Hiking after Irene

Mid-afternoon snack

From Sarah via phone conversation:

Jay spent Saturday and Sunday at a hostel in Stratton as Tropical Storm Irene passed through. He said it was packed tight with hikers coming off the trail. The electricity flickered a

 few times during the storm, but other than that all was well. Early Monday morning Jay got a shuttle back to the trail. He asked the shuttle driver if he was the first back on the trail from Stratton. The driver said he had shuttled two women earlier that morning.

Jay said the sky was blue and the air freshly washed as he hiked into the mountains Monday morning. He's in the Bigelow Mountains, and the views are spectacular. We're hoping he has great weather and a good hike the rest of the way to Katahdin!

Jay at the Lion's Head viewpoint

How ironic that 20 days after Jay began the AT in April some of the worst tornadoes in history came through the southeast, and about 20 days before he will finish the AT a devastating hurricane has swept up the east coast and across Maine. We are so glad Jay has been able to continue his hike and make it through. He's blessed!

Hurricane Irene

From Helen:
Jay made it to Stratton, ME, in time to stay out of the worst of Irene. We are thankful he was able to be off the trail while the tropical storm passed through. Baxter State Park and Katahdin were closed through the weekend. For more information about the AT status go to: http://www.appalachiantrail.org/hiking/trail-updates More posts with pictures to come soon.

Unusual Amenities



For those who are immodest enough to use it, the AT offers every amenity!



Jay by a piped spring with a bath tub catching the water. How the bathtub
got out in the woods, I guess only the bathtub knows!

Maine at last!

Jay on the suspension bridge across
Pochuck Creek

From Sarah and Jay via telephone conversation:
Jay crossed into Maine on Monday this week after a tough time in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. It had rained on him much of the time he hiked through there.

One interesting hostel where Jay stayed is the White Mountains Hostel. http://www.whitemountainshostel.com/id1.html He entered through the garage, and upon entering saw that there was a spot to take off boots and shoes, a place to change from dirty trail clothes into clean clothes that were provided, and baskets in which to put dirty clothes. There was a shuttle going into town twice daily, and his laundry was done for him while he was in town. He said it felt pretty funny to walk around town in someone else's clothes. It was a nice hostel, and a great place to make the transition from New Hampshire into Maine.

It's All in the View

From Sarah:

Some people enjoy rain; others just get wet!
That's a smile behind that raindrop.

My softest fall to date happened in Vermont, after 5 weeks of hiking, and it illustrated one way I've changed by living outdoors for so long. Vermont is known for its mud, and, sure enough, my first day in that fabulous state I stumbled and fell - SPLOOSH! - right in the midle of a huge mud puddle. After standing there and laughing at me, Jay gallantly gave me a hand up so I didn't have to wallow about even more as I climbed out of the sticky mire. I had black mud from the waist down, covering my left side pretty thoroughly.


Since I couldn't really wash off in the puddle, I just fished my backpack out of the goo, put it on, and kept hiking, hoping I'd find a creek soon. In the hot sun the mud quickly dried and began flaking off, which seemed much easier to handle than washing in a creek. When we found a stream, I didn't bother trying to wash legs, hips, or arms; I just rinsed my hands.


About an hour later, we came upon three section-hikers: a woman, her grown daughter, and son-in-law, all eating lunch. We stopped to eat lunch with them and exchange views of th trail. They were sitting on a tarp, swathed in bug nets. We were squatting on the ground, oblivious to the flies and mosquitos orbiting our heads. Finally one of the women asked, "Don't the insects bother you?" "Not when they aren't biting," Jay replied. "I'm probably too dirty for them to get at," I joked, as I peeled more flakes of caked, black muck from my arm and legs.

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet....
And mud by any other definition is still
just dirt that's been washed thoroughly.

I looked up at that moment and saw an expression of complete repugnance cross the woman's face. I realized then that my reality - dirt, bugs, no showers, filthy clothes - was her anathema. We were both hiking the trail, but in completely different worlds. It was all I could do not to laugh out loud at her expression. Almost made falling into the mud puddle worth it!

It Can Happen in an Instant

From Sarah:
Falling seems to be one of the more common dangers on the AT, and one in which I am becoming an expert. Spending hours each day covering rough terrain, it is only natural that a moment's inattention, a small misstep, or a misjudged stride would cause a fall. Some are simple stumbles, others more serious.

Glacial rocks at Sunfish Pond, 6 miles into NJ from PA

My first tumble happened in Pennsylvania, when a slip on Wolf Rocks resulted in a gashed knee. Razor-sharp rocks are not forgiving, and the blood oozed for half a mile after that one.

