Acceptance: Time to go home

Acceptance: Time to go home

Hiker’s Paradise, Gorham NH to Dad’s House in Philly

I woke up thinking I might try to get a ride back up to the top of Mt Washington but it looked like it was going to be too much of a pain in the rear. I called my Dad while eating the “hiker special” to discuss options. He surprised me, saying he could be there in 10 hours, so I gave in and said, “OK, come and Get me. I’m ready to come home.”

This trip has by far been the hardest achievement I’ve ever attempted in my life. I knew when I began that it would be rough; but, I really had no idea what I was in for. It goes without saying that I experienced a truly unique adventure. I have met diverse and deliberate people who treat the trail with respect and awe. I walked a thousand miles, up mountains and through valleys of mud-slick rocks and roots and streets through both rural communities, remote wilderness and heavily populated National Parks in the last three months. I faced the surety of defeat almost from the beginning of my trip, knowing I would not be able to realize my dream and complete the entire trail; striving regardless, even when my brothers left me for reasons that angered and saddened me at the time. I spent an unhealthy amount of time in constant dialogue with myself and became even more acquainted with character flaws and attributes I was already familiar with. I’m not sure if this even served a purpose. Self Knowledge seems so trivial in the bigger scheme of life. It seems to only obscure God’s Will which I admit is still unfathomable to me; although, I hope my travails will serve us both in the future. I am beginning to know nothing. I gained a level of fitness that I am both proud of and fearful to lose. I know it will be hard to motivate myself to maintain a regimen that will keep my physical being in this kind of shape and I will surely lament its decline. Acceptance. My body is damaged and broken in places and probably will be for months before I can use my legs and feet normally again. I’ll need surgery to fix my hernia and my financial situation is dire. I’m not really worried though. I have spent the last few years in a program that emphasizes Acceptance and I have grown in unbelievable ways. Despite the peace I feel from accepting that my trail is at its end for this year, I cannot ignore the visceral feelings of guilt, loss and unease at not having gone further or longer. I catch myself glancing upward at the surrounding mountains as if I might grab my pack and do another twenty miles; continue on and tell my family I’m going further. I know the next year’s thoughts will be full of deliberation concerning completion and or closure on this Appalachian Trail. For the fifteenth time this morning, I resign myself to go down to the Laundromat and scrub my clothing and gear so that it won’t contaminate Mike’s car when they come to pick me up. I wish they were here already. I continue to glance at the mountains I have left to climb, alternating between humility and resentment. I have learned that you cannot feel both at the same time; however, they can relentlessly switch back and forth; some kind of emotional strobe light, flickering jitters in my soul. Ahhhhhh Acceptance… When will you come?

David AKA "Mister F. Gentle Spirit"
Website
http://www.wbafinc.org/
Photos:
http://www.photobucket.com/brotherproof
Videos:
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Friends in High places

Friends in High places
Crawford Notch to Mitzpah Hut: 7 miles

It didn’t rain last night and I was so happy I got up early. The pad worked well and I had a great rest. It turned out that Shawn and Sage were in the campsite across from me and they invited me to coffee. We talked for a good while until I felt the tug of the trail and I had to get out of there and pack up all my stuff. The two of them were very cool. It was refreshing to see Dad and daughter having that kind of report and getting along so well.
I got up to the store and one of the guys gave me a ride out to the trailhead. The climb was tough up Webster Cliffs to Mt. Webster. It was ping-ponging back and forth from sun to rain and I kept changing my wardrobe to match, finally I resigned to just keep all my raingear on and to hell with it. I am glad I did. Last night when I was taking a shower I was checking out my hernia and it looks like it’s getting worse. The climb up this mountain was not helping things. There were many times I had to just climb up over rock faces or throw my poles down and scramble over wet boulders. Knowing I have the hernia was making me climb cautiously and that was dropping my progress to about one mile an hour. I ran into some cool people and took the opportunity to rest and talk.
Eventually I got to the Mitzpah Hut. I was intending to go another 5 miles to the Lakes of the Clouds Hut just before Mt. Washngton but I was beat up and dripping when I got there. They let me do a Work-For-Stay even though I was an hour early. I took it. At the rate I was traveling, it would take me 5 hours to get the 5 miles to Lakes of the Clouds and than it would be almost dark and I would have to stay in a dank basement there (or so I heard). Mitzpah was the Mitzvah for me! The “Croo” there was very cool.
I washed dishes again and the Lasagne was really good. They do everything vegetarian here because you can’t put meat in the compost. They really take their conservation seriously up here. Everything is considered and all green technologies are used. It’s very interesting to see how easy it is once you get it going to be “low impact.” The weather is rumored to improve; but, I’ll believe that when I see it. I did get glimpse of the half-moon as I fell asleep on one of the dining room tables. The clouds were moving very fast; however, and soon it was gone; appearing occasionally in the night through the mist and rain.

