly endless trail magic, lofty mountains, hospitality, Trail Days in Damascus, VA (enough said), and the list goes on. The South will always have a special place in my heart because, for me, the subculture of the AT is the strongest in the South. I attribute this to thousands of hikers that start in Georgia and try to successfully thru hike. As I moved Northward up the trail, the amount of thru hikers were less and less. Many folks don't make it because of how they're tested. And it wasn't until the long days in Virginia and the trial and tribulation days in Pennsylvania that I started to be tested.
When I say that I can't comprehend the trail as a whole, it's the people I met (from all over the world), the fun times, the sad times, the mental, physical, and emotional strain. What did I obtain from it all? To be honest, I don't have an answer right this instant as to how the trail has changed me for the long run. As for adjusting to "normal" society since being home for a few days... everything is an overload and I'm sometimes frustrated that things aren't always as simple as just being out on the trail.. Even when I was on the trail and would go into town I would be overwhelmed by the amount of choices in food and beverages. Now that I'm done my thru hike for good, I'm still overwhelmed but appreciate the amount of variety.
Times were a lot simpler back then.. I remember the days of misery when a simple can of Coke perked me up. I remember the kindness of strangers leaving drinking water at road crossings when there wasn't any water for miles. When I think back on my hike, the pain, the suffering, the misery, the loneliness... they're not the first to come to mind. I mainly remember how goofy we all were, how uniting the trail can be, and how alive I felt. It amazes me that when I wanted to quit -- there were multiple times -- I remembered the invigorating, strong, and steady wind on top of the balds in the South where you could see for miles in every direction. I remembered just how far I had come, in distance and in myself. I remembered the good times with the bad ones... The breathtaking scenery... How a bad day could so easily melt away when you looked for the magic in life. That's why I marched on. I felt so alive. I rarely woke up with Maine or Katahdin on my mind. No.. I took it day by day. Savoring each memory as it was being made. The AT made me realize that I should cherish every moment. -- If life is one continuous journey, then the ups and the downs are a critical part of the experience. You can gain something from everything. Even if you're being tested to the breaking point.
For me, this journey was never really about Maine or Katahdin. No... I wanted to see the nooks and crannies of small town America, tucked away in the mountains. I wanted to see breath-taking scenery and have an awesome time doing it. I simply wanted an adventure that reduced life to it's simplest forms. i.e. My interactions with people meant a lot more when I was on the trail. No one had any hidden agendas. It was just good ol' fashioned conversation and interaction. Now that it's all over, I miss it. I really do. Just the fact that I was only # 372 out of thousands that tried to reach Katahdin, ME from Springer Mt., GA shows the difficulty of this journey. My friends on the trail certainly made each day more memorable. And aside from how simple life is on the trail, I'll miss my friends just as much.
Nonetheless, it was the experience of a lifetime.
In short, I continuously hiked 2,181 miles from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Mt. Katahdin in Maine -- over the course of 5 months & 18 days (4/03 - 9/21).
But A LOT happened in those 5 months and 18 days. More things than I can begin to put into words. Magical things. Happy things. Sad things. Frustrating things. Things that have definitely changed me. I feel confident in saying that I had the experience of a lifetime while thru hiking the AT. And now it's over so quickly -- leaving me scrambling to come to terms with what I just did for the past 5 months and 18 days. You would think that being on the trail day in and day out, I would have plenty of time to think about it. Truth is, I spent most of my time entertaining whatever came to my mind, watching where I placed my feet and hands (especially in NH & ME) and not analyzing my thru hike -- because it wasn't over. I wanted to be in the moment. But now is the time for reflection.
The beauty of a thru hike is of many things. Entertaining whatever comes to your mind is quite liberating. Just being able to think. Free of any distractions and outside influences. No television, no music, no games. If a sad thought came to my mind, I thought about why I was sad... connecting the dots in my past; whether I wanted to or not. But all of what I mentioned above is geared towards when I was by myself -- whether hiking or alone in my tent. What about the social aspect of the trail?
