Punishing, Grueling Climbs punctuated by beautiful views completely obscured by fog and rain.

Chet

Chet’s Garage Hostel

Zero Day. Blazing socks and I went down toe Mr. W’s Pancake house and had a great breakfast. On the TV, the Olympics were being broadcast and it was some kind of game I had never seen before. I went back and looked it up and it turned out to be Team Handball or Field handball. It was cool. France was beating up on Angola but it was more the fact that I was trying to figure out the rules of the game by watching it that was so intriguing. We hit a couple of outfitters. I busted a shoelace and needed to get a new pair. They have like six Lahout’s stores her and each one has a different slant on it. One is a ski shop, one is a Columbia clothing outlet, one is a true outfitter and I don’t know about the other ones; but, I think they carry a lot of the same gear. We made it back to the hostel around 11 and I figured I would just take a zero day. The weather is intermittent and I’d like to be able to see something interesting if I’m going to punish myself with the climb.

David AKA “Mister F. Gentle Spirit”
Website
http://www.wbafinc.org
Photos:
http://www.photobucket.com/brotherproof
Videos:
http://www.youtube.com/WBAF1

Ver-mud, Ver-muck, Vermont

Cairns, Carns, everywhere is Cairns

Peru Peak Shelter to Greenwall Shelter: 15 miles

Dawn came slowly, over a period of hours, or so it seemed from under the bundle of my sleeping bag where I had wrapped myself fitfully through the night to avoid the onslaught of mosquitoes that bit through sock and sleeve and attacked any exposed surface. bearded though it may be. The rainsong mingled with the sound of the pregnant stream and as I finally peered from my bag, roused by the packing of my temporary companions, I was greeted by the rain-jangling foliage that surrounded the shelter. The rain on the tin roof morphed from piiter-patter to frenzy and back again all morning and I assuaged my psyche by burrowing further into my bag. I had no desire to put that wet shirt on and sling a pack on my shoulder and navigate over wet, slime-covered rocks and slip-trip down steep winding staircases of roots and rubble with a cumbersome pack swaying from left to right like the smaller of the trees I passed in the stormswept forest. My dreams were of this and other horrible things unrelated like unrequited love and naked speeches as I waited for the day to brighten. All alone in the shelter now, I tried to get it going. I got up and relieved myself in the wet bushes, avoiding raindrops and trying not to brush against the soaking pine branches. I had some breakfast; pepperoni, sharp provologne and pita, only to return pitifully to the sleeping bag, half dressed and half packed and half- hoping for the sun to break through. I knew it wouldn’t. They said that the rain would last until Friday. I wondered briefly if I had enough food to last me here til Friday. I did; but, then I would still have to walk 50 Miles to Killington on M&Ms and whatever mushrooms I could find along the way. I entertained the idea during yet another roll-over on to yet another uncomfortable position and finally decided to get up and get the hell out of there while the rain was only pittering rather than pounding. I didn’t get out of the shelter until about 1230, maybe later. I knew I had to make some miles. I was also out of toilet paper and I had three days to go. I had some moist wipes but I knew it wouldn’t be enough. Maybe I could find some in a Privy or something. I got out of there and hustled. I did find some toilet paper at a really nice privy maintained by a caretaker. I took a little extra for the next two days just in case and then I tried to get some miles. I still feel that hernia thing happening but it seems familiar so maybe I’ve had it before. I’ll walk it off. The rain kept going on and off all day. I got wet, really wet. I changed my socks a couple of times but it would only last a couple of miles before I was swimming in my socks again. It was getting dark already and I had only done about 12 miles. I was trying to get to the Greenwood shelter and I came upon this ghostly site with rock cairns all over everything. It was really spooky in the rain. I took some pictures, there were probably a hundred little rock cairns all over the place, balanced on precarious ledges and even on logs which were balanced in turn on another cairn. It was very strange. I was hoping I was at the shelter when I ran up on another display of freaky cairns. The sign that was there said it went off to some vista instead of going to the shelter as I had hoped. According to the book, I still had a mile and a half to go. I couldn’t believe it; I was sure I was there! Another 30 or 40 minutes to go in the steadily increasing rain; I was losing it. I started telling myself to keep it together. The thing was, the Shelter was another .3 miles off trail and the water source was questionable and just because it was raining like mad didn’t mean that there would be a stream. Sooner than the book said, the shelter trail came up and I trudged through rain and mud to get there. Snickers and Pack Animal were there and a bunch of kids that I didn’t see under a tarp down the hill. This rain is getting worse and I’ll probably sit around till noon or worse tomorrow. I had to find the water source and it wasn’t all that exciting: just a dribble out of a rusty pipe. It took a while to fill up and by the time I got back it was fully dark. I cooked in the dark and cleaned up and was too damn lazy to hang a bear bag. It seems like no one hangs them here, they just hang them in the shelter from mouse hangs and go to sleep; well, I might as well do it too. I’ll try to blog in the morning instead of just sitting there and watching the rain. I’m never going to catch Croc Hunter like this.David AKA “Mister Gentle Spirit”
Website
http://www.wbafinc.org/
Photos:
http://www.photobucket.com/brotherproof
Videos:
http://www.youtube.com/WBAF1