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

Frozen Underwear

Galehead Hut to Crawford Notch General Store and Campground

It was still raining when I woke up. The mist pervaded everything and I hadn’t slept very soundly due to the sound of the wind-generated electrical harnesser thing on the roof that moaned and whined all night with the gusts that came up the valley. The “Croo” got breakfast together and the regular folks ate breakfast while we thru-hikers sat over in the corner like hungry dogs waiting for a scrap from their master. This is the way it goes at the huts so I guess it’s cool, at least, we knew it would be thins way so there’s not much to complain about. At least we’re not paying $89 to stay there for the night. We do work-for-stay (WFS) at the huts but technically there are only two slots at each hut for Thru-Hikers and so invariable there are many more than two Thru-Hikers coming through, looking for WFS and sometimes we get turned away and have to hike on to the next hut or camp out in the woods; which they discourage due to the fragility of the alpine environment. It’s a hypocritical situation and it all has to deal with money. The Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC) runs the section of the Appalachian Trail that goes through the White Mountains. Basically you have no choice but to stay at one of their facilities be it a campground or a “Hut” which is actually more like a chalet and costs about a hundred bucks a night to stay there. They charge to stay in the campsites too although for Thru-Hikers it’s only $8-12. If you get to a “hut” at the right time, you c an get WFS and do dishes, sweep, scrub the oven or clean out the freezer for your stay and for dinner and breakfast. Of course, the normal guests are served first and they want you to go sit outside or disappear while they eat, like peasants or something. The thing is, the “Day Hikers” all want to talk to you and hear about what it’s like to be a Thru-Hiker so sometimes your WFS can involve giving a presentation to the group after dinner. Most of the people who come here are very well-to-do and I guess the AMC figures they don’t want to be bothered by a bunch of rough-and-tumble, smelly Thru-Hikers. We’ve known it would be like this but the fact that the AMC offers no alternatives for Thru-Hikers gets us a little pissed off and there we were, over in the corner; at least they didn’t make us sit outside in the freezing rain. That would have been pretty rough at 7AM and I have heard of it happening to a lot of Thru-Hikers. After the gentry were served, we got to eat all of the leftovers; basically, Pancakes. I’m just glad I got to sleep in a building last night rather than some dilapidated shelter. The temperature has been going down to the low 40s with a wind chill factor in the low 30s. Add to that the rain and hail and you’ve got yourself a hell of a night in the wilderness. After breakfast I did some journaling and everyone was marveling over the computer. That always seems to happen. Most of the Thru-Hikers I know are used to it by now. I was hoping the skies would clear up but it didn’t look probable. Eventually I got my wet clothes back on and got ready to head out. There’s something very harrowing about putting on cold, wet underwear that really bothers me. Obviously it the same underwear as the day before; but, that part doesn’t phase me anymore. I’ve been doing that for three months now. You generate a lot of heat out there once you start hiking and if you are like me, you hate to stop and take off your pack once you are going so you try o wear the clothes that you would want to be wearing once you are all hot and exerting yourself. The problem with that is that you put on clothing that doesn’t keep you warm until you’re climbing a hill and as soon as you stop, you start getting cold again. The constant rain we’ve been subjected to makes it so that nothing ever gets dry so not only it is it skimpy, but it’s wet and REALLY COLD when you put it on. Bitter cold, wet underwear is one hell of a shock in the morning; more effective than the strongest cup of coffee. I got out on the trail later than most but managed to pass almost all of the day hikers before the next hut where I was treated a hot cup of $3 “bottomless” soup. I threw in a packet of tuna to up my protein. The sun had come out and I ran into some of the younger day hikers and sat at the table with them while we discussed life and they gave me pieces of their bread. It was cool and I hated to split but I had to get down to Crawford Notch and hitch in to a place to stay. I had no idea where I would go and thankfully the trail down was easy. When I got to the road, there was a hostel 3 miles to the left and a hostel three miles to the right. I stuck my thumb out to both directions of traffic and let the fates decide which one I would go to. A day hiker who was passing by picked me up and took me to the right: The Crawford Notch General Store and Campground. The place was full of Thru-Hikers so I had to rent a campsite and pitch my tent. I hope it doesn’t rain. The folks there were very accommodating and I got a shower and did my laundry; although I was up ‘til about midnight getting it done. While I was in the General Store picking up some Ben and Jerry’s and some Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups I met Shawn and Sage. Sage was a cute little girl accompanied by her Dad Shawn who had taken her fishing that say and she caught a rather large “Native” trout. She was extremely excited about that and I was struck by how cool that was. They brought their catch in to show us. I guess I have never seen a Native Trout before; but, they have a bright orange underbelly and to hear Sage tell it, they put up a darn good fight. I set up my hammock in the dark and got to try out the Big Agnes inflatable pad that I modified for the hammock.

