Changing Plans: Going to New York

Butterfly on Poison Hemlock


Watauga lake Shelter to Iron Mountain Shelter 14 Miles

One thing I’ve noticed out here is that people keep saying, “The next section is pretty easy, you’ve gotten over the hard part,” and they are always LYING BASTARDS!

We woke up late and in the morning everyone left us. Rolex got up earliest and left without me and Cyclone. We took off last and crossed the Watauga Dam. Two huge brown Eagles were on the dam and unfortunately they took off before we could get good pictures of them. It was a tough day and Cyclone and I had a lot of discussion about what we are going to do about our schedule. If we are going to get off the trail by August 24th, we are not going to make Maine, it’s just not possible. I want to skip ahead to New York and at least finish out to Maine but Rolex doesn’t want to do that. Cyclone seems cool with the idea but I just found out he has to get off the trail the first week in July. I wasn’t aware of this; I thought we were all clear to go all the way to August 24th.

When we got to the shelter we had decided we would talk to Rolex and try to convince him to skip ahead. This way we can start again next year at Damascus VA during what they call “Trail Days” which is a festival for Thru Hikers in the second week of May. That way if we decided to finish the trail next year, we can start then at Damascus and just finish up through PA. After talking to Rolex we discovered he’s planning on leaving the trail when Doug does so I guess I’ll be the only one on the trail. I’m not sure how I feel about that. That’s not true; I’m sure how it makes me feel, it pisses me off. I’m cool with hiking the trail alone; but I wasn’t planning on it, and I have trepidations about the situation. I really don’t have a problem with hiking alone, we’ve been having such a hard time getting along I would prefer it at this point. I’m planning on making it to Katahdin before I have to be back in San Diego in September. I’m not sure how it will affect the film but whatever happens is part of the story.

We met some folks at the shelter here tonight and they are marveling over the computer and we are showing them some of the videos that we’ve taken. Four are from Miami, their trail names are Sunshine Bee (who spotted a mossy gorilla at Laurel Fork Falls); Piecemeal (67) (It’s taken him 7 years to get from Springer to here); Burninator (who burns things); Sweat Heifer (who shot one of her ex-husbands) and a large group of young fellows from Greensboro who roasted tortillas over a custom Spit and Grille thing made out of wood.. Right now they are throwing knives. I may go over later and give them some lessons. For now, I’m going to post blogs since we have a good internet connection from this shelter out here in the middle of nowhere.

David AKA "Mister F. Gentle Spirit"


Website:
http://www.brotherproof.com
Blog:
http://brotherproof.blogspot.com
Pictures:
http://www.photobucket.com/brotherproof
Film:
http://www.youtube.com/wbaf1
Myspace:
http://www.myspace.com/brotherproof
David's Website:
http://www.davidpatrone.com

Dehydration into Paradise

Looks easy doesn't it?


Ash Gap Campsite to Mountain Harbor B&B 17 Miles

My brothers left out of the camp early. They knew it would be a long day. We had a thousand-foot climb in a short distance up Roan Mountain and I had heard it was going to be rough. It wasn’t that bad; but while I was running down the hill from Roan Mountain to Carver Gap, my GPS fell off. We had taken a break at the Carver Gap Sign and that’s when I noticed my GPS was missing from it’s clip on my shoulder strap. I hiked all the way back up Roan Mountain looking for it because I had remembered glancing at it just as I passed the turn off for the Roan Mountain Shelter. I scoured the trailsides and never found the bastard. It seems sadly ironic to lose a GPS. This is the second one in as many months. I am so PISSED at myself! Now we aren’t going to be able to track our progress unless I can find a way to buy another GPS. We don’t have the funds to be able to do that right now so I guess we won’t be GPS logging anymore. It really hurt to lose that thing. I’m pretty upset we can’t track our trip on the website anymore. Oh well, I just gotta forget about it; find Acceptance… UGH! DAMNIT!

Earlier in the week, everyone was talking about how tough Roan Mountain was going to be and although it wasn’t easy, it really wasn’t all that bad. That’s probably because we did it in the morning. I’ll bet most people try to do it at the end of a long day so they can stay in Roan Mountain Shelter. I’m kind of pissed because nobody mentioned “The Humps.” Little Hump Mountain and Hump Mountain NEARLY KILLED ME! Little Hump came first, I was bonking as I climbed the sunny slope and I knew I was getting low on water; then, I saw Hump Mountain and I was just not ready, not worthy. I was bolstered temporarily by the sight of Rolex and Cyclone climbing through the long, waving grasses of Hump Mountain, about a half of a mile ahead of me. I thought they might stop at the top and wait for me.