Torrential Downpour

Jeff, underexposed

Story Spring Shelter to Green Mountain House, Manchester Center VT: 22 Miles

Right now I am completely waxed. I did 22 miles today in the Green Mountains, not to mention the last four or five was in the POURING rain, on muddy mountain rocks and pregnant streams. I really wanted to get in to this city; Manchester Center, Vermont, for two reasons: One, I’m completely out of food except for a ramen packet and some coffee and pepper. Two, so I could pick up gaiters at the Mountain Goat outfitter they have here. It’s the only place in hundreds of miles that has the gaiters I want, the OR Flex-Tex Gaiters. Oh mama, are they sweet! Hopefully they will keep the sweat out of my boots a little so I don’t have to wring my socks out every four miles on tough days. Even if they help a little and I only have to wring my socks out every ten miles, it will help me out tremendously. My feet take the hardest beating once the socks get wet because they lose all their padding properties and my skin gets pruney and vulnerable to blisters and other weird conditions when they stay wet all day (or several days when it’s really rainy). Last night it rained a little but I didn’t notice. It looked like it was going to be a really good day. “Perfectly Overcast” I like to call it. No rain but not sunny enough to overheat you. I got out of camp early at around 0920. The Scarlet 7 (-5) had left just before me. Beanie was getting off for his family vacation (to Maine of all places) and his family was picking him up at the next road. Soon it would be The Scarlet 7 (-6) AKA Croc Hunter, or Vince. I’ll probably hike with him a bunch till he gets off at the end of the month. I got down to the road and Beanie was just about to leave. I got to meet his family and then I headed up the trail toward Mt. Stratton. Croc Hunter is faster than me so he’ll catch me. We talked about doing 22 miles today in order to make it to the next major highway and then hitching in to Manchester Center but it looked like there were only hotels to stay at and they were all expensive. Ahead of me was an 1800 foot climb to Mt. Stratton, a popular ski resort in the winter, it had an observation tower on top and I psyched myself up for the climb. Croc Hunter passed me on the way up and it was tough but I finally got up there. There was a Caretaker, Jean, staying in this cool little white hut. I had to wring out my socks and underwear when I got to the top. Since Vermont doesn’t have a nudity law, I just did it right there. Croc Hunter was up in the tower but I don’t think he was looking. He was trying to get service since it was the highest point anywhere around. After I climbed the tower and got some footage of haze and barely discernable mountains, I came down and all of a sudden people started showing up like crazy. There was this huge family from Atlanta and all these young girls and I was pretty glad they hadn’t come up about fifteen minutes earlier while I was standing there on a big rock, naked except for my untied boots, wringing out my underwear and socks. Now that would have been a moment! Anyway, I shamelessly promoted the website and moved on. I had a big day and the caretaker said there were huge storms on the way and flash flood warnings for the whole area. I had to get down there before the storms hit and night fell or I was never going to hitch a ride into Manchester Center. Croc hunter mentioned he might go with me but only if we could find a hostel. There was a shelter 3 miles before the road. We would meet there and figure it out then. I got to Stratton Pond and decided to jump in for a dip. It definitely smelled like a pond but I didn’t care. It felt good to rinse off the sweat and leaf particles and mud and whatever else was all over me. As I was getting ready