Holdin’ it in

Which one should I water?

Vermont Route 12 to Happy Hill Shelter: 17 Miles

I got up and went down to another fabulous breakfast. I’m finally going to get the heck out of here. Shelter Monkey and her friend were going to join me on the ride and slack back. Tom came by and was very patient, waiting for me to pack my gear. I wish I would have done it the night before. The girls were already packed and had their stuff downstairs. If history is any indication, I should have known better than to rush when packing. That’s when I am most vulnerable to forgetful mishaps and today was no exception. We got on the road; Tom is a Retired Army Lt Col and we had a lot to talk about. He drives a ton of hikers out to slack pack and he’s got a trail name like “Never Sleeps” or something like that, I can’t remember what it is. I got on the trail and it w3as later than I had wanted but I figured I would go far. The day was pretty nice and although rain was threatening, it never really manifested. The report said it would rain tonight so I figured I would just crash in the shelter. Passing through West Hartford, I stopped in the village store and signed the register and ate dinner. That way I wouldn’t have to cook up at the shelter because it looked like it was going to be late when I got there. I had some hot dogs and ice cream and filled my water bottle at their hose. As soon as I got on the trail I tasted the water and realized I had made a big mistake. It tasted horrible. I hadn’t let the water drain out of the hose and it tasted like it had been sitting in there for a long time. I dumped it all out cause it was a big hill I was climbing and I’d be damned if I was going to carry crappy water all the way up a big hill. Eventually I got to nice stream where I ran into two other thru-hikers bedding down for the night. I had about another hour to go so I got a liter of water and headed out. I got there after dark and there were a bunch of SoBos there. I got to bed fairly early and didn’t have a chance to blog. I jokingly complained because there was no picnic table to sit at and they seemed surprised, “Picnic Table?” I’m assuming that this means there won’t be any more picnic tables up north. Blogging at night will be that much tougher. Rain is expected…

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

Back Home Again Again

Back Home Again Again
Back Home Again Café

I got up and decided to stay another day here because I couldn’t get a hold of Tom to drive me out to the Trailhead on Vermont Route 12. I rested and took care of some business. I wanted to get out today but I went and saw a movie instead. I saw the worst movie I have ever seen in my life. Don’t go to see Step Brothers. You will wish you spent two hours grinding salt in your eyes instead. I got back to the hostel and did some more work. I went to a meeting, ate dinner and ended up talking to Shelter Monkey for a few hours before bed. I really need to pack but I guess I’ll do it in the morning. Tom is going to pick me up at 8:30 and I’ll be on my way to Hanover.

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

White River Junction Veterans’ Hospital

Back Home Again Café/Hostel

I got up and went down for breakfast which was breakfast burritos that were very good despite the fact that it’s the East Coast. Someone around here must have spent time in California. I needed a ride to the VA hospital to get my Hernia looked at and to figure out what my next step was. Should I go back to Philly and get the operation there so I could recoup at a place where I had full amenities? Should I get the operation here since there are less people around here I could probably get the operation sooner and then I could either fly home or recoup at the hostel and then maybe get back on the trail? Maybe I should just fly back to San Diego and get in line for an operation there so I could start working again and making money. Four months with no income has left me in a pretty tough predicament financially. I have gigs coming in so I’ll be fine once I start working but I’d have to lay low for a few weeks until that happens; not to mention the price of gas is so horrible that I probably would have to walk everywhere so I might as well stay on the trail. I did some work here at the hostel to earn my keep and I caught up on blogs. I talked to Yohanan and Ranan and they said they would take me out to the VA after the lunchtime rush. We didn’t get out til 3:30 and I figured they would be closed. White River Junction is about an hour away by car and Indy came with me since he’s going to catch a bus back to Boston and get off the trail. It sucks when money runs out. It de-motivates you. You figure, “What’s the use in doing big miles today? I’m not going to make it to the finish anyway.” I hope he can finish it next year. I hope I can finish it next year. At the hospital they were waiting for me. For some reason my records were messed up and it says I don’t have Combat Status History which is BS so I talked to the guy and I’ll have to get that fixed when I get back to San Diego where I have my records. I’ll have to get all that updated. The wait was pretty short (compared to San Diego) and I was seen within an hour. The doc was a woman and I was thinking, “this is the first time in a long time I’m going to have my pants down in front of a woman. I hope nothing weird happens.” Well, that’s not exactly what I was thinking but you know the deal. I managed to keep things under control (probably because I was afraid of the pain she might inflict on me during the examination). She said I definitely had a hernia although it wasn’t an emergency to fix it. I asked the big question, “Can I stay on the trail?” She looked t me for a minute and then said, “let me see if I can get surgery down here to take a look at it.” It turns out she was a hiker and knowing I was a Marine she called surgery to get them to tell me their opinion. The guy came down and did the examination and actually said that many people live a regular life without getting the surgery; however, climbing the White Mountains of New Hampshire is far from a regular life and he recommended that I not strain it and get the surgery when I could. He didn’t say NOT to hike The Whites. I was really listening too. The conversation went a little like this:

