AT Day 77

Miles Today: 26.13

AT Mile: 1404.2

(Seven Lakes Drive [tent])

We’re onto New York now.

I stood for a while this morning, with water from a lake outlet flowing between my legs, keeping dry by placing my feet on two rocks at opposite sides of the stream.

New York is full of lakes, like none of the other states that I’ve seen on trail.

I am very very tired as I write this. It will be short.

A lot of the the lakes that I’ve hiked past in New York have been dark water lakes. I don’t know exactly what it’s from–an algae or something.

The thought occurred to me that lakes are big and beautiful things, but they do not last. They become rivers. Then rivers become something larger too. Some of the lake outlets around here flow into other lakes, which then flow into other rivers. Lakes becoming rivers becoming lakes becoming rivers.

It struck me that there was a poetic beauty somewhere in the thought. A better writer would put words to the metaphor better than I’ll hope achieve here. But maybe after some time, miles, mushrooms, and context.

I was on a little bit of mushrooms as I stood there, the dark water from one of the lakes flowing between my legs as river-outlet. Maybe I was thinking about it too deeply and working too hard to make something out of what was really nothing.

But it sat there with me for more than the passing moment. That these lakes are such big and grand and beautiful things–these massive bodies of water. But the water that makes those lakes doesn’t hold its form; it eventually all flows out into this little outlet, which itself was so small that I could bridge its entirety by standing at a wide stance, facing upstream towards the lake that this flowing water had been up until now.

Here it wasn’t a lake anymore though. It was this little, insignificant flowing stream.

But just down the way, it flowed into another large lake–just as big and just as magnificent as the lake that I was facing upstream towards.

A better writer would put it to words better…

Someday I might figure out how to do the same.

For now, the crude idea was enough: Our lives are like these dark lakes and rivers–almost unrecognizable from the form we used to be and the things that we used to hold so dear; oscillating between amazing and insignificant chapters of our lives, some big and grand while others are small-flowing and insignificant. But moments resolving into smaller things, which then allow for us to become our next thing in life.

I hope to reform into something bigger than I was after this trail is over and done. I hope to be like that lake outlet that flowed between my legs for a moment today.

—

Plinko and I have continued to hike together, although it’s well known and stated that he’d be far and ahead of here if he didn’t enjoy the company as well. We do have quite a lot in common. Funny though–we almost never hike together. We only take breaks and camp together. We talk sometimes, but most of the time it’s quiet between us. Our conversations are intermittent and sometimes spaced out.

One thing we have talked a lot about has been spirituality and philosophy. He’s been a bridge for my introduction to Taoism–something I’ve been peripherally interested in for some time now but have never explored this deeply until the AT and hiking with Plinko.

I thought about it some today, how even having a hiking partner is a sort of relationship that necessitates sacrifices, like any other relationship. I thought about that a lot today, in fact.

I’ve spent so much time alone in this chapter of my life, and that time alone has almost killed me. It’s been everything I could hold sometimes. It’s been more than I thought that I could hold other times.

That time alone has been the thing that scares me more than anything else in the world. And no doubt that’s why this chapter has been so difficult.

Only recently have I started to bring people back into my life, and the way that I’ve felt towards that company has been curious.

I’ve already said that I enjoy the hike with Plinko, and I mean that fully. I get the feeling that we both appreciate one anothers’ company tremendously. But then I feel some guilt about slowing him down. I feel responsibility to keep my milage up… to prove something? So I don’t disappoint or let him down? To meet him there? I’m not exactly sure what… But there is a burden that feels like it comes with companionship.

Within it there might even be something akin to resentment. Resentment that I can be seen for my most naked, real, and no-bullshit version of myself. Resentment that I’m seen for who I probably really am, including the parts that I’m ashamed of. Resentment that someone could be there to see my weaknesses, my flaws, my dents and scars.

Thru hikes do this thing where they reduce you down to the essence of who you really are, I think. All the bullshit falls off after a thousand or fifteen hundred miles. You can’t worry about your hair, how you’re dressed, whether you’re giving off the best impression, and all of that kind of thing. It all falls away in the heat, the pain, the discomforts, and the stresses of the trail. Then, what’s left is the version of you that exists underneath it all.

And it’s been hard hiking with Plinko and acknowledging that another human being is going to see me for what I really am. I wonder if I may not be ready for that. I wonder if I’m still trying to present something to the world that is above what I really am.

Here… I’ll say it differently and most honestly: I’m scared for someone to see me for who I really am because at my core I’m still ashamed of who I really am.

At my core I still feel weak and defenseless.

It’s hard for me to accept that part of myself. And harder still to conceive of letting someone else see it in me.

—

It’s hard not to reflect those same questions as I walk long miles in the heat and think through a relationship that’s been developing with Boots. Is interconnectedness with another human being something that I’m ready for right now? Is it something we’re ever ready for? Do these feelings of judgement and inadequacy ever go away? And how do we willingly let go of the bullshit after being let down and hurt for doing it so many times in the past?