to go, these three kids showed up. I can’t remember their trail names except for the one without a trail name who was Sean or Shawn or Shaun or whatever. He didn’t have one of those text bubbles over his head when he spoke so I couldn’t tell. They hipped me to a fabulous place that has just opened up: The Green Mountain House, a hostel that was super cool. They gave me a business card for the place and I called when I got service and made a reservation for me and Vince in case he wanted to go. I would have to catch him though, he’s fast. If he gets to the shelter to far ahead of me he’ll have time to eat and unpack and he won’t want to go. It looked like it might be dark before I got to the road which makes it hard to hitch. I started to haul ass. I had to wring my socks again and I opted for totally new ones which were fresh and dry. As I was trying to get to the shelter the ominous thunder and lightning began to play its game with me. I knew it was going to be close and I didn’t want to stop to get my raingear on cause I sweat a lot more with it on; however if I made it to the shelter before the downpour, I could keep my socks relatively dry and then don the gear for the final three miles in the downpour. I didn’t make it. The sky kept teasing me with sprinkles and thunder off in the distance. It never seemed to be in front of me though so I kept going. I wasn’t sure how far it actually was to the shelter but then it got so dark that I should have turned on my headlamp. Suddenly the rain started to really pour and I was getting soaked. I tried to hustle but it’s tough when everything is all slippery. I saw the sign for the shelter and didn’t realize it was still several hundred yards downhill. I ran down the path but I was still getting soaked. My socks still seemed semi dry though and when I got to the shelter, Croc Hunter and Greenwood were there. They though I was coming in for the night but I really wanted to make that hostel. I told Croc Hunter about it but I know he was reluctant. Eventually he broke down and got packed back up. We left during a lull that we hoped was going to be a long one. It wasn’t. As we were gong down the first hill he said, “Just for the record, I think this is a dumb idea, but what the hell, I could use some more adventure.” The trail was very wet, very muddy and not at flat as the map led us to believe. He cruised way up ahead of me and it got pretty dark again. I finally made it to the road and I was really worn out. Just as we crossed the road this Minivan was coming at us and I just threw my thumb out there as a joke and the guy pulled right over and picked us up. It was AWESOME! His name was Brian and he was from Jamaica. I thought he had stolen the car ‘cause he didn’t know how to open the back hatch or unlock any door; but at that moment, I could care less who or what he was. He was giving us a ride in the rain and he was alright by me. In fact, if they asked me to go to court to speak of his character, I’d have to fly all the way back here to do it. “Your Honor, that man is a saint and I don’t care how many bodies I was sitting on in the cargo area when he drove me into town!” For a moment I thought it was going to be a Great Adventure and then we got to the McDonalds and he wouldn’t even take a sandwich for his trouble; not even a shake! I, on the other hand, had two Double Quarter Pounders with Cheese, Large Fries, a 32oz Orange Juice and a 20oz coffee. Paul Newman does McDonalds Coffee, man! I calculated the total calories and it was 2470! Yeah man, I needed it. Jeff picked us up to take us the hostel and when I got there I weighed myself: 155 lbs I haven’t weighed 155 since I was 20! This Hostel is the nicest place I’ve stayed yet on the trail. It’s a very nice house and I can’t wait to drop into that fabulous bed!