Doctor: You have a hernia but it’s not an emergency. You can get it fixed sometime in the future.
Me: I’m climbing the AT
Doctor: What’s that?
Me: I’m hiking over 2000 miles through the mountains with a backpack
Doctor: That’s insane. Really?
Me: Yeah; but what I really want to know is, can I keep going? I only have 400 miles left; but, it’s really the toughest terrain coming up. The White Mountains are very strenuous.
Doctor: Ummmmmm
Me: If I’m climbing and moving my legs would that make me more susceptible than doing something like bench presses?
Doctor: No, any strain will cause it to pop out. The position of your legs shouldn’t make a difference. Right now it’s popping right back in on its own once you relax your abdomen.
Me: If it pops out and stays out, should I just push it back in?
Doctor: Yes
Me: What if it doesn’t go back in.
Doctor: Go to a hospital. Immediately.
Me: Can I keep Hiking.
Doctor: Ummmmmm
Me: I mean, I’ve hiked a hundred miles since I noticed it.
Doctor: You should try to avoid straining it.
Me: OK sounds good!

I’m going to keep hiking for a while and see how it goes. Ranan came and picked me up after I gorged myself at the China Moon Buffet next to the Vermont Bus Station in White River Junction. These guys are unbelievable in their accommodational behavior. He drove an hour back just to pick me up and take me back to the hostel. I’m going to have to come back here for sure. I was in the bus station and looking at all the destinations and I kept thinking how easy it would be to just jump on a bus and go to Boston and fly back to Philly or San Diego and just chill out. I’m having trouble distinguishing the right voice to listen to here. I don’t want to bail out if I could have done it. I don’t want to do it as a matter of pride or Machismo. I want to keep going if this is nothing to really worry about; otherwise, I’ll be lamenting my decision until I come back and finish it. It will be hard to get back to New Hampshire to finish it. To be honest, the odds are probably slim that I finish the rest of this trail. I feel like I should get it while I can and knock out The Whites and as far as I can go into Maine. This is such a hard decision. I guess I’ll have to sleep on it. It talked to my Mom and she’s obviously against me continuing on and she brought up a good point. If I strangulate it in the wilderness I could die. If I blow it out I could mess up my ski season and I wouldn’t be able to teach this year. I just got my Level 2 PSIA and I was really looking forward to teaching this year up in Tahoe. Leave it to Mom to find the one leverage point that could undermine my recklessness. She’s a darn smart one, my Mom. I think I’ll hike to Hanover (23 miles) with my full pack and see how I feel. My knee has been really bothering me and if that is acting up too, I may just pack it in for the year.

