“Heat, Reimagined”

AT Day 84

Miles Today: 24.98

AT Mile: 1528.0

(Great Barrington, MA [tent])

I didn’t like Connecticut. I don’t know if it was Connecticut’s fault or if it was just circumstances.

The temperatures were unbearable and the mosquitos were intolerable. In short, I hated the Connecticut section of the Appalachain Trail, and I hope to never step foot into that state again.

I told my friend Hemlock that although we are still friends, I now like him just a little less on account of his living in that state.

Things aren’t all fixed now that I’m into another state. Granted, my soul feels a bit better, there is still weight in my footsteps.

Like I said last night, the trail is wearing me down and breaking me apart. I feel like I’ve lost a lot of the things about myself that make me who I am. I’ve lost a lot of what I was proud of, in pursuit of this new thing that I can perhaps become proud of. I don’t like that my fitness is faltering so heavily, that my muscle is shrinking, that my face is bloating, that my skin is breaking out, that my posture is slouching.

I’m not as happy as I was in the first two months of the Appalachian Trail. In fact, most of the time this trail is not happiness anymore. Most of the days are quite unpleasant as of late, and I find myself feeling prematurely done with the hike.

There haven’t been any moments where I’ve truly considered leaving the trail, but I’ve been as close as I can be expected to get in the preceding days.

Today there were quite a few heavy climbs, which brought the trail up into higher elevations and really beautiful river stretches. Temperatures were around 85 degrees, which felt cool in comparison to the hell that we’ve been navigating through this recent heatwave, but I have to remind myself that the first day I had anything that felt like extreme heat was in Virginia when it hit 84 on the Roller Coaster. Funny that 85 now feels relatively cool and comfortable by comparison to how it felt only a month ago.

Mind you, I’m still m covered in sweat most of the day. There was a point today at one of the peaks where Hemlock and I rested in the open air and sun, a rare moment like that on the AT, and we let things dry. That only lasted about five or ten minutes after getting back to trail, but it was somewhat nice still, if only to be reminded what it was like to wear dry clothes. But even that is far from a perfect moment, because my clothes are also marinated in sweat-brine now, so even when they’re dry, they’re still discolored, stiff, and tacky to the touch.

I still hate being soaking wet and sticky on trail, but it’s something that I’m almost growing used to. It’s still just as awful as it ever was to me, but I’ve learned to accept that it’s just part of being out here.

People are telling me that these temperatures aren’t normal though. I’ve heard from several of the locals that the most recent heat wave and the overall high temps that we’ve had this summer are not what this area used to be like. Maybe it’s just global climate change, or maybe it’s just an especially hot summer, or maybe it’s both. For what it’s worth, I’m also having a lot of the locals tell me that it’s rained far more this year than in summers past. So I’ve found myself on the AT on the wettest and hottest year in memory… wonderful…

Hemlock made comment about my sweating yesterday and again today. He said that he’s never seen someone who sweats as much as I seem to on trail. I mean, he’s soaked through too, but he commented on how I’m using this towel over and over and wringing it out over and over, and he said he can’t imagine how I’m managing to keep up with that much lost fluid. I told him that this isn’t normal for me. That I know I sweat a lot in all conditions, but in this humidity my body is not acting normal. And I’ve observed several times that although others seem to hate this heat as well, they don’t seem to be quite as deep into the layers of hell as I have been these last few weeks.

Hemlock didn’t sleep well last night and his body was hurting him all day. Plinko is still fighting the upper respiratory infection and sounds quite terrible. The day was rough for me today as well, but I feel like I might have been the better of the three of us. By the end of the day Plinko had to take a long road walk cut off because his lungs were bothering him too much, and Hemlock’s feet are now forming blisters all through the soles. I’m actually worried about both of them, in a subtle sort of way. I know Hemlock will be okay and I know that Plinko will get through and get his trail legs back. But I also know what it’s like to be in this trail in good condition, but add one extra challenge like blisters or a respiratory infection, and difficult starts to ebb on impossible.

—

Unrelated to all of this, but I saw more snakes today than any other day of the trail. None of them venomous, but so many that I almost stepped on one. I actually think I might have stepped on him a little bit before he quickly wiggled away. I must have seen at least six or seven of them.

—

My mind wanders all over the place during the miles, just like it did at the start of the trail. But in many ways I feel changed as a person from this time on trail, and I see some of the problems differently than I did before. That had a lot to do with what I was looking for from the AT too–a changed perspective to view my life.

I still spend a lot of time thinking about love and loss during the miles. I don’t want to admit how many miles I spend thinking about the woman who I was engaged to marry two years ago. Some days I feel softly towards those memories, but a lot of days I feel a tremendous amount of anger and resentment still. That then leads me to feel the same anger and resentment towards myself for still being lost in those things. I spend time thinking about a lot of my past lovers. I wish I were not so human. I wish I didn’t spend so many miles there.

Strangely however, one thing that has changed along these miles has been my relationship to the prospect of being independent and alone. I came out here feeling like the prospect of being alone was the worst thing that I could even think of. Now, I find myself in a lot of the miles wondering if alone is what I might actually need to be at this stage of my life. That of course brings up Boots, and oh how I spend a lot of miles with thoughts of her.

Nothing’s ever simple.

Nothing that matters anyways.

We love, and we lose.

We are born and we die.

We laugh and we cry.

We walk until someday it’s time to stop.

—

In the city of Great Barrington tonight. Back to trail tomorrow morning after coffee.

This town doesn’t seem to like hikers. Some of the people are cool here, but the downtown area feels like Sedona/Gatlinburg in terms of its polished tourism. We, on the other hand, look and smell like homeless people. And that led us to a lot of sideways looks and “you aren’t welcome here” vibes. The $17 price tag on a plate of nachos also gave the “please f*ck off” vibes.

It’ll be good to get back to trail tomorrow. Got laundry. No shower. But I’ll likely live.

I’ve also put my return date on the calendar. I’ll be returning to AZ by September 1st. Going back to work and planning to move into housing by then as well. So that’ll give me about 2 weeks of down time between finishing and going home.

Wormwood.