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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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:
http://www.youtube.com/WBAF1

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

Feeling Wellcome

The Mosquitoes in New Hampshire are HUGE!

Zero in Glencliffe
Hikers welcome Hostel: 0 miles

I stayed up most of the night and finally got to bed around 3 or 4 am so it was interesting to me that I still woke up at 7AM to the sounds of people getting ready to get out to the trail. This cat Phat Chap is doing a bunch of shuttling but it’s kind of expensive unless you get a bunch of people to go with you. I’m teetering on the verge of leaving the trail and I’ll be talking to Doug today about the logistics of getting off. I’m hoping I get re-motivated; but, at the same time I would just love to go home and chill and get my hernia fixed. I’m willing to bet that I won’t be able to do it though. I know how I am. I’ll sit here for a day and get all fretful thinking about how horrible I’ll feel about myself if I do get off the trail and I’ll be dwelling on how I should have kept going. I know how I am. I’ll go crazy unless I go as far as I can; however, today that’s not how I feel yet so I’m going to blog and work on the pictures and talk to Doug about how soon he could get up here. Doug called and he didn’t offer any motivation; he just said I can be there on Saturday to pick you up. I felt funny about that as soon as he said it. I figured he would give me a boost or something but instead he just said, “I’ll come get you.” It made me want to keep going actually. I can’t explain it; but it did. We’re watching a marathon of movies here while it pours rain outside. There are seven or eight hummingbird all hanging around the feeder at the same time. I’ve never seen hummingbirds do that before. Usually there’s only one at the feeder at a time and then another comes and chases that one away. These ones are swarming at the feeder and they are reminding me of the Mosquitoes in Connecticut and Massachusetts. We watched about six movies today and I finally decided to keep going. I’m going to hike out tomorrow morning instead of slackpacking because this place is costing money. There’s another Hostel at the end of the next section that is free and Fat Chap charges too much to shuttle you around. This place is very cool though and I’m going to hike over Moosilauke tomorrow. It’s a rough one; 3800 feet up and 3500 feet down. I’ve heard the downward section on the north side is horrific, especially when wet. I figure it will probably rain all day tomorrow but I’m going out anyway. I had better 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

Hikers Welcome Hostel

Hexacube Shelter to Hiker’s Welcome Hostel, Glenclliff NH: 15 Miles

I got up very early. I was actually the first one up. I find that this happens a lot when I’m about to go into a town. I’m a sucker for town. Actually, I won’t even go into town but I’ll get a shower and laundry and be able to sleep on a bed; that is, if I’m not up all night doing my internet stuff and blogging. Since it’s currently 2:26 AM and I’m still typing I guess we both already know the answer to that one. The trail was as muddy as ever and although it didn’t rain, I heard it was going to rain later tonight so I wanted to get in to town early and secure a space for myself at the hostel. I also thought I might be able to get there in time to pick up the stuff Doug sent to me. I met a lot of Southbounders today and I made good time. I got to the road and it looked like it was going to be a close call to get to the post office before closing but the hostel was loaded up with people. I found an available couch and dropped some gear there to lay claim to it. I was standing there in my underwear and apparently I offended Phat Chap, the guy who runs the hostel here and drives people all over the place. I bonded with im later but I was a little put off thathe suggested I put on a pair of pants. I’ve been grumpy lately and I’m not the only one. In fact, I’m more sick of people’s attitudes out here than I am of the rain. I keep running into all these sensitive people and they are pissing me off. It’s annoying when you’re at these hostels with people that can’t lighten up. Phat Chap took us in to the grocery store and I picked up a resupply and got some steak to cook for dinner. Some people had cooked up a hug feast and eventually we had a big campfire. I was up all night trying to get stuff together from the gear that Doug sent me and update all of my blogs. The weather is not looking good. It looks like sever weather out here every day until next Friday. That’s 10 more days of rain. Some of the rivers are too very high and have to be waded through. It’s actually kind of dangerous and it started raining again a few hours ago. I’m really sick of the rain and I’m having serious thoughts of getting off the trail.