I’m sorry if this one is all too heady… I’ve had a lot of miles to think lately.

—

I’m becoming far too tired and I need to sleep.

I’m immeasurably excited to see Boots tomorrow afternoon. Hemlock will be dropping her off at around 2 or 3pm and we’ll hike together with Plinko for a day and a half before then coming off trial for a Zero and a Nero at Hemlock’s Place in CT.

Wormwood

AT Day 76

Miles Today: 25.78

AT Mile: 1376.0

(Lake Lodging Motel; Greenwood Lake, NY)

Yama talked to his phone, but I couldn’t understand him.

Then we both waited for a moment, and his phone talked back, but this time I understood, unlike when Yama had been talking.

And since Yama and I can’t talk directly, I responded by talking at my phone, which of course he couldn’t understand until I pushed the button that translated English to Japanese, and we both listened as a computer voice read back what I’d written, but in a tongue that Yama could make sense of.

It’s an absolutely incredible future that we live in today! A world in which you can literally speak into a translation app on your phone, and it’ll convert everything to almost any language of your choosing in just a couple of seconds.

Yama is from Japan, and this is his first thru hike. He speaks about 5 words of English. I can only imagine how his experience of hiking this trail is so different than almost anyone else out here this year. He’s 48 years old, wife and two sons back home in Osaka.

We’d crossed paths a few times back in the earlier parts of the trail, but never bridged the cultural and communication divide. But he was also there at Palmerton when Plinko and I camped at the trail angel’s yard–the lady named Squeak who introduced herself by declaring that she was “born indecent.” I can only try to imagine what Yama must have thought of that lady and her place! He was there for two or three nights while he recovered from an injury that required some stitches and time off trail. Plinko had talked to him a bit that night through Google Translate, but for whatever reason I missed the opportunity and never did so myself.

But when we met back at Sola yesterday afternoon, it wasn’t an opportunity I was going to miss twice.

—

We planned all day yesterday to go back to trail in the later part of the afternoon, and everything went according to that plan until we stepped out into the direct sunlight and started our walk out of Unionville at around 5pm.

It was incredibly hot. It was a kind of hot that I haven’t experienced before this week. It’s a record breaking heat wave all across the eastern US. And as Plinko and I talked it over, we decided that it didn’t make sense to be out here.

Pastor Doug had said several times that we’d be welcome to stay a second night if we wanted, and we’d politely declined the offer. But as we got out into that heat again, we started to question whether we’d made a bad decision.

Stranger went on ahead, and I respect him for his independence. But goddam it was hot out last night. And the forecast called for temps to stay high mostly through the evening.

Skip forward–we met Stranger again this afternoon and he said that he ended up camping about 10 miles up trail with Waterboy, in the Mosquito Hellscape, and that he had to sleep in his bivouac because they were so bad, but the temps were so high that being in there was like being in a sauna. He also said that sometimes the face bug net of his bivi would touch his face and he’d immediately get a misquito bite through the mesh, so he had to wrap his face in a shirt to prevent bites.

Sounds like his night was miserable.

Plinko and I on the other hand…

I think that we both felt some weirdness about going back to Sola for the second night, but it wasn’t guilt. We just felt strange after all the miles we’ve plowed through on this trail and on our other trails. This just felt so antithetical to so much that we’ve done before this. But in the end it was the right decision for us.

We ended up sleeping significantly better. We got to hang out with Yama and have that conversation over Google Translate. And Plinko and I both got a much better night’s sleep than we would have if we’d been out on trail with Stranger.

Again though–more power to Stranger for his independence. I don’t envy him for it, but I do respect him for it. I told Plinko that I wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up connecting with the group of “5 guys” who I’ve talked about in previous entries.

—

There were only the three of us at Sola last night–Plinko, Yama, and myself. Yama rolled in right as we were leaving, so he was surprised when he saw us come back in about a half hour later.

We sat together talking through Google Translate for almost 45 minutes. It was fascinating to get to know him! I told him that he was inspiring. He told me that he remembered me from early on in the trail, because he saw me doing pushups.

—

We were ready to get back to trail this morning though.

Today was another one of the 4am alarms and 4:30 to trail days. I don’t think I’ve had nearly this many starts so early on any of my long trails. Let that just be a testament to the intensity of this heat! It’s no joke!

It was 26 miles to where we’d hitch into Unionville for resupply. Along the way we got a mile-long boardwalk, unfathomable swarms of mosquitos, and a steep-ass climb in the heat called “Stairway to Heaven.”

—

The mosquitoes were absolutely oppressive! It was insane!

Both Plinko and I carry Pricardian, but it seemed to do nothing against them. Or, it could be that by then we were sweating so profusely that it just washed the bug spray off so that we were exposed again.

For much of the morning I wore a gator around my face and neck to keep them from biting and swatted continually at my arms and legs with my camp towel to keep them off. They were too much!

They bit through clothes. They didn’t care about bug spray. And they were nonstop during the swampy sections of trail today.

The only places that I’ve seen mosquitos like that would have been in Alaska and in Louisiana swamps.

