In light of my recent episode with Giardia (and my second trip to the ER in three weeks) I have decided to pay tribute to the untamed beast, which is the AT, by writing an acrostic poem. My fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Spriggs, would be proud...
Going to the water source,
Into the well goes the pump.
A bag of fresh new water,
Ready to drink cool spring.
Don't sleep, can't eat, won't walk
In goes the food, only to go right back out.
Another trip to the hospital, back on the trail tomorrow.
I aspire to be Robert Frost, but fear I missed the mark a little bit hear. Oh well. I am sure some new ailment will visit me and I will have another chance.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
Day 22: On a Hiker's Psychology
The first month is almost finished, and there is a lot to say. The gang has traveled through Georgia, into Tenn. and the Smokeys, and we are now marching on the North Carolina border toward the doorstep of Virginia. For the past week we have been blessed with severe thunderstorms that have followed us for 100 miles, pouring rain on our heads and rattling our tents with each thundering lightening strike. We are progressing nicely and can practically smell the homecooking as we approach our respective homes. To this date, our largest day mileage wise has been 24 miles. Overall, we are averaging around 20 miles. Hikers we meet are amazed at our "blistering pace" and it would be a lie to say that we aren't proud to be seen as the cream of the crop in that regard.
Thinking about interesting anecdotes has never been my forte. Boastfully, I could mention our closest bear encounter yet, where in the midst of night two bears (we think) came within 10 yards of our tents. We heard loud rustlings in the bush outside, and Jake poked his head out to see two glowing eyes in the dark. Softling, he let out a curse word, to which the bear grunted (in what could be considered the bear version of the same word) before running off. In a more embarassing yet similar fashion, I could tell about the time I was walking the trail when I surprised a large doe. The deer sprinted up the mountain side some 20 yards, all the while making a high pitch shrieking sound. Then, it turned to face me. Feeling slighted that the deer was not scared enough to sprint away all together, I made myself big and made some noise by banging my poles together. Unexpectedly, the deer merely stood there and began stomping its feet in a display of defiance. I won't tell you who was the first one to flinch and walk away, but lets just say that you should never underestimate the utter ferociousness of nature, even does.
In a more philosophical note, the trail gives you a lot of time to simply think. Staggering up a mountain a few days ago, I came up with this connection between a hiker's mind and the trail. In the hiker world, we follow a strict routine, in terms of eating, sleeping, setting up shelter, etc. To disturb such an order causes a hiker to become extremely annoyed and upset. When your'e hiking up a mountain, your mind tends to wander to all the things that are wrong at that moment. You didn't eat enough breakfast, your sleeping pad is wet, your blister on your left foots looks like a bad playdo session, or you simply didn't like the way your pack feels on your shoulders. With each step that you dwell on the bad, the trail seems to get steeper and more rocky. At times, you reach what you think is your breaking point . You can't go another step. The only option seems to fall back down that mountain. At other times, your mind is thinking positively, and that same trail becomes one of those smooth paved walkways found in airports. Although the trail takes on the shape of your mood, I would argue that it isn't a totally mercilous demon. Even in the hardest moments, the trail gives you something back. When hikers finally reach the top of that mountain, andthey are too exhausted to even cheer or hoot outloud in triumph, insteadthey let out a soft sigh. That sound is by far one of the sweetest sounds I have heard on the trip thus far.
Take care, and I'll try and write again as soon as possible.
Thinking about interesting anecdotes has never been my forte. Boastfully, I could mention our closest bear encounter yet, where in the midst of night two bears (we think) came within 10 yards of our tents. We heard loud rustlings in the bush outside, and Jake poked his head out to see two glowing eyes in the dark. Softling, he let out a curse word, to which the bear grunted (in what could be considered the bear version of the same word) before running off. In a more embarassing yet similar fashion, I could tell about the time I was walking the trail when I surprised a large doe. The deer sprinted up the mountain side some 20 yards, all the while making a high pitch shrieking sound. Then, it turned to face me. Feeling slighted that the deer was not scared enough to sprint away all together, I made myself big and made some noise by banging my poles together. Unexpectedly, the deer merely stood there and began stomping its feet in a display of defiance. I won't tell you who was the first one to flinch and walk away, but lets just say that you should never underestimate the utter ferociousness of nature, even does.