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

New Hampshire: River of Mud

This was the trail

Newton’s House to Moose Mountain Shelter: 11 Miles

It looked like the rain might hold off. Newton made some espresso and I started packing while we discussed lots of musical things with Beau in the kitchen. Beau is a drummer and he’s young but cooler than anyone I’ve met at his age. I was getting the itch and had to get out of there today. I some little toast and peanut butter at Newton’s; basically, I skipped breakfast and got on the trail sometime around 10 or 11; which was easy because the trail was just outside of Newton’s door. The Trail goes right through the center of Hanover and I would have to say that Hanover is the nicest town that the trail actually goes through. The trail was a river that trickled some places and flowed two inches deep in others. The muck and mud was constant except where there was a running stream so it often made sense to just walk in the stream rather than the soft mud on the sides. Someone had tied a climbing rope in one section but they had it wrapped around a tree at the top so it was no use for going up. Maybe it was for SoBos who had to go down that crazy, slippery boulder. I ran into a bunch of guys, Grizzly, Site, Bandai and Newt. Before I even got a mile in the woods it started pouring again so I rushed to the Velvet Rocks Shelter to wait it out. Grizzly was there with his Martin Guitar and he played a little. Some other folks showed up and we had a conversation on sexism and political correctness. I hate talking about that stuff but it’s so hard not to chime in. The rain eventually let up and I rushed out to try to get to the next shelter before it rained again. I ran into my old friend ATV again and we talked for a while but I eventually took off so I could get to the shelter before the rain. There were a lot of people there and I decided to stay in the shelter because it was raining again. I’m so damn sick of rain. I heard on the news that this has been the heaviest rain in July on record for Vermont and that probably means New Hampshire too; it figures. I hung my bear bag and got to bed fairly early. I’m going to get up early and blog in the morning before I get on the trail. I need to catch up about four days. I hope it’s not to crappy tomorrow but I know it will be. The rain is depressing as well as a hazard. It’s really tough to stay motivated when you can’t get warm, your feet are always wet and even when your spirits would have been uplifted by some of these spectacular views, you are hemmed in with fog so you get a great view of the mist and rain for at least five feet. Slipping through ankle-deep mud for miles on end is a frustrating way to decrease your mileage potential; which never helps. The forecast looks like rain for the next week as well. My knee hurts and I can’t maintain enough mileage in this terrain. I spent a good mile or two cursing God today. Then I got wise and thanked him for making me tougher. I hope that works…

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

Newtonian Hospitality

Beau and Newton Eyeing the Waitress

Newton to Newton

I awoke and changed my laundry to the dryer even though I didn’t really need to since all of my clothing is hiker stuff that’s practically dry right out of the washer. I lay back down and eventually roused myself to the sound of Paul making espresso in one of those aluminum steamer things that go on the stove. He offered me some and he took some up to Newton who was feeling the effects of the Fin Du Mondes from the night before. I got out the computer and started to fix some of the pictures and blogs while I had an electrical outlet and the internet. It was one of those lazy Saturdays and it didn’t seem like very long before I looked at the time and it was 2PM. Newton offered to let me stay another night and although I really wanted to get on the trail, it was still raining on and off and it would be nice to chill out another day. We went out and got a Hamburger at the Irish Pub and there some kind of big High School all-star football game going on at Dartmouth between Vermont and New Hampshire. We got back to the house and eventually went to catch some dinner where we ran into Beau and he joined us. Then we went to see the X-Files movie which I though was really no better than a regular episode. I’ve missed a few years of the X-Files so I might have been in the dark about some things. There were no aliens. That was surprising. One guy really looked like an alien when they flashed to him and the girl whacked him with a garden tool. I thought they were going somewhere with that; but, NOPE! We walked the trail back to Ben and Jerry’s and I met a nice Romanian girl with a “Body by Ben and Jerry’s” T-shirt on. If you had told me she had a body by Ben and Jerry’s I wouldn’t have believed you. She had a body by Hefner if you asked me. I’m glad she didn’t ask me if I wanted my cone Hand Dipped. I might have taken her up on that. We got back to the house in more pouring rain while they both pulled out umbrellas. These guys were on the ball! All I had was a parka and I had to try very hard not to get too much rain in my Mint Chocolate Chunk. I again went to sleep to the rolling thunder and rain pounding on a tin roof somewhere nearby. It’s hard for me to stay awake when the rain is zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