A more serious fall happened as Jay and I descended from Mt. Greylock in Massachusetts. The rocks were steep, the trail narrow. Just as I was about to take a downward step, a rock rolled under my foot, and my forward momentum carried me head-first over a four-foot abyss and into a gap between two rocks and a tree. In an instant I had plunged head down, feet flailing uselessly in the air, my backpack pressing the breath from my lungs, one arm hyper-extended above and behind me on the rocks.


The place Sarah fell, hiking down Mt. Greylock.
I think that's a smile of relief at no broken bones! 

 Jay was my hero in that fall, as he bounded down the incline, picked my pack up, thus relieving my gasping lungs, and gave me great sympathy. He had seen the fall, and he was sure he'd be looking at broken teeth and black eyes. What a relief that I only had a hurt arm!

After Jay pulled the pack off of me, I was able to sit up, wiggle my fingers, and decided my arm was probably not broken. I then took an immediate dose of ibuprofen for the swelling already becoming apparent. Jay collapsed one of my trekking poles and secured it to my backpack, and I hobbled forward, holding my injured arm next to my chest with my pack strap, sling-like.

Fortunately we were planning to take a rest day the next day, which gave my arm time to heal. By the time we hiked out of town I was able to use both trekking poles. I just had to be careful how I put my pack on and off for a few days, and I had a rather unusual bruise and scrape on the inside of my elbow!

New Jersey Wildlife (or how a snake eats an earthworm)

Sarah saw this black bear!
Look in the center of the picture.
Fortunately it was running away.

From Sarah via letter (June 26):

We've seen lots of wildlife. Deer, birds, chipmunks, bears. New Jersey has one bear per square mile, and Jay has seen at least six so far. I haven't seen any, which is ok with me. The most unusual wildlife I've seen is a garter snake eating an earthworm. The snake had the worm by its middle and slowly sucked in the ends from both sides of its mouth!

The Saga of Sarah Tenderfeet by Sarah and Helen

"Have you got everything?" parents asked with concern.
"You've got enough socks; your shoes aren't too worn?"

"Yes, everything's fine," she replied with a smile.
"My shoes are like new, only 70 miles."

Oh, they're grueling and sharp, those Penn state rocks.
They'll rattle your knees and give feet some bad knocks.

"They're just rocks in the dirt; how bad can they be?
I'll trudge on them, step on them, and we'll just see."

The first few miles were as easy as pie.
The dirt was like silk; the rocks let her by.

Then Wolf Rocks reared up; she was worn down and weary.
The keen jagged points made her feel a bit leery.

The tall spikes were rugged - no way around.
"You mean I walk on the points, far above ground?"

She was slow and unsure, and then took a fall!
On top of Wolf Rocks she left blood, gore and gall.

But in a trail hiker's life one never can stop.
The knee dripped and dried, a bloody crust on top.

That starry night's camp was peaceful, serene.
Then stormy clouds burst to keep things green.

 Lightning flashed; thunder roared; rain poured down in sheets.
The little tent did its job: all dry with no leaks.

After a storm hikers walk through wet grass.
Shoes and socks quickly soaked, squished as she passed.


Mrs. Tenderfeet at Fitzgerald Falls. What
she doesn't know will hurt her. The trail
goes UP the side of the waterfall!



Miles of rocks and wet grass, her feet became sore -

Shriveled white appendages, not her feet anymore.

Next morning she gasped at the sight when she rose.

Her feet red and swollen, little sausages for toes.

"What shall I do?" she winced on each step.

"Guess I'll hobble on. I'm not quitting yet."

As she hiked the sun shone on beauty all around:
Flowers and trees, caterpillars on the ground.

With distractions like this, who cares about feet?

She staggered on, relishing nature's beat.

Sure enough, by day's end, she was so glad to see

Her feet back to normal. Her soul filled with glee.

Never fear rocks and wet, tough miles or strife

Recall as you walk: how great is a hiker's life!

On Being Female

From Sarah (This was written while Sarah was still hiking. She has since made it home to Nevada and is back at her teaching job.):

Boardwalk through a swamp

Being a woman hiker has its perks. I can cover up a week of bad hair days with a buff, and I don't have to take it off when going into a deli. When I slip and fall in front of a shelter full of young males, I am treated with touching concern and sympathy instead of bad jokes. Being smaller, I eat less, which means my pack is lighter. Plus my wide hips keep my center of gravity lower which can help me balance on rocks and roots.