The AT has an awesome subculture that has now sucked me in for good. All the trail angels, the trail magic, the festivals... it's down-right magical. But you might be asking yourself what's so magical about a bunch of strangers and this mysterious Appalachian Trail? Magical because it was strangers, yes, strangers, that did nice things for other strangers. Whether it was a past thru hiker providing trail magic to a prospecting thru hiker, a hiker helping another hiker, or someone that knew very little about the AT but gave me rides in and out of town. Or the woman in Tyringham, Massachusetts that let me sit on her porch so I could take a break out of the pouring rain. Or the family that took in nine hikers so we could all wait out hurricane Irene. There's SO many acts of kindness that I experienced in the past 5 months that it restored my faith in humanity. And that's another thing that's magical about the AT... you rarely get acts of kindness and the sense of community elsewhere that is similar.
However, there is one thing about a thru hike that bothers me. It's that I can't comprehend the trail as a whole. I try to remember back to the start of my journey in Georgia, North Carolina, Tennessee. It seems so far away -- because it is. I hiked for almost 6 months!! Even though I can easily remember what went on in the "early days", I can't fathom how the trail started to change me back then. When I was in GA, NC, and TN the grand ol' times just rolled along endlessly. The South was loaded with awesome food, seemingly endless trail magic, lofty mountains, hospitality, Trail Days in Damascus, VA (enough said), and the list goes on. The South will always have a special place in my heart because, for me, the subculture of the AT is the strongest in the South. I attribute this to thousands of hikers that start in Georgia and try to successfully thru hike. As I moved Northward up the trail, the amount of thru hikers were less and less. Many folks don't make it because of how they're tested. And it wasn't until the long days in Virginia and the trial and tribulation days in Pennsylvania that I started to be tested.
When I say that I can't comprehend the trail as a whole, it's the people I met (from all over the world), the fun times, the sad times, the mental, physical, and emotional strain. What did I obtain from it all? To be honest, I don't have an answer right this instant as to how the trail has changed me for the long run. As for adjusting to "normal" society since being home for a few days... everything is an overload and I'm sometimes frustrated that things aren't always as simple as just being out on the trail.. Even when I was on the trail and would go into town I would be overwhelmed by the amount of choices in food and beverages. Now that I'm done my thru hike for good, I'm still overwhelmed but appreciate the amount of variety.
Times were a lot simpler back then.. I remember the days of misery when a simple can of Coke perked me up. I remember the kindness of strangers leaving drinking water at road crossings when there wasn't any water for miles. When I think back on my hike, the pain, the suffering, the misery, the loneliness... they're not the first to come to mind. I mainly remember how goofy we all were, how uniting the trail can be, and how alive I felt. It amazes me that when I wanted to quit -- there were multiple times -- I remembered the invigorating, strong, and steady wind on top of the balds in the South where you could see for miles in every direction. I remembered just how far I had come, in distance and in myself. I remembered the good times with the bad ones... The breathtaking scenery... How a bad day could so easily melt away when you looked for the magic in life. That's why I marched on. I felt so alive. I rarely woke up with Maine or Katahdin on my mind. No.. I took it day by day. Savoring each memory as it was being made. The AT made me realize that I should cherish every moment. -- If life is one continuous journey, then the ups and the downs are a critical part of the experience. You can gain something from everything. Even if you're being tested to the breaking point.
For me, this journey was never really about Maine or Katahdin. No... I wanted to see the nooks and crannies of small town America, tucked away in the mountains. I wanted to see breath-taking scenery and have an awesome time doing it. I simply wanted an adventure that reduced life to it's simplest forms. i.e. My interactions with people meant a lot more when I was on the trail. No one had any hidden agendas. It was just good ol' fashioned conversation and interaction. Now that it's all over, I miss it. I really do. Just the fact that I was only # 372 out of thousands that tried to reach Katahdin, ME from Springer Mt., GA shows the difficulty of this journey. My friends on the trail certainly made each day more memorable. And aside from how simple life is on the trail, I'll miss my friends just as much.
Nonetheless, it was the experience of a lifetime.
 |
| KATAHDIN. Northern terminus of the AT. Georgia to Maine. |
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Ford It!
Well here I am in Stratton, ME! Officially less than 200 miles!!