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

Ivy League Wanderings

Dartmouth: 0 miles

Got up on the couch and Augie Doggie was sniffin around and growlin at us so I made friends and then brushed my teeth. The girls were cool for letting us stay and we thanked them. I went to Lou’s to get some breakfast and everyone was bustling around and the food was great. I stayed there for hours and talked to so many people my teeth were falling out. Actually that’s not true but it sounded good. I had to go to West Lebanon to pick up some more HDV tapes for the camera because they didn’t have any in Hanover. It was a public transportation situation. The public transport here is totally free and that was really surprising. I got a ride to the Best Buy from a cool girl I met on the bus whose husband works for the Appalachian Trail Council. You gotta love the camaraderie surrounding the trail. I got back to town and set up the command center at the DOC so I could blog and stuff. Shelter Monkey showed up with her pal whose name I keep forgetting to ask. They decided to get a hotel and they split. I sat at the DOC and typed blogs for hours. I got some dinner at Molly’s and I wasn’t really impressed with the particular pizza I ordered. It was some weird, new pizza and it had a strange combination of toppings. The bartenders and waitresses were cool though and they were asking some questions about the trail. The manager allowed me to put my pack in her office which was very cool. The place was packed but I wasn’t feelin’ my kind of vibe so I split and went over to Babba’s place; India Queen. India Queen is a hookah bar and Indian Restaurant which has Samosas. I love samosas ever since I first had them in Africa back in 2000. Delicious meat and Lamb Samosas are like an Indian Version of the Philadelphia Steak Sandwich; just like Carne Asada Burritos are the San Diego version of the Philly Cheesesteak. I ordered a couple of Samosas and ran into Paul from the night before. A very cool couple invited me to stay at their table and we talked about the trail a lot. I’m having trouble remembering their names since I’m typing about four days later right now. They finally split and I ended up talking with a bunch of people that kept showing up until I finally met these two cool cats Newton and Paul. Newton is a professor here in Dartmouth and specializes in Electronic Music. Paul is a Philosophy Professor at another college but they were roommates back in their college days. We had a lot to talk about; music and Philosophy. Before I knew it, it was raining and it was 2AM. Newton asked me if I needed a place to crash and I accepted his offer. It seems we knew a few of the same Musicians on the West Coast. His place was very cool and he really hooked me up with sheets and a futon mattress and comforters when I could have just slept on the tile floor in my sleeping bag. He also had a washer and dryer; which really comes in handy at a time like this. I was in heaven. The window was open and I could hear the torrential downpour rage and I wasn’t experiencing it from a tent for a change. Bliss, sweet bliss! I slept like the dead.