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

Killington Peak and Cafe

Killington Trail Sign

Slackpack US Rt 4 to VT Rt 103: 18 miles

I got up early and got breakfast before I headed out on the shuttle with Papa Bear and the Preacher Boys. They were going north from US 4 and I was going south. I took my time and ran into a bunch of people I knew. I finally ran into Indy again, he had stayed at the Shelter right at Killington. When I was a Junior in High School, I saved up a bunch of money to go on my school ski trip and I got grounded for staying home “sick” two days before the trip. After my Mom put her foot down, I decided I was going to go anyway and my Mom flipped out and we had a major confrontation involving police and sirens and fireworks and a few Kung-Fu moves. Needless to say, my Jedi Master Mother prevailed and I never made it to Killington (a situation I have lamented for almost twenty years. Well, I finally made it to Killington, Mom, and it took me months to walk here. I hope you’re happy! I summitted Mt. Killington from a very steep side trail. For just a few moments, the clouds broke, the sun came out and I got a few good shots of the surrounding countryside. I walked the ridge to the gondola and had a burger at the café. The guide book says it has prices to match the altitude and although it wasn’t as bad as some places I’ve been, it was steep and delicious.

Despite the imptroved weather, the trail condition is horrible. Mud, muck and streams are what make up the trail and when you’re on the rocks or roots, they are so slippery it feels like you’re Scooby Doo, trying to run from the swamp Monster on a frozen lake; legs going every which way while you frantically try to maintain an upright position and not stab yourself with your trekking poles. The only thing missing is the slide-whistle sound effect and marimba tinkling footsteps as you jangle down the slope from wet root to moss covered rock. I also ran into ATV after I came down from Killington and we talked for a while with another hiker who was doing the Long Trail which goes from the Massachusetts/Vermont border to Canada and utilizes the same trail as the AT for the first hundred or so miles before the AT turns east and heads to New Hampshire. I got out to the road around 1730 and for the first time since I have started this trail, I went 18 miles without refilling water or changing my socks. It was great. I didn’t even eat any of the food that I brought since I had that burger at lunch. I got changed into Hitchhiking Clothes and started down the road, thumb out and smile beaming.

It took forever to get a ride. I finally got one from this nice guy after I had walked about two miles. He wasn’t going all the way in though and he dropped me off at the town’s edge. The next time I hitch I’m going to ask about that first. It was terrible; I had to walk SO FAR to get downtown. No one gives you a ride when you are in the city area. You have to be outside on the highway to get a ride. Next time I’m going to have the guys stop just outside the city and I’ll get another hitch from outside from someone going all the way to where I’m going. If I was a normal hitchhiker I wouldn’t mind; but, when you’ve already done 20 miles on the day, walking on pavement another four is depressing as hell. I finally broke down and called a cab. I had her drop me off a block away from the hostel though. It wouldn’t be dignified to show up in a cab. I’d probably get made fun of; but, I wasn’t walking another mile in this town. I got in and the town was D.E.A.D. No one was there. I took a shower and got cleaned up for dinner. I ended up at the “Two Shea’s” pub down the street watching Boston Kick the tar out of the Yankees. I got to bed early, tomorrow someone would be taking me to the hospital.