The past few days have been, honestly, miserable. It has rained the better part of the past 3 days and everything I have is moist. Some of the best views in Maine (the Saddlebacks and Crocker) were socked in with blowing rain that had some sleet mixed in... yes, SLEET. It's turned noticeably cooler the past few days.. In turn, the fall colors are starting to come out but will be more noticeable once I cross over Bigelow and the elevations lower further north... turning the mostly the coniferous trees into deciduous.
But let me go back to the recent weather.. Maine is known for its rugged terrain and wilderness experience. What better way to fully indulge in the wilderness experience by having to ford ''streams'' and rivers! The waterways here in Maine have been high since Irene blew through and the daily rain paired with severe thunderstorms have kept them high -- so high that the water has actually washed away highway bridges!! So as you can imagine the smallest of streams are overflowing; which has made fording them an interesting challenge! In dry weather, you would take your shoes off and ford with your camp shoes, but the trail has literally been a stream with soupy mud holes as deep as my mid-calf. All day long my feet are wet with cold squishy socks. Therefore, for better traction and stability, I just keep my trail runners on while fording (it gets all the mud out, plus they look brand new afterward!). The worst ford was a little past my waist. This didn't make me too uncomfortable as the current wasn't too strong but some other crossings have had stronger current but slightly lower water levels. Why don't they build bridges?! Turns out that the ice on the streams and rivers gets so high in wintertime that it wipes out the bridges that were once there... Harsh environment, eh?
Next stop is the infamous trail town, Monson!! Then it's into the 100 mile wilderness, which comes to an end at the base of Katahdin!!!! Still have some work to put in, however...
 |
| The bootlegged 2,000 mile marker (which was in the wrong spot...) |
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Welcome to MAINE!
MAINE! It's rugged. It's tough. It's... so different.
Where to begin?? When I crossed into Maine it was almost surreal. Since starting in Georgia on April 3rd, I've been telling everyone that has asked that I'm going to Maine. And now I'm here. With only 233 miles left, I'm chomping at the bit. Truth be told, I'm ready to be done. Ready to start some new things in life and move on with some others... But I'm getting ahead of myself... Must finish the trail first!! Finish what you start.
After waiting out hurricane Irene with four 'zero days', I hit the trail feeling refreshed yet still tired. Is this possible?! Anyway, the damage from the storm was present on the trail. The shear power of water is just amazing. The trail was heavily eroded, since the trail acts as a stream in heavy rain, some rock steps washed out and blow-downs were everywhere! I'm glad I wasn't in the woods during the storm!
The first day out of Gorham, NH, where I had left off, was fairly easy and I managed a 17 mile day. But when I crossed into Maine the next day, Maine would flex it's rugged and tough muscles. The Mahoosucs made me long for the Whites of New Hampshire. I don't know what it was about the Mahoosucs... but that section had some of the most steep, slick, and energy-draining terrain I've seen in 1,900 miles. Energy-draining = ravenous appetite. Traversing roots, rocks, rock slabs, boulders the size of small homes and SUVs, mud holes, high streams, etc. ... it takes it out of ya! In fact, I literally had 1/4 of a Nutella jar and one pasta side dinner left in my food bag when I arrived in Andover. That's the lowest my food bag has been on this entire hike!!
So, I've established that Maine is difficult. However, I don't really mind... The first of the leaves are starting to turn and a few early leaves have made it to the ground in red, orange, and yellow colors. The lakes and ponds are simply amazing. The shear rugged terrain and the very rural towns are something new as well. While in Andover, locals rode ATVs and tractors down the street in the stoplight absent town.
I'm looking to finish between Sept. 20-25th. Obviously, it's still hard to tell exactly my finish date until I arrive in Monson. Like I mentioned above, I'm excited to finish but am sad that my hike is starting to dwindle to a close. So many friends and memories have been made. It's hard to imagine that this [ridiculous] lifestyle will be over before I know it! I mean, really, hiking for 6 months?! Geez...
 |
| MAINE -- It's "the way life should be" |
Thursday, August 25, 2011
The Whites
I shall describe my traverse of The Whites in this entry:
Mt. Moosilauke was certainly a rough introduction to The Whites and after I descended the mountain, I was held up in Lincoln, NH (at Chet's) for a day letting the weather clear out. I left Lincoln with clear skies and had a trail magic ride back to the trail from Dan, who also let us use his hot tub and heated pool at his condo before leaving town. Sweet!!