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

Dartmouth Outing Club

Jammin' at Panarchy

Happy Hill Shelter to Hanover: 6 miles

It was raining when I awoke. I had no urge to rush out of the shelter. The rain held off all night until the morning. I actually got out of bed uncharacteristically early at 7AM and packed up pretty early; however, I ended up BSing all morning and didn’t get out of there until 9 or so. It was going to be a short one into town and I figured I wouldn’t go anywhere. I was very interested to see what Dartmouth is like and this would be the nicest town I would pass through on the trail yet. After a few miles I got out on some roads and it was road hiking from then on in. Several miles of road gets kind of boring and I eventually crossed the river into Hanover. The town is beautiful. The campus is clean and there are tons of students here since they have a requirement that their third year students spend a summer session here. The campus is so well groomed I feel like a dirty interloper, eyes wide open for a lodging opportunity and trying not of obviously ogle the beautiful female student body(s). Man I feel like a dirty, old man all of a sudden. It must be the beard. Summer is a great place for Dartmouth to be and I’m glad we coincide at this moment. I looked around and easily identified the thru-hikers among the clean bodies and intellectuals. Dartmouth has an awesome organization called the Dartmouth Outing Club (DOC) and they have maintained the trails around here for a long time. One of the halls is open to Thru-hikers to drop in and get a bathroom and drop the packs but it’s tough to find lodging here. I had a long chat with Sam and he hipped me to the haps ion the town. Tomorrow they are doing this 50 mile marathon Hike to Mt. Moosilauke where they hike for 24 hours and 54 miles. CRAZY! I tried to sign up but it’s a lottery and only 30 peeps can do it so I was out of luck. That’s alright; I have to pick up a mail drop in a town before Mt Moose anyway. I’m probably going to Zero here tomorrow. During the week, the Phi Tau house offers hikers a place to stay but when I got down there they informed me that Thursday through Saturday, they don’t do it. I wasn’t sure what to do at this point but I came back to the DOC and dropped my pack and went tooling around, looking for a place to crash. If all else fails I’ll sleep at the soccer field where they allow tenting. I ran into this cat Billy and a few other guys: Butters, Rock Steady, etc. I went down to get free pizza at Ramuntos. They offer a free slice to Thru-hikers who sign the log. IT started raining again and I figured I was going to need to hook up with someone cool and crash at their pad so I flew back to the DOC, picked up my pack and headed down to the India Queen, a local hookah bar and restaurant. I met some cool peeps; Rachel, Ed, Peter and Paul who invited me to hang with them and smoke the hookah. Tomorrow is my one year anniversary of quitting smoking. I don’t miss it at all so I figured what the hell. I hit the hookah a couple of times and we talked about tattoos and the trail until they split and I went to find food. I roamed around and ended up in some place called 5 Olde Nugget Alley Bar. I got some skins and Billy came in and told me he found a place to sleep. Eventually I went back with him and we met a bunch of girls living in this huge place that used to be a frat house. It was interesting and after much guitar playing and general tomfoolery, they went to bed and we crashed on the couches.

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

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

Twelve Tribes Medicine and Maté Bar

Yohanan and Ranan

Back Home Again Hostel

I zeroed today. I didn’t feel like I could get up and catch the shuttle to RT4 in time and do another 18 miles. I thought it would be too messy and slippery after the rain last night and the weather report was looking grim. It was the Shabbat for Twelve Tribes so everyone was off. Ranan still made breakfast though. It was very fattening. He made delicious Cream cheese-stuffed French Toast which was slathered with Vermont Maple syrup. I learned how to make Maple Syrup. Down the street was an open market and they had lots of vegetables but hardly any fruit. I found a guy who made Samosas! I haven’t had a good Samosa since Africa! I still haven’t! Just kidding, it was good but they didn’t have the same kind as they did in Africa. I miss those little, delicious goat-meat triangles. There was a movie theatre and I eventually went to see Hancock which I thought had much more potential. I called the family and talked to them all about the Hernia Situation and what I was going to do. I’m still not sure; I think I’m going to slackpack the last section over Killington and the next day go to the VA and see what they can do for me. I don’t even know if I have coverage for something like this. It’ll probably cost me 10K just to get operated on. I think all Vets should have full coverage. I’m not a fan of socialized medicine because of the poor quality of service in places like Canada and the UK; however, I think that all Vets with an Honorable Discharge should have full medical and dental coverage and I think they shouldn’t have to pay taxes. HAHA! Now that would be awesome. Maybe if they gave Vets a tax break for the rest of their lives that would be better; but basically, unless we retire, we don’t get jack and I think there should be something more. Then again, since I’ve never even really looked into Veterans’ Benefits, maybe there already is something cool and I just don’t know about it; but, I doubt it. We’ll see in a couple of days. I wish I could cut a deal with some doctor or hospital; like, I’ll sing for free at your Daughter’s Wedding or your Hospital Christmas party if you fix my hernia for free. What a nice world it would be for me if I could work out those kind of deals. I eventually went to another celebration at the Twelve Tribes house and came back to the Café/Hostel later. Yohanan offered to take me to the hospital again and I found out it’s right near Hanover, NH which is where my next section would take me. I’m considering hiking the last section and just hiking right to the VA Hospital; but, I’d probably look like one of those homeless, alcoholic Vets comin’ in for a handout. My beard is getting long.

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

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