David AKA “Mister F. Gentle Spirit”
Website
http://www.wbafinc.org
Photos:
http://www.photobucket.com/brotherproof
Videos:
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Into the Great Whites, North

Lafayette, I think

Franconia Notch to Galehead Hut: 13 Miles

I convinced everyone to go to Mr. W’s Pancake House again and we had a full table. All the usual suspects were there: Creek Diver, Whisper, Blazing Socks, Superman, Crosby, and two other guys I can’t remember right now. Breakfast was just as good as it was the day before. I had the Mr. W’s Big Breakfast: two of everything; including chocolate chip pancakes. It looked like we were going to get on the trail late and we did. Dutch dropped us off at the bike path and we had to walk a mile to get to the trailhead and we didn’t get there until about 11AM.

The day was sunny and clear. I was so happy. The forecast said thunderstorms but it looked like the sun might hold out until we got to where we were going. I hadn’t anticipated the difficulty of the terrain however and it seemed like I couldn’t get any faster than about 1.5 MPH. I got up to Franconia ridge and I was still in the trees. Every once in a while you could see out across the White Mountains and it was hinting spectacular. I couldn’t wait to get above tree line so I could view the whole scene. Clouds continued to threaten and I was really worried I might get hemmed in before I could see it but eventually I summitted an unnamed peak and although it was getting cold, I was rewarded with my first unrestricted view of The Whites. The clouds were just above the peaks and it created an amazing effect like you were in a small room; just you and the tallest mountains in New England. Once you get above tree line, there are a series of peaks: Little Haystack, Mt. Lincoln and Mt. Lafayette, each hidden behind the one you are climbing and each higher than the next. Just as you summit one, you are rewarded with a beautiful view of the ominous climb you are about to endure. The climbs are tough but the view is encouraging. The descents are painful, joint-pounding scrambles. It looked like me might get through the day unscathed and dry; although, there were thundering rainstorms off to the south and to the east. You could see everything from Mt. Lafayette and as we went over, a huge cloud enveloped us and dropped a little rain; but, it passed and kept moving westward. We descended back into the thick trees and shortly thereafter the rain and hail started pounding down without any warning. I was pissed because I hadn’t seen any other clouds anywhere. It’s like the rain just materialized out of nowhere. It would make the going slow and I was trying to get to the Galehead Hut before 6. The climb over Mt. Garfield was brutal, with scrambles and face climbs that didn’t seem fair somehow. It seemed like it took forever to get to the hut. I had seen it from Mt. Garfield and it seemed encouragingly close. I got in around 7:30 and it looked like they might turn me away because there were already a bunch of thru-hikers there, including two guys I hadn’t yet met named Hammer and Smokin’ Joe.

Due to the weather conditions they took mercy on me and allowed me to stay. The place was packed with day hikers and people up for the weekend. We had to disappear while the guests ate dinner. I guess nobody wants to look at a hungry thru-hiker while they are trying to savor their dinner. After they ate dinner and went in to their bunkhouse, we set up in the dining area and went to sleep. I slept great on a table using Doug’s Big Agnes air mattress thing that he sent to me. I hope the weather is better tomorrow. The forecast said it might be nice but it’s still raining and blowing hard as I go to bed.





David AKA “Mister F. Gentle Spirit”
Website
http://www.wbafinc.org/
Photos:
http://www.photobucket.com/brotherproof
Videos:
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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:
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Steeper than it Looks