Climbing out of Kinsman Notch, the second mountain in the range is Kinsman. It wasn't until ascending Kinsman did I realize that the brutal ascents in The Whites require hoisting yourself and your 30+ lb pack up 1 - 3+ foot rock "steps"... all the while grunting, moaning, groaning, pushing, pulling, cussing, scrapping, slipping, and sliding. The views are certainly amazing but the climbs and descents are just brutal. Even the descents require all the things I listed above. The Whites have some of the most "seat of your pants" hiking I've ever done. In some places, I would put my trekking poles away and skid down rock slabs and steep steps on my ass end. It certainly is a different type of hiking that thru hikers are used to... it requires full concentration, unlike some other parts of the trail that you could almost hike mindlessly.
Another aspect of The Whites is that the AMC (Appalachian Mountain (Money) Club) has a stranglehold on the trail(s) through the National Forest. Reason being? The AMC has a system of huts that are mainly used by day and short section hikers. Thus, shelters and campsites are rare along the AT in The Whites. In part, the terrain will not allow such things. Thru hikers are allowed to stay at the huts if they do work for stay on behalf of the croo. Plus, we get to feast on leftovers!! I stayed at 4 out of the 8 huts and was excited to have work for stay as part of my experience of hiking the trail. The only problem is that the hut "croo" can be a little demeaning to thru hikers. Most chores at the huts are sweeping, doing dishes, etc. However, the most ridiculous work for stay I completed was at Lakes of the Clouds where I had to scrub black pots and pans to a silvery shine.... while the hut croo played Uno.
I found myself at Lakes of the Clouds after departing Mizpah hut, which is below tree-line. Once I was above tree-line, on my way to Lakes of the Clouds, the weather turned very, very sour. Visibility was all of 20-30 feet with winds approaching 50-60 mph. I was literally blown off of the trail several times! Usually, the wind is invigorating but this was just scary. After finally making it to the hut, I learn that the wind-speed register has blown off the roof and the winds on Mt. Washington (just 1,200 feet in elevation and 1.4 miles above the hut) were nearing 90 mph. I decide that getting blown off trail isn't really for me and therefore, I end my day at 11:30 AM with only 5 miles completed for the day. It is what it is.
It was days like that one that made my traverse of The Whites take a tad longer than anticipated, but I'm not sure my body would have withstood me doing it any faster. Today, I pulled a long day into the town of Gorham, NH and my knees HURT from the week spent hiking some of the most difficult terrain along the AT. In fact, everything hurts. Hips, knees, back... It's all just tired. Zero day here in Gorham! Woot!
In closing, The Whites have some of the most beautiful views along the entire trail. For instance, Franconia Ridge was just breathtaking! I'm so thankful I had clear weather on that ridge! For me, it was on Franconia where the beauty of The Whites really shined, literally (before the bad weather came). Another area in The Whites is the famous Presidential Range. It's all above tree-line and my traverse was half and half... half clear weather and half socked in. I'll take it! Some hikers have no views in The Whites at all! It's rather amazing how quickly the weather can change. It would be socked in one minute, sunny the next, then back to socked in. And the wind... the wind!! I'll just put it short, sweet, and to the point: that wind is FIERCE above treeline!!
Less than 20 miles from the Maine border and less than 300 miles to go! Weeee!!
Mt. Moosilauke was certainly a rough introduction to The Whites and after I descended the mountain, I was held up in Lincoln, NH (at Chet's) for a day letting the weather clear out. I left Lincoln with clear skies and had a trail magic ride back to the trail from Dan, who also let us use his hot tub and heated pool at his condo before leaving town. Sweet!!
Climbing out of Kinsman Notch, the second mountain in the range is Kinsman. It wasn't until ascending Kinsman did I realize that the brutal ascents in The Whites require hoisting yourself and your 30+ lb pack up 1 - 3+ foot rock "steps"... all the while grunting, moaning, groaning, pushing, pulling, cussing, scrapping, slipping, and sliding. The views are certainly amazing but the climbs and descents are just brutal. Even the descents require all the things I listed above. The Whites have some of the most "seat of your pants" hiking I've ever done. In some places, I would put my trekking poles away and skid down rock slabs and steep steps on my ass end. It certainly is a different type of hiking that thru hikers are used to... it requires full concentration, unlike some other parts of the trail that you could almost hike mindlessly.