David AKA “Mister Gentle Spirit”
Website
http://www.wbafinc.org/
Photos:
http://www.photobucket.com/brotherproof
Videos:
http://www.youtube.com/WBAF1

Hiking Au Naturale

Melville Nauheim Shelter to Story Spring Shelter, 17.4 Miles

I got out of the shelter really late, even for me. I didn’t get on the trail till 1130 because I was trying something new and writing blogs in the morning instead of late at night so I don’t bother people with the typing at the shelter. On the way out I ran into some hikers that I had met at the Unionville Mayor’s house, Shadowcast and Tangent were hanging out with two guys I hadn’t met: Filadelphia Greenberg and Greenwood. I was trying to catch Indy and the climb up Glastenbury Mountain kicked my ass. I kept thinking the shelter was coming up any time now and then it just kept going UP! I nearly bonked a few times and when I finally got to the Goddard shelter, all the people that slept at the shelter with me last night were there except Indy. They hadn’t seen him either. I stopped and had some ramen and tuna. The Shadowcast and Crew came up a few minutes later. My knee was doing OK today but it has its moments when it just hurts out of nowhere so I’m taking it easy. Later I climbed the rest of the way with showers threatening and thunder clapping. All of a sudden there was this fire tower, observation deck thing. I really wanted to climb it and take some pictures, it was well above the tree line though and lightning was looming and thunder was booming so I climbed it anyway. I have always had this idea that should I ever get hit with lightning, all my hair will turn white and I will possess super powers afterward. I realize this is a fantastic improbability but so is getting struck by lightning so I climbed the tower and kept the film rolling in case it did get struck while I was there. I pressed for the next shelter. I really wanted to go 17 today because that would put me in reach of a town tomorrow. The rain was intermittent and the rocks were slippery but so far the Green Mountains are reminding me a lot of the Smokies; wet, muddy and rainy with beautiful views obscured by haze and mist and thunderstorms. I got to the Kid Gore Shelter and it was late. Shadowcast and crew were there and I decided to try for the next shelter. They thought I was crazy and they told me so. I told them nothing. They don’t understand why I carry a heavy pack. It’s one of those things. If you get it, no explanation is necessary; if you don’t, no explanation will suffice. I like that quote but I can’t remember who said it or what it was originally in reference to; however, it fits me perfectly. Speaking of which, after I left Kid Gore Shelter, I noticed that I was getting a little chafing in my nether regions and it had me worried. My knee had been bugging me a little but that seemed to go away. I really didn’t want to roll in to the next shelter with a chafing problem so I decided to just go Au Naturale until the next shelter. That’s right, I took it all off and hiked in my Birthday suit; well actually, I kept my shirt on. I didn’t want to offend anyone with my naked chest. I discovered the other day that Vermont has no Nudity Law and you can go Au Naturale any damn where you please. This fascinated me and having a practical reason, I dropped trou and headed to the next shelter. I don’t know if it specifically helped my chafing problem but it sure took my mind off of any pain or other issues I might be experiencing. It was actually quite nice. I had to wring my socks out so I put the underwear back on and they had time to dry so they were comfortable again and I was proud of myself for having the balls to do it. I think it may become a regular thing while I’m in this state. I got in to the Spring Story Shelter and to my surprise, Indy wasn’t there. I was a little confused since no one had seen him and he didn’t pass anyone. The Scarlet 7 (-5) was there though. They lost another two and now it was down to Beanie and Croc Hunter. There were two SOBOs (southbounders) there: Clemson and Sweet Tea. I took forever to get set up but I got some eats, I’m almost completely out of food, and played some Guitar and set up camp and got to bed late. I kept hearing something walking around out there and I thought it might be a Moose. Before I went to bed I saw a big rabbit and I know they have snowshoe hares here so maybe his big feet were paddin’ around all night. Whatever it was, it was freaking me out.

David AKA “Mister Gentle Spirit”
Website
http://www.wbafinc.org/
Photos:
http://www.photobucket.com/brotherproof
Videos:
http://www.youtube.com/WBAF1

I see Moose Turds!