A few days ago a hiker asked if I carried a mirror. He wanted to see how badly his face had broken out. "I can feel the zits; I just want to see how bad I look," he explained. I suppose he asked me for the mirror because I was the only woman at the campsite. He figured he had a higher chance of success with his request to a female than to any of the young males in camp. After digging deep into my pack, I pulled out a tiny 1" x 2 1/2" silver-backed piece of glass. "Will this do?" I asked, handing it over. The hiker solemnly took the miniature mirror and began examining his face, portion by portion, exclaiming in dismay as he discovered each new bump.



Sarah in front of the Delaware River.
Pennsylvania in the background.

It was only after stowing the mirror back into the depths of my pack that I realized I had not bothered looking at myself. I reckon my inner vision of myself is so strong that I don't want to cloud it with reality.

 

New Hampshire

From Helen via phone message from Sarah and Jay:
Sarah and Jay have made it to Hanover, New Hampshire! Sarah will be heading back to school soon, but she has covered more than 450 miles on the AT with Jay. More posts and pictures to come soon. Congratulations on making it so far, Sarah and Jay! They are still 2 weeks ahead of their planned itinerary.

State Impressions

From Jay:

Jay hiking among blooming rhododendron and mountain laurel

Here are some overall impressions of the states I have hiked through so far, meaning states other than denial, confusion and lethargy.


I think of Georgia as the boot camp of the AT. Continuous ascents and descents with little change in scenery serve to develop strong trail legs and determination. Crowds diminish as people realize that thru-hiking demands a different set of priorities than weekend hikes: distance comes first over cooking, bird watching, swimming, fishing,or any other of the pursuits most associated with backpacking.



Close up mountain laurel

 North Carolina and Tennessee reward hikers that persevere through Georgia with beautiful scenery coinciding with the onset of spring. The Great Smoky Mountains adorned with carpets of wildflowers are a highlight of the entire trek. Northern Tennessee offers beautiful scenery as hikers are routed off the ridges to hike along rivers and past thundering waterfalls amongst the blooming mountain laurels.


Sarah climbs a NJ stile

I remember Virginia for its distance (containing over a quarter of the entire trail) and variety. The hiker is treated to everything from rolling pasturelands with fence stiles and cows to challenging boulder scrambling  (with snakes) atop ridges, and everything between those extremes. Virginia also offers the hiker a mile or two of easy walking for each 20 miles hiked, allowing thru-hikers to achieve longer daily distances. I liked southern and central VA best but didn't care for Shenandoah National Park. The trail through Shenandoah NP crosses the Blue Ridge Parkway 28 times and never seems to escape the sounds of motorcycles roaring through. It is, however, a great place to see bears.

West Virginia gives the hiker the major milestone of Harpers Ferry. The ATC headquarters, historical sites, and beautiful scenery make unforgettable memories.

Maryland is a gratifying gift. Easier terrain combined with Civil War historical sites allow the hiker to daydream about the significant things that happened in this very forest, years ago. This section flies by all too quickly, lasting only 42 miles.

Jay at a direction marker at Sunrise Pavilion.
Pennsylvania in the background

Pennsylvania is a place of transition. From easier hiking through occasional cornfields and quaint villages in the Cumberland Valley to painful walking on unglaciated sharp-rocked ridges in the north. North bounders can also feast on their first ripe blueberries. The rocks aren't technically hard to navigate, for the most part, but they have a cumulative effect on the feet as the days add up. By the time you reach New Jersey, your feet feel swollen and bruised.

Sarah on 8/10 mile boardwalk surrounded by cattails.
{Good thing they weren't catskins. ;-)}

New Jersey is a delightful fete, offering smoother, glaciated rocks to walk on, the first lakes and ponds to swim in, and fun boardwalks through swamps. The place is crawling with bears: I saw at least one every day. New Jersey also offered mosquitoes, but they were only bad enough to require the use of deet for 3 of the 6 days I was there.

Sarah coming up the AT, white blaze making her smile.

New York surprised me with its brutal terrain. Although the trail stays low in elevation, it tends to cross ridges rather than run along them. The gradients are very steep. Names such as "Agony Grind," and "The Lemon Squeezer" adorn sections of the trail through New York. New York offered my favorite view of the trip so far. From Black Mountain I saw the mighty Hudson River winding through verdant forests to the NY city skyline some 35 miles distant. It was breathtaking and made me feel like I had truly traveled a long way from Georgia.

The trail has given me many memories to treasure, but I am greedy for more! I am eager to see what the remaining states have in store.