Hump and Little Hump are both balds, so there is no cover from the sun, no trees anywhere and on this day, lots of sun and wind. The wind kept knocking me off balance and the sun was beating down. It was some of the toughest hiking yet. I bonked near the top of Hump Mountain but kept pushing. As I crested the top, I saw to my horror that my brothers had kept going and were still out of vocal range. Discouraged, I had to collapse for a while. I took off all of my clothes except for my underwear and I just lay there at the top of the grassy peak. Some SoBo came cruising past in the skimpiest shorts I have ever seen a man wear. Through my delirium, I began to get uncomfortable that I was laying there in my underwear and I’m glad he didn’t stop to talk. Maybe he was feeling the same way about some guy lying spread-eagle with unfocused eyes, in his sweat-soaked undies.

I managed to get back up and continue on. Shortly thereafter, I completely ran out of water with no water sources for six miles. I tried everything, I blew into the Camelbak to try and get a few drops more. I didn’t have the SteriPen, so I couldn’t purify any ground water even if I had found a good source. It was looking bad. I knew that Cyclone and Rolex were getting further and further ahead of me and I had no way to communicate with them that I needed water. I was having visions of dying of thirst and passing out and rolling down some cliff to my final resting place.

In my daze, I missed a turn and went about a mile in the wrong direction down a steep trail. Finally realizing my mistake as there weren’t any blazes, I balked at having to climb back up the hill I had just come down. My throat was sandpaper and my stomach was quivering from exhaustion. I found where I had missed the turn and in retrospect it seemed so obvious. I was angry at myself for making such a stupid mistake at such a critical time.

I kept trudging along. I wanted to kill my brothers for not waiting. As I finally got down to the end of my endurance, there was a stream alongside the trail. It didn’t look very clean and I almost tripped over an unfamiliar nalgene bottle (it was Levi’s Bottle that Cyclone had found earlier) in the middle of the trail with a note on it. It was from my brothers and it was full of clean water that Cyclone and Rolex had left for me since they had the purification equipment. I gulped the whole liter of water down in about three seconds and then I almost threw it back up. The note said that they were going in to the hostel and I dragged my sorry, dehydrated ass down to the road. I wasn’t sure where to find the Mountain Harbor Bed & Breakfast and Hostel. I took a guess and went left down the road. It was there, about a half mile down the road and it was wonderful! I collapsed on the grass next to Rolex and he informed me I had to jump up and get a shower if I was going to make the shuttle for dinner.

There were a few other hikers there: “Never the Same”, “Always Changing” and “Haha” had come in with Cyclone and Rolex. I met Tyler, a young boy who is living there with his Aunt and Uncle who own the place. They took us to some restaurant for dinner and then we came back to the barn, played some guitar, had a meeting, pet the horses and I set up my hammock nearby. It’s a really cool place and I hear the breakfast is amazing. I can’t wait. I really needed that meeting too. We talked about page 86. I didn’t realize how much I had needed that! Life is good again!

My trail name has changed as well. It turns out there is already a Jukebox on the trail. Someone flamed me in an email that I have been confusing people by posting as Jukebox on Trailjournals.com so I mentioned that I would have to change my trail name. Later, I was discussing my negative demeanor toward my brothers on the trail and I said something like, “If I wasn’t in so much pain all the time, I’d be Mister F***ing Gentle Spirit!” Always Changing said, “that’s your new trail name, Mr. F***ing Gentle Spirit.” I think it’s going to stick. It describes me pretty well.

David AKA "Mister F. Gentle Spirit"


Website:
http://www.brotherproof.com
Blog:
http://brotherproof.blogspot.com
Pictures:
http://www.photobucket.com/brotherproof
Film:
http://www.youtube.com/wbaf1
Myspace:
http://www.myspace.com/brotherproof
David's Website:
http://www.davidpatrone.com

Roan Mountain Ramblin'

Cyclone overlooking the Fields


Fire road Campsite to Ash Gap Campsite 18 Miles

I stayed in the hammock and let the fellas leave early this morning, I’m sick of being rushed so I just suggested they take off without me. I have enough water so I’ll just meet them way up the road. We had a cool camp last night despite the imminent threat of thunderstorms and crazy winds and lightning, I lit a fire. It turned out to be a good idea. We had a nice fire.

Water sources haven’t been very good and I haven’t been able to wash the mud off of my legs. I hate sleeping in my bag with dirty legs. My feet have a wet dog smell after a while and I don’t like transferring it to my sleeping bag along with the dried dirt crumbs and possible varmints living in them. I got out of camp about 45 minutes after Cyclone and Rolex. I am starting to really like hiking alone. You wouldn’t believe the things that go through my mind as I hike, especially when I’m in pain. I have been writing a novel in my head as we walk. I also go through all of these fantastic scenarios.