Another aspect of The Whites is that the AMC (Appalachian Mountain (Money) Club) has a stranglehold on the trail(s) through the National Forest. Reason being? The AMC has a system of huts that are mainly used by day and short section hikers. Thus, shelters and campsites are rare along the AT in The Whites. In part, the terrain will not allow such things. Thru hikers are allowed to stay at the huts if they do work for stay on behalf of the croo. Plus, we get to feast on leftovers!! I stayed at 4 out of the 8 huts and was excited to have work for stay as part of my experience of hiking the trail. The only problem is that the hut "croo" can be a little demeaning to thru hikers. Most chores at the huts are sweeping, doing dishes, etc. However, the most ridiculous work for stay I completed was at Lakes of the Clouds where I had to scrub black pots and pans to a silvery shine.... while the hut croo played Uno.
I found myself at Lakes of the Clouds after departing Mizpah hut, which is below tree-line. Once I was above tree-line, on my way to Lakes of the Clouds, the weather turned very, very sour. Visibility was all of 20-30 feet with winds approaching 50-60 mph. I was literally blown off of the trail several times! Usually, the wind is invigorating but this was just scary. After finally making it to the hut, I learn that the wind-speed register has blown off the roof and the winds on Mt. Washington (just 1,200 feet in elevation and 1.4 miles above the hut) were nearing 90 mph. I decide that getting blown off trail isn't really for me and therefore, I end my day at 11:30 AM with only 5 miles completed for the day. It is what it is.
It was days like that one that made my traverse of The Whites take a tad longer than anticipated, but I'm not sure my body would have withstood me doing it any faster. Today, I pulled a long day into the town of Gorham, NH and my knees HURT from the week spent hiking some of the most difficult terrain along the AT. In fact, everything hurts. Hips, knees, back... It's all just tired. Zero day here in Gorham! Woot!
In closing, The Whites have some of the most beautiful views along the entire trail. For instance, Franconia Ridge was just breathtaking! I'm so thankful I had clear weather on that ridge! For me, it was on Franconia where the beauty of The Whites really shined, literally (before the bad weather came). Another area in The Whites is the famous Presidential Range. It's all above tree-line and my traverse was half and half... half clear weather and half socked in. I'll take it! Some hikers have no views in The Whites at all! It's rather amazing how quickly the weather can change. It would be socked in one minute, sunny the next, then back to socked in. And the wind... the wind!! I'll just put it short, sweet, and to the point: that wind is FIERCE above treeline!!
Less than 20 miles from the Maine border and less than 300 miles to go! Weeee!!
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Intro into The Whites
The Whites have some of the most stunning views on the entire 2,181 mile-long Appalachian Trail. You're above tree line in an alpine environment! It's certainly a very unique place. However, the beauty of The Whites can only be admired if the weather is clear. This was not the case when I decided to hike the first mountain in The Whites (Mt. Moosilauke).
The day started out fine. It was overcast and sprinkling rain when I left the shelter at the base of the mountain. After about an hour of ascending, the rain started to pick up. I decided I was committed and didn't turn back. About two hours later, I find myself above tree line, nearing the summit, with fog / clouds blowing past like speeding cars, and the wind driving the rain so hard, it felt like sleet pellets hitting my skin. After trying to take some pictures by the weather-beaten sign that read: "Mt. Moosilauke, 4,802 ft." I sprinted to the other side of the summit to get down to tree line, where I could be semi-protected from the weather.
A few minutes later, I cross paths with some section hikers that are slack-packing going SOBO. I tell them to be very careful on the exposed summit and they tell me to be careful descending into Kinsman notch. Touche. I had heard from several people that the descent on Moosilauke is one of the most dangerous and difficult in the entire Whites (more so when wet!!), but nothing I heard or read could prepare myself for what I was about to go through trying to come down.
After taking a break at the shelter located just before the near vertical descent, I start picking my way down the mountain. Little did I know that descending the remaining 1.5 miles to the road would take me almost 2 hours. 1.5 miles in 2 hours. The rocks were slick, the wooden steps, and steel rebar installed on the rock slabs were slick, as well. About halfway down, the trail came parallel with a rushing waterfall literally inches away. I'm sure it was pretty but didn't dare take my eyes off the trail to observe. I was too focused on getting down safely, as the trail itself was a waterfall.