Not a good place to step



Seth Warner Shelter to Melville Nauheim Shelter: 14 Miles

I got up late, as usual, which leads me to think that since it’s usual than I guess it’s not late. If I got up at the time when everyone else gets up I should probably say I got up early. Acceptance is the key my man. Normal reveille for me is about 9AM and that’s when I got up, stomach growling and hungry for Pop-Tarts and coffee. It was going to be a great day I could tell. The weather was perfect. Me and Indy got all packed up at roughly the same time and headed out around 10:30 or so. Most people I know have already done 10 miles by 10:30. Not me, I get my hiking stride around 4 or 5PM I really wish I could hike all night but I don’t have a good night-hiking headlamp. Night hiking is a little sketchy too with all the slippery rocks and the faint blazes. I could wind up in Kentucky or something. I figured I’d be down at Vermont Route 9 by about 2PM and maybe that would give Truckstop enough time to call me back. I wasn’t counting on it though. Besides it would be better if I got in some bigger miles today. The climbs were reasonable and although my pack is very heavy, probably 60lbs at least, I don’t even really feel it anymore. It has more or less become a part of my body. I passed Sucker Pond and some guy sitting there painting or rather Charcoaling it and I asked him a few questions and all I got were gestures so I figure he must have taken a vow of silence or something. He looked like a Thru-hiker though. I’ve never seen him so he’s probably SOBO (southbound) although, if he’s sitting around at every pond charcoaling and stuff, I’m probably going much faster than him and he could be a NOBO (Northbounder). Regardless, he didn’t say a word and I noticed it; pompous, vow-of-silence bastard that he was. Maybe I was interrupting him… ONWARD! I managed the climb down to VT9 without a knee-splitting incident even though I was harangued my Vermont Deer Flies constantly. There is always this low-grade buzz around your head and you know he’s just waiting to land on your hat and bite right through it. At least the Mosquitoes haven’t been a problem here. I met this guy Scottie who is a SOBO and he was saying that he discovered that the mosquitoes go about 2 miles an hour and if you go just faster than that you can outrun them. I informed him that he was traveling into 5 MPH Mosquito country and I hope his legs were ready for that. My brother’s Friend Eve called me to say that she and her boyfriend could meet me up the trail. They were very generous and were talking about driving several hours to come and meet up; but, I think that’s too far. I wouldn’t ask them to do that, maybe I’ll meet up witht hem when the trail gets much closer. Truckstop still hadn’t gotten my message by the time I hit VT9 so I pressed on to tackle the uphill to the next shelter. Later I got her message saying she was laid up at her parents in New Hampshire due to a rather gruesome sounding fall into an ocean somewhere or something like that. Maybe we’ll do Karaoke in NH.
The last time I did Karaoke was in Gatlinburg with Mad Mtn. Mike and Cubit and MacGuyver. I could stand a night of caterwauling at the drunks. I really miss that. Then climb up the hill from VT9 had me pausing a few times to Ahem, check out stuff while my heartbeat returned to double digits per minute. I got in to the Melville Nauheim Shelter around 1545 with roughly 2 hours left of daylight it was a tough decision whether or not to go the next 8 miles to the next shelter. Thunder had been booming since I came up VT9 and I thought it was going to rain any second which helped me to make my decision to stay. Some folks were already there, a couple of young guys from Minnesota, one going to MIT, a guy showed up from New Hampshire, Half-way was his trail name when he Thru-hiked a few years ago. A woman whose name I forget was in the shelter already and Indy showed up while I was getting water. Two sisters, Ratchet and Awesomoppossom, came in a little while later with their dogs, Sadie and Bosco. Dinner and a campfire ensued and Guitar playing until late. The rain held off. I was trying to journal out by my hammock when all this racket went up around me. Some kind of animal was running around just outside of headlamp and computer light and I was getting a little unnerved. All I need is to startle some Drunk Belligerent Skunk coming home from the local watering hole to ruin my night most completely. I hung up the computer and hit the hammock. Around Midnight I awoke with a startle. It was silent and then the wind blew up with a tremendous howl, the likes of which I don’t think I have ever heard. It blew through the trees like a freight train and my hammock started to bob up and down; not side to side; but up and down, which meant the trees were being pulled away from each other. Lightning and thunder started popping up everywhere like a natural Fourth of July celebration. It was almost a constant show of light through the rain fly of my hammock. Then the rain started. You could hear it coming up the mountain with the howling wind and I suddenly realized that not only were we on the highest ground in the surrounding area; but, I had tied up to a tree which had already been struck by lightning. I hadn’t really thought of it except to assess whether or not it would be good to tie up to. Since it was a big tree and still living I figured it was OK; but now, with lightning assured, I reviewed the statistics of Lightning hitting the same tall tree on a ridgeline twice and the chances seemed pretty good. I have always wanted to get struck by lightning because I have this idea that after I do, I will be blessed with some Super Powers so I just laid there and waited for it. I woke up in the morning with no apparent Super Powers and a completely unsigned tent so I guess the lightning skirted our ridge. Oh well, maybe next time. Other than the vegetation being wet it looks like it will be anice day for hiking. I think I’m going to catch a toad today and put it on my head to see if he’ll stay there and eat the deer flies. It could happen! Oh yeah, this morning while I was talking about Mt Greylock I was describing these huge turds I saw on the trail that I thought were Elk or a big deer and it turns out they were from a MOOSE! I might see a MOOSE! I can’t wait! I’m going to call him Bullwinkle and see if he laughs!

David AKA “Mister Gentle Spirit”
Website
http://www.wbafinc.org/
Photos:
http://www.photobucket.com/brotherproof
Videos:
http://www.youtube.com/WBAF1