We got in to Ash Gap campsite and the water was way down the hill and hard to fill up. We only stopped here so we wouldn’t have to hike all the way up Roan Mountain on a 23 Mile day. They say that it’s beautiful to stay at the top of Roan Mountain but I was chafing so badly when I got in to the campsite that I just couldn’t go anymore. The space between my leg and scrotum looks just like seared ahi. I know that sounds disgusting but it’s true. I’m not exactly bleeding but the skin is bright read and rubbed off. There’s a kind of foam of dead skin collected down there and not only does it smell awful but it looks really dangerous bacterially. I asked Cyclone if we had any Neosporin and he threw me the tube. I’m really worried it might get seriously infected since I can’t really clean it. I’m not about to try and wash it. It’s excruciating to touch. I’d hate to have to get off the trail from something as stupid as Jock Rot.

I’m definitely not looking forward to the climb up Roan Mountain tomorrow but as long as I just put one foot in front of the other I eventually get up the hills in time. Continuing up Roan Mountain at the end of this day would have been a bad idea. I went and got some wood and started a fire while my brothers were down trying to get some water from the trickling stream. I’m starting to dig these nightly campfires. I have an idea they scare the bears away. It’s probably not true but I like the idea of it and it helps me get to sleep. We filmed our setup of the tents and I want to do a time lapse thing with it. I’m too tired to continue typing and it’s really uncomfortable sitting on this log. Tomorrow...

David AKA "Jukebox"


Website:
http://www.brotherproof.com
Blog:
http://brotherproof.blogspot.com
Pictures:
http://www.photobucket.com/brotherproof
Film:
http://www.youtube.com/wbaf1
Myspace:
http://www.myspace.com/brotherproof
David's Website:
http://www.davidpatrone.com

Slackpacking and the Wolf

Wet Climb



After our first real “Zero Day” (so named because it is a day in which you go zero miles), we woke up late and ate breakfast at some place called Wilson's in Franklin, NC with a bunch of other Thru-Hikers. When we got back to the Budget Inn, Ron Haven was there with his thru-hiker short bus. We got a ride up to the trailhead with a bunch of the folks we've been hanging with.

When, in desperation, my brothers and I came off the trail two days ago, we got a ride from Dave at the road about 3 miles before most people get off to go to Franklin, so the other hikers would be starting ahead of us. While we dropped them off, Ron suggested we stuff our packs in the Mountain Laurel off trail a ways and do what is called “slack-packing” to make up time. Slack-packing is when you stage your pack somewhere and get a ride further up or down the trail, and then you hike the section between without a pack; or, with a significantly lighter pack, carrying only daily essentials. Our hiking speed was dramatically different. We slack-packed Rock Gap to Winding Stair gap (about 3 miles) in less than an hour and then picked our full packs up (reluctantly) and picked up where the others had started earlier that day..

The climb up to Wayah (“Wayah” means wolf in Cherokee) was horrible and I was constantly on the verge of bonking; but we were still making good time until somewhere in the middle of the day when it started to rain again. Soon came hail and torrent while lightning was striking the mountains all around us. There were times when the lightning would strike less than a thousand feet away. The “Wolf” was definitely howling. Thank God our Mom used to take us out on the porch when we were young to "enjoy" the summer electric storms in Pennsylvania. It was kind of like that, only scarier and a lot wetter. At times we were walking in ankle deep rivulets as the steep trail turned into a flowing stream. The good thing is that we got hit so hard the last time with rain that we went to an outfitter and upgraded our gear. I can’t express how glad I was that we did that. It could have been so much worse.

By the time we got to Wayah Shelter, the rain had subsided; but of course, all was wet, the shelter was full and so were all of the campsites. A girl named Trailfox was there along with two guys named HaHa and Slow. There was this crazy, old Army Ranger dude who admitted he hadn’t been taking his meds and we encouraged him to do so (especially after discovering his vast collection of combat cutlery and enthusiasm for demonstrating its use) we met Longtoe from Austria, and the rest of the crew was there, like Cubit, MadMtMike and others.

It was COLD... AGAIN! Our spaghetti was damn good though. We just came up with a new method and I’m really happy about it. We mixed up some tomato paste and some sauce mix and cooked up a pound of angel hair pasta to split between the three of us. It was DAMN GOOD! I hung my hammock from two trees on the side of a crazy hill while most of the guys looked on with dubious curiosity; uncertain of the hammock’s feasibility. It’s good I had that thing ‘cause I wouldn’t have been able to put up a tent anywhere. It was hard enough hanging it between two trees on this crazy slope with wet leaves sliding everywhere. Everything was on a hill and everything was wet. The night was dreary, it rained some more and sleep came none too soon.

David AKA "Jukebox"

Website:
http://www.brotherproof.com
Blog:
http://brotherproof.blogspot.com
Pictures:
http://www.photobucket.com/brotherproof
Film:
http://www.youtube.com/wbaf1
Myspace:
http://www.myspace.com/brotherproof
David's Website:
http://www.davidpatrone.com