The day started out fine. It was overcast and sprinkling rain when I left the shelter at the base of the mountain. After about an hour of ascending, the rain started to pick up. I decided I was committed and didn't turn back. About two hours later, I find myself above tree line, nearing the summit, with fog / clouds blowing past like speeding cars, and the wind driving the rain so hard, it felt like sleet pellets hitting my skin. After trying to take some pictures by the weather-beaten sign that read: "Mt. Moosilauke, 4,802 ft." I sprinted to the other side of the summit to get down to tree line, where I could be semi-protected from the weather.
A few minutes later, I cross paths with some section hikers that are slack-packing going SOBO. I tell them to be very careful on the exposed summit and they tell me to be careful descending into Kinsman notch. Touche. I had heard from several people that the descent on Moosilauke is one of the most dangerous and difficult in the entire Whites (more so when wet!!), but nothing I heard or read could prepare myself for what I was about to go through trying to come down.
After taking a break at the shelter located just before the near vertical descent, I start picking my way down the mountain. Little did I know that descending the remaining 1.5 miles to the road would take me almost 2 hours. 1.5 miles in 2 hours. The rocks were slick, the wooden steps, and steel rebar installed on the rock slabs were slick, as well. About halfway down, the trail came parallel with a rushing waterfall literally inches away. I'm sure it was pretty but didn't dare take my eyes off the trail to observe. I was too focused on getting down safely, as the trail itself was a waterfall.
 |
| The sign on the trail AFTER I descended Moosilauke... |
Sunday, August 14, 2011
The Weight
Pounds. Ounces. Grams. It all adds up. Everything weighs something.
I'm reminded of "the weight" because I recently picked up my cold weather gear, as I'm about to head into The Whites where the weather is dynamic. And I feel the extra weight of my heavier sleeping bag and more clothes. To reduce weight, I only carry what I absolutely need. For instance, I dropped my iPod in Hanover, just to name one item.
Hiking the AT certainly puts "the weight" into perspective. In other words, what is it worth to me to carry "Item X" up and down mountains all day?
Everything in our lives has weight; from our relationships to the material things in our lives. Obviously, some items have more weight than others. But the lesson still fits. We can only carry so much before the weight starts to take its toll (become uncomfortable, if you're carrying a pack).
During my hike, I've thought about what weight I could toss from my life when I get back home. I'm actually excited to start some cleaning when I return. Until then, I've cut things out of my life while I'm on the trail. My contact list in my phone is smaller, for example. Hiking the AT makes different marks on different people but almost everyone downsizes their life afterwards. It's logical. Living in the woods for 5-6 months makes you realize what you really need (or not need) to live. Also, when you strip most of the [unnecessary] weight away, you appreciate the luxuries in life a lot more than before you started your hike.
I encourage you to cut some weight from your life. Chances are you'll feel better. :-)
I'm reminded of "the weight" because I recently picked up my cold weather gear, as I'm about to head into The Whites where the weather is dynamic. And I feel the extra weight of my heavier sleeping bag and more clothes. To reduce weight, I only carry what I absolutely need. For instance, I dropped my iPod in Hanover, just to name one item.
Hiking the AT certainly puts "the weight" into perspective. In other words, what is it worth to me to carry "Item X" up and down mountains all day?
Everything in our lives has weight; from our relationships to the material things in our lives. Obviously, some items have more weight than others. But the lesson still fits. We can only carry so much before the weight starts to take its toll (become uncomfortable, if you're carrying a pack).
During my hike, I've thought about what weight I could toss from my life when I get back home. I'm actually excited to start some cleaning when I return. Until then, I've cut things out of my life while I'm on the trail. My contact list in my phone is smaller, for example. Hiking the AT makes different marks on different people but almost everyone downsizes their life afterwards. It's logical. Living in the woods for 5-6 months makes you realize what you really need (or not need) to live. Also, when you strip most of the [unnecessary] weight away, you appreciate the luxuries in life a lot more than before you started your hike.
I encourage you to cut some weight from your life. Chances are you'll feel better. :-)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)