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

Slackpackin’ SOBO in the Mud and Crud

Killington Hydroelectric

Slackpack VT Rt 12 to US Rt 4: 23 Miles

Last night I found out that a bunch of the guys here were going to slackpack a large section from North to south and I decided to go with them. I’m still bringing my Guitar and camera with me so my pack will still weigh about 25 pounds with water and a day’s food. Some guys carry that much as their regular pack. I want that guitar to go every mile with me. It’s a backpacker guitar, it deserves to go the whole trail. We got out in Tom’s Truck and drove for a half an hour. My feet were completely asleep by the time we rounded the second turn. It was painful and cold with the wind blowing all over us and our packs. We got out at the trailhead about 30 minutes later and guess who was standing right there? You guessed it; Cubit. She and Kat have been hiking together and she was about to go in to Hanover NH. I was hiking south. We talked for a little bit and then I split, trying to catch up with Croce Hunter who was too fast for me. I got to the top of the first big hill on the way to Wintturi Shelter. It was a nice climb with only 25 pounds. A fella could get used to this. My hernia didn’t seem to be bothering me even though I kept thinking about it twelve times a second. For food I had only brought with me a half a bag of Gorp and one of those Maté bars which is supposed to have 540 calories and lots of good stuff in it. I passed the shelter turn off and got up to “Lookout Cabin” which was a tenth of a mile off trail but I decided to go check it out. I would have to be quick though. I was attempting a 23 mile day with a hernia. I got to the cabin and everyone was there who had come on the truck except for Daddy-O and Peacock. There was an old, dilapidated, grey cabin with a little platform on the roof accessible by a long, rickety ladder. Top hat was sitting up there on his phone, presumably the best spot for service and I climbed up to peep the view, which was spectacular. You could see all of the distant mountains you had climbed as all of the distant mountains you were going to have to climb in the coming weeks. I got back on the trail and it was tough going through ankle-deep mudslides and the trail had turned into a full-blown stream in some places. You couldn’t avoid it; however, I did relish the lack of mosquitoes and flies I might normally have expected to have to deal with under the circumstances. The day was long and I stopped once to change socks and cool my feet in a rushing stream of perfectly clear water. I crossed by Killington Hydroelectric and got some great shots of a nice set of Falls nearby. I realized that the trail and my maps were not the same. Then I looked at the date on the map and discovered that my maps are seven years old and the ATC moves the trail around all of the time. I was getting a little ticked off as I would expect a climb here or flats there and be completely off. I’m going to have to try to find better maps for the next section north. The day was long and I finally got to US4 too late to catch the shuttle so I had to hitch in; but first, I had to clean up. I hiked about a mile to a small pond on the side of the road and cleaned of and changed into dry, clean clothes so as not to offend whomever picked me up. I got back on th road and started walking and hitching. It didn’t go so well. I must have walked a couple miles before I caught a ride from a nice girl who was home from college for a week. I think her name was Anna. She got me beck to the hostel and the road was closed because they have this thing on Friday Nights where they downtown closes and they have bands and vendors and stuff. I got a shower and roamed the street, checking out all the sights and sounds. Then I heard that the Twelve tribes Community was having a special Shabbat Celebration at their house. I thought it was closer than it was and I walked there, putting my total miles for the day around 27. My feet were throbbing as I got up to the house. They were having a service inside but it was more like a gathering. It was cool, they had songs and dancing and eventually Lasagna. Six or seven people were playing a variety of instruments and the songs were very reminiscent of a Hebrew/Middle eastern sound. The dances were like that too, people dancing around in circles, holding hands and leaping and stuff. The kids and adults were all together just havin’ a blast. I would have joined in; but, my feet said, “what you talkin’ ‘bout Willis?” We had delicious lasagna and good conversation until late. I got a ride back to the hostel and eventually went to check out the bar I had heard the blues paying at the night before. It was a variety band this time and it wasn’t long before I was back at the hostel. The door was locked; but there was a note:

“Mister F****** Gentle Spirit,
If you need to get in,
call ***-***-****
-Team Awesome.”

That meant Magnus and BrüHawk were here! I yelled up to the open windows but I woke up some of the Café residents on the top floor. I hadn’t meant to do that. One of the girls from the community came down and unlocked the door for me. I could have shimmied up the drainpipe but it didn’t seem appropriate somehow in this spiritual place. I got to bed and considered taking Yohanon’s offer to take me to the VA Hospital in Nearby White River Junction to get checked out. I wanted to do the Killington Section tomorrow but then it started raining and I figured, the last thing I wanted to do was to slip off a rock with a hernia.

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

Rain Fugitive and Back Home Again

Greenwall Shelter to Back Home Again Hostel: 8 Miles

I guess I’ll get out of here sometime. I’m sitting here waiting for the rain to ease, and it has, several times. I’ve been updating my journal for the last four days. I’ll post them I think and then get going. It’s already 1210. I didn’t feel like getting water this morning. I ate a little bit and killed a few hundred mosquitoes. They are slower here in Vermont than they were in Massachusetts. I thank God for that. Maybe it’s all the moisture in the air?