This is much more steep than it looks

Kinsman Notch to Franconia Notch: 17 Miles

A couple of people were going out to Kinsman Notch so I got ready and got a ride with them. “Dutch” is a girl from PA who is taking a break from the trail and does some shuttling for hikers here at an incredibly reasonable cost. She swung by the post office so I could pick up a package and then took us out to Kinsman’s Notch. I went north and the other two; Songbird and ? continued SoBo and I headed North for another rough climb. The climb out of Kinsman’s notch would have been horrible with a full pack and I was damn glad to be slack packing. The second climb was really tough and I have to say it made Albert Mountain look like something you would give your kids to play with from McDonalds. The weather was nearly identical to when I did Albert Mountain and it was another day of grueling, painful climbs punctuated by a magnificent view, completely obscured by fog and mist and rain. I actually like the way it looks up at these treeless peaks with nothing but fog drifting over the scrub; however, for taking pictures or sharing it with anyone, it doesn’t do any good at all. There’s a unique solitude up there when you are hemmed in by cold, blowing mist and I really enjoy it; however, I always feel like I’m missing an opportunity to film a great vista for people back home. The day was very hard due to the terrain and mud. At one point I put my foot in mud up over my knee and missed smashing my kneecap on a big log by a millimeter. Needless to say I wasn’t too happy about that. There were several high-altitude ponds and the sun came out a few times so that you could see the surrounding mountains; but, nothing that presented a good picture. During the roughest climb, part of it followed alongside another series of waterfalls and I was glad to be going up it this time so I could enjoy the rushing stream and waterfalls without risking my life on a precarious descent; still, the climb was technical and difficult. I’ve heard that this particular stretch I’m in is the toughest on the trail and I hope they are right.

I got to see my first AMC hut today and although it was impressive, I hardly think it’s worth the 80 bucks it would cost to stay there if I wasn’t a thru-hiker. Maybe the other ones will be better. I got a bowl of soup there for a dollar and that was cool. Just before the hut I ran into Mike, Snake Charmer, Shelter Monkey, Dust In The Wind, and a few other hikers I had been running into for the last week or so. We all hung out at the hut for a minute and then I took off. I wanted to get to the road and get in so I could go to McDonalds. They have one in Lincoln and I was really dying for a Double Quarter-Pounder and Fries. I’m getting too skinny!

The trailhead at Franconia Notch was confusing. I ended up walking about a mile in the wrong direction down the Highway and then I came all the way back to find I hadn’t been walking in the wrong direction technically; however I wasn’t on the AT, so I redid that part and got a ride in with Mike. We were all soaked and Mike is a section hiker who had his car there. Thank God! We would have been walking a long time if he hadn’t been there.
Back at the hostel I got a shower and went to McDonalds, grocery and pharmacy. Tomorrow I need to get a new shoelace and mail a bunch of stuff back to Doug If I can get all of that done early enough I’m going to get back in to the Whites for the remainder, probably another week. The climb back in is going to be rough. The next hundred and fifty miles is supposed to be both harrowing and beautiful. Let’s hope the weather allows me to enjoy the views and my hernia doesn’t interfere with my endurance.

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

Moosilauke in the Rain

Hikers Welcome Hostel to Kinsman Notch then Chet’s House: 10 miles

I spent the morning finishing up an email update and sent that out so I didn’t get out on the trail until about 11 or later. I can’t remember. I had to ford Jeffers Brook and that meant taking off my shoes. The water was about knee-deep and I wore my Crocs to get across. While putting my shoes back on I was marauded by a gand of street wise Mosquitoes. They knew where to bite me without me being able to get them or see them until it was too late. I got the boots on and picked up the pace. They stayed vigilant until I got some elevation. The climb was rough but I had psyched myself up for it so it wasn;t too bad. That only works once in a while. After it works once or twice you start to expect that it will work and then of course it doesn’t. This is why I’m not a pro athelete. I can’t figure out how to trick myself every time yet.

I passed a ton of day hikers on the way up; lots of kids from local camps. The weather cleared up nicely but by the time I got to the top is got all fogged in and cold again. I met some cool people and was talking to them and so by the time I got up there the sun had gone and I was alone at the summit. It was very surreal as the mist drifted across and all you could see was shadowy cairns through the mist. I caught some of it on tape and then I kept on. I had a short day in miles but I knew that the final section was a scary downhill even when it’s not raining, and as I got closer, the thunder got closer and the rain began to fall.

I dropped by the Beaver Brook shelter and ran into two people who told me the climb down was going to be really tough. I only had a mile and a half to get to the road but they said it was taking people two hours to go that far. I found out they were not exaggerating. It took me over an hour just to do a mile of the section. It was crazy. There were weird wooden blocks drilled with Rebar into the side of igneous rock flows that looked almost like they were there at the time of the original lava flow. Sometimes I see the stone work people have done to make these trails passable and I can’t believe the tings that people have accomplished. Other times I wonder if anyone has done anything at all. The climb down was treacherous and frustrating. The rain made everything tougher and believe me this descent would have been tough enough on dry rocks. For a long time the trail joined a long series of cascades and it was absolutely awesome to climb down the rocks with this huge series of waterfalls alongside you. It was distracting though and the last thing you need in a place like that is distractions. I had to keep telling myself to concentrate. I fell down about four times but I’ve learned to take the little falls without trying to save myself. When you try to save yourself, that’s when you get in trouble. Wild recoveries only put you in more perilous positions and so I’ve figured out to just take the unbalanced fall and drop onto my pack instead of flailing and trying some wild recovery.

I eventually made it to the road and there were hardly any cars going toward Lincoln. It was something like a ten mile walk too. I had walked about two miles and only four cars and one motorcycle had passed in almost forty minutes. Things were not looking goods and then this Forerunner that was going the other direction put on his signal and pulled over and asked me if I was a thru-hiker. It turns out this guy and his buddy were going to be doing trial magic up at Kinsman Notch this weekend and he had some time to kill so he decided to pick me up and take me in to town. His trail name was “Gold Thumb” and he was returning the magic he had been given in the past. We got in to town and found out where the hostel was and dropped off stuff and went back out. I eventually got dinner and he dropped me back off at the hostel. Chet’s Place is great. A bunch of people where there. I found out that the night before he had a record 31 people all staying there. Tonight there weren’t so many and I got a spot so I wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor. I decided I would slackpack the next section north from Kinsman Notch to Franconia Notch and settled in to get some sleep.

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

New Hampshire is Melting!

Someone is hiking in Bare Feet?

Moose Mountain Shelter to Hexacube Shelter

I slept on the hard floor of the shelter again. Doug is sending me his sleeping pad and I can’t wait. With all of this rain I have been using the shelters instead of getting my hammock all wet and having to break it down and carry a wet tent for days. Last night while I was hanging my bear bag I got the line stuck way up in a tree and I had to climb up there on this wet, mossy tree that I wasn’t sure could actually hold my weight. I was a little worried about the hernia but I couldn’t lose my bear line and I tried everything to get it down. The rock I tied to the line got miraculously stuck in a fork of branches. I couldn’t believe it except that it was just another thing to make the day a little worse. I managed to get up there and get it down but it was treacherous going. I think I popped a stitch or two but I’ll be alright. I tossed and turned a little on the cold, hard floor but I’m getting used to it. Rain was splattering on the shelter roof all night and it sounded like someone dropping pebbles on a tin roof. That surely didn’t help anyone sleep. I got up and ate all of my Pop-Tarts and got on the trail by 10 or so. The climb was treacherous as usual. The skies kept threatening; but, it never really rained. It got sunny for a second or two and then it kept getting colder and colder. I thought Vermont was bad, it has nothing on New Hampshire in terms of mud and muck. Sometimes I can’t believe it; the trail is horrible. You find yourself foolishly trying to balance on these slippery, wobbling logs that are in the middle of deep mud fields or foolishly trying to skirt them by walking on the crumbling sides of the trail that have you inevitably sliding right back in to the deep bogs. This has been the case for a month but now the bogs last for hundreds and hundreds of yards and you just can’t escape getting mud all over everything. The climb up to Smarts Mountain was rough. There was a cool looking fire tower up there though and I wanted to get some good views on film since it wasn’t all foggy for a change. IT was windy and cold up top but the fire tower’s windows were intact and it was cool to be up there with the wind howling and views of all the surrounding mountains. I was thinking of calling it a day at the Fire Warden’s Cabin but it was only like 10 miles when I got there and saw a whole bunch of girl scouts or explorers or something. They were taking up the whole cabin and I was standing there in my soaking wet underwear when it occurred to me that it probably would be prudent for Mister F. Gentle Spirit to sleep elsewhere tonight. I had planned on making the next shelter anyway but I was damn hungry and out of water but I singed the register and kept moving. It was going to be a good haul to the shelter and I was starting to chafe pretty badly. It was another five miles and I was seriously thinking of going Au Naturale but I was worried about running in to more girl scouts. We weren’t in Vermont anymore. By the time I got to the Hexacube Shelter, I was seriously chafed in my nether regions; another side effect of being wet for 48 hours straight. Site, Bandai, Newt, Butters, Hard Rock and some SoBos were there but it was a huge shelter. I spent a while getting washed up and applying a ton of Neosporin to the affected locations and cooked dinner in the dark. I felt sick for a little while and I thought I might pass out for a minute. I lay down for a minute before I resumed eating my Ramen and Salmon. I am almost totally out of food and I have a good hike ahead tomorrow. It’s going to be a rough one. I’m going to have to eat a lot of blueberries or something. I’m even out of GORP which NEVER happens. At least I’ll be really light tomorrow and I’ll be able to move quickly up the hills. The next section after tomorrow is going to be very rough. Mount Moosilauke is a 3800 foot climb which then goes back down to 1900 feet in only 9 miles. This will be the first test to see if I can handle a tough climb with the hernia.

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