—

As bad as the bugs were, the heat was at least on the same level. I know that I’m coming to this trail from Arizona, but the heat out there compared to the humid heat here are completely different. This eastern heat is oppressive. Forgive me if I’ve called it that already. But it feels like it’s holding you down.

My clothes were drenched through and through for most of the day. I kept using that camp towel, and I’d wring it out, then wipe again, then ring, and that cycle went on for many hours. It was hard to stay hydrated.

—

Crossed into New York.

Sweated on some rocks.

Expected but didn’t find any snakes on the rocks.

Got some tail magic at the side of the road with some of the group of 5 guys (+ a hiker named Buzzkill).

Visited the top rated ice cream creamery in the United States and ate 4 scoops of ice cream with Plinko.

Talked a bit with Boots and Hemlock to coordinate their visits.

Looking like Plinko might join me off trail this weekend so we can continue hiking together after Boots heads back home.

Splitting a motel room in Greenwood Lake and resupplied here as well.

Back to trail tomorrow at 6am.

Looking to get some miles tomorrow, but also looking like the elevation profile starts to climb again this week.

Temps are looking so much better the next 3 days that it’s hard to believe that these were the same places experiencing such an intense heat wave just two days ago.

Writing until I’m so tired I a barely stay awake. As usual.

Wormwood.

AT Day 75

Miles Today: 0.25

AT Mile: 1349.1

(Sola Appalachain Christian Retreat)

The last 36 hours have been some of the most unique of the Appalachain Trail. Maybe they’ve been the most exemplorary 36 hours of the entire trail too, but I just didn’t know that this is what the AT was supposed to be until now.

I haven’t hiked at all since I wrote last. Unless you count the quarter mile journey that we’ve made back and forth to the Unionville General Store and Annabele’s Pizza a few times yesterday and today.

What we have done: play “The Appalachain Trail” board game, build a chicken coop, burn an old stump, build & fill gardening boxes, cut apart old rusted chicken wire, remove chestnuts from the yard, drink homemade sassafras root beer, and eat popcorn.

I’m still at Sola Appalachain Christian Retreat, and it’s our second day here–Plinko, Stranger, and myself.

We’ve met other hikers in town who have stumbled out of the forest and are stumbling back up trail and back into the heat, but god help them… they’ve all looked *rough*. One of them I was authentically worried about, as he looked as if he’d just been hit over the head with a shovel. He insisted that he was fine and was going back out into it. Better him than I…

As the three of us walked back from the store, we remarked how much we’ve enjoyed the last day and a half’s stay here at Sola, and how the alternative would have been two of the most miserable days that we’ve had on trail if we’d opted to hike through it. Honestly though, I still don’t see how hiking could have been possible. Yes, I see people out in it, but I really and truly believe that it’s dangerous out there. Heat index is currently reading at 111 degrees here. Just walking down to the store is intense. Doing yard work this morning, I came in completely soaked through with sweat and had to take a second shower.

I’ve felt weak in my whole body and I even feel my thinking going astray from the heat and humidity–and again, I’ve been 100% sober since arriving here. But the effects of heat and exhaustion have felt like 2-3 beers, except take the fun part out of it.

Pastor Doug made us pancakes and coffee this morning and we’ve had a great opportunity to get to know him and the kids better–all the kids are named after trees. I think it’s Aspen, Maple, and Evergreen. I didn’t get to know Pastor Doug’s wife, Priscilla as well, as she was in the garden and taking care of the kids much of our time, but the bit we did exchange was pleasant.

This morning Pastor Doug mentioned that he wanted to have William, the retreat’s intern, interview me for an audio broadcast that they send to all their followers and the people on their mailing list. I thought it might be 5-10 minutes, but when William sat down to start it, he said it might go as long as an hour.

Before this, I hadn’t mentioned *anything* about the psychedelic stuff to anyone here… well, except Stranger and Plinko, but they don’t count. I mean anyone connected with the Christian Retreat. And it wasn’t my intention to say anything about it during the interview, but as we talked and questions about my trial name came up, and questions about what inspired me to hike the trail, and what I write about in my trail journals, it became progressively more difficult to dodge the metaphorical elephant in the room… and finally I told the story.

I told him about having been an atheist through much of grand school, and how my dad suggested that I try psychedelic mushrooms if I thought that I had all the answers figured out. That psychedelics led me to a deep sense of spirituality, and that it’s a lot of the reason that I later hiked the CDT and eventually came to the AT. It’s why my business is named Acacia Fruit Wellness. It’s the reason that I made it out of my 20s and into my 30s alive. It’s a really big part of who I am, and although a lot of people (like my readers) know that well, there are a lot of people who do not know that part about me. And that’s hard… it being such an important part of who I am and has played such a role in my answering some big questions. Yet I find it hard to know how to talk about without offending. Obviously I talk about it openly here in my journal, but elsewhere in the world I try to play my cards a little closer. Some of you are no doubt reading that last sentence and saying “yeah fucking right,” but in earnest, I keep that part closed to a lot of the people in