Later

I got out of there around 1230 and walked over mud and slides and twisted, gnarled roots that provided conundrical stepping situations as I went down toward Vermont Route 103. The hike up and over Bear Mountain was difficult. There seems to be a Bear Mountain in every state and I have to go over it. Every Bear Mountain is also a tough climb either up or down. Maybe there’s something to this. I’ll investigate it later. At some point I was investigating the map and I realized that at Rt 103 I could just hitch a ride in to Rutland and it would actually be closer than it would if I passed over Killington where the book suggests you hitch in from Route 4. Rt 103 is a smaller highway but it’s still significant and has lots of traffic so I decided I would stop there and go in to the town of Rutland. I’ve been hearing about this hostel called “Back Home Again.” It’s run by a religious group called The Twelve Tribes. I’d been hearing all about these guys from people on the trail. They offer work-for-stay which is great ‘cause I’m almost completely out of money and I have plenty of energy to work with. I can work all day long I just can’t make any money while I’m out here. They feed you too; so it seems like all of my issues would be solved, including the “wet socks” and “soggy, muddy life” issues. I heard there is a guy who will slack pack you too. Slack packing is when you hike a section of the trail with the bare essentials in your pack for the day; basically, water, camera and lunch. Sometimes a person will drive you out to a trailhead about 20 or 30 miles from the hostel and you hike much faster and more miles back in to the place you are going to stay. There are many ways to do this but basically it allows you the benefits of staying in town without losing miles for the day. My brothers and I slackpacked one three mile section back in Franklin but I’ve resisted the temptation to slackpack so far on this trip. I hear temptation calling…
I got down to the road and the effects of the rain were evident as I crossed the last bridge over the Mill River. It was incredibly loud as the bloated river rushed throught he rock channels. It looked like the Colorado River. The narrow rock chutes took a 90 degree turn and sloshed back and forth in what looked to me to be class-four or five rapids. I wanted to take some pictures but my camera was packed up tight to keep it safe from the rain so I thought about it and kept moving; Town was beckoning.

After I got on the road and changed into Hitchiking Clothes, I got a ride pretty quick from a guy who took me all the way into where I needed to go. I’m really glad he did because where they said the town was only 4 miles away was just the very outskirts and it would have been another four miles or so to get downtown to the Back Home Again Café. I called and made sure I could get a bed and the response I got was “we’ll make room” so I anticipated it to be pretty full but there were like 25 people there; many of whom I knew like Croc Hunter and Leonides Shadow Cast; but there were also a bunch of SOBOs and non-hikers. They set me up with a great bed by the window to the main street and I would fall asleep later that night to the comforting sounds of Blues emanating from one of the local pubs across the street. Ranan greeted me as I came into the café and showed me to my bed and around the café. They have dinner for everyone at 8:30PM and then we all clean up and do various chores afterwards. Rutland is a pretty cool town that once boasted the most bars per capita in the US. The WAL-MART and the Grocery Store were only a block away so re-supply would be easy. I went and hung out in the WAL-MART among the brightly colored boxed to re-acclimate myself to society. I like doing that when I get into a town. Just like I need to be silent and listen to the forest when I get back into it. I also need to get amongst commerce and air-conditioning for a while before I can “Be” in society again. It’s kind of weird but it’s definitely something I’ve noticed since I’ve been on this trip.

The café has its own bakery and when I got upstairs I found the Preacher boys wrapping up muffins, huge ginger snaps and Maté energy bars. I had heard about these energy bars from Greta in the Green Mountain House. My work-for-stay involved moving a bunch of stuff and I was really starting to feel this hernia thing in my groin. When I lifted a box and the edge of it was against my pelvis I could feel it popping and one of the other hikers is a doctor and he cursorily diagnosed it as a hernia. I guess I better figure out where a VA hospital is. I looked up the treatment for hernia on the Internet and it looks like I’m going to need surgery. There is a chance that they can just pop it back in and I can keep going but I’m not counting on it. I’m afraid after coming all this way, I may have to get off the trail. I was really ready for the White Mountains too. I’m about to enter the most difficult section of the Appalachian Trail and I’ve been psyching myself up for it. I would hate to have to get off now. We had a delicious dinner and we had a long discussion with Ranan and Yohanan about their community which is basically like Messianic Jews but they live in a neat community which is linked to many other communities just like it all over the world. They make some awesome liquid soaps and amazing Yerba Maté drinks and baked goods. The café is awesome; made from an old barn that they disassembled and cannibalized for their décor and furniture. They have an amazing fellowship and connection with each other and their God. It’s very neat to see how the community operates and thrives with every family member playing a role.

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