In a more philosophical note, the trail gives you a lot of time to simply think. Staggering up a mountain a few days ago, I came up with this connection between a hiker's mind and the trail. In the hiker world, we follow a strict routine, in terms of eating, sleeping, setting up shelter, etc. To disturb such an order causes a hiker to become extremely annoyed and upset. When your'e hiking up a mountain, your mind tends to wander to all the things that are wrong at that moment. You didn't eat enough breakfast, your sleeping pad is wet, your blister on your left foots looks like a bad playdo session, or you simply didn't like the way your pack feels on your shoulders. With each step that you dwell on the bad, the trail seems to get steeper and more rocky. At times, you reach what you think is your breaking point . You can't go another step. The only option seems to fall back down that mountain. At other times, your mind is thinking positively, and that same trail becomes one of those smooth paved walkways found in airports. Although the trail takes on the shape of your mood, I would argue that it isn't a totally mercilous demon. Even in the hardest moments, the trail gives you something back. When hikers finally reach the top of that mountain, andthey are too exhausted to even cheer or hoot outloud in triumph, insteadthey let out a soft sigh. That sound is by far one of the sweetest sounds I have heard on the trip thus far.
Take care, and I'll try and write again as soon as possible.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Day14
Two weeks in, and I have already found my favorite and least favorite parts of the trail. Favorite: going into towns that consist of a gas station and a motorcycle only bar and emptying the land of all their Cup of Noodles.
Least Favorite: Walking
Favorite: Campfires and beautiful views.
Least Favorite: Pissing blood.
My two companions, Isaac and Jake, are good friends, helping me get through the trail during the hard times. We spend the days talking about best movies, actors, books, models, food we dont have, all the time meanwhile arguing about how much miles we should walk that day. We are picking up the pace, hitting overr 20 miles for the past 4 days, which I believe is attributed to us wanting to finish as quickly as possible.
Nature wise, I have seen much, but there are still some things I am looking out for. The AT is often called the "green tunnel" because it literally is a narrow trail cloaked in bushes and trees. I have seen several small snakes (no rattlesnakes), a few wild turkeys (one that attacked us for coming to close to its nest), 12 newts, 17,000 insects, 8 wild boar (very cool, they saw us and stampeded away into the fog one morning), and about a million mice. The mice are the worst part, because you can hear them crawling all over everybody in the shelter, and going through bags looking for food. The other night, Jake left a bit of his tent open, and awoke to a mouse crawling all over his face. Isaac was laughing at Jakes misfortune until later that morning he found a family of mice that had made a home in his pack. I am waiting for my bear encounter. hiker we met said that earlier in the week he was alone at a shelter when a bear came into the campsite and began pacing back in forth. Scared, the hiker said that he threw a large rock at the bear (sounds like a very stupid idea). Afterward, the bear did run off which makes me slightly more believe when he said that he once had a "Nolan Ryan fastball" back in the day.
I will write again in a few days to let you know how the second leg of my journey went. Please forgive any misspellings, 40 other hikers are waiting to get on this one computer in Tennessee.
Least Favorite: Walking
Favorite: Campfires and beautiful views.
Least Favorite: Pissing blood.
My two companions, Isaac and Jake, are good friends, helping me get through the trail during the hard times. We spend the days talking about best movies, actors, books, models, food we dont have, all the time meanwhile arguing about how much miles we should walk that day. We are picking up the pace, hitting overr 20 miles for the past 4 days, which I believe is attributed to us wanting to finish as quickly as possible.
Nature wise, I have seen much, but there are still some things I am looking out for. The AT is often called the "green tunnel" because it literally is a narrow trail cloaked in bushes and trees. I have seen several small snakes (no rattlesnakes), a few wild turkeys (one that attacked us for coming to close to its nest), 12 newts, 17,000 insects, 8 wild boar (very cool, they saw us and stampeded away into the fog one morning), and about a million mice. The mice are the worst part, because you can hear them crawling all over everybody in the shelter, and going through bags looking for food. The other night, Jake left a bit of his tent open, and awoke to a mouse crawling all over his face. Isaac was laughing at Jakes misfortune until later that morning he found a family of mice that had made a home in his pack. I am waiting for my bear encounter. hiker we met said that earlier in the week he was alone at a shelter when a bear came into the campsite and began pacing back in forth. Scared, the hiker said that he threw a large rock at the bear (sounds like a very stupid idea). Afterward, the bear did run off which makes me slightly more believe when he said that he once had a "Nolan Ryan fastball" back in the day.
I will write again in a few days to let you know how the second leg of my journey went. Please forgive any misspellings, 40 other hikers are waiting to get on this one computer in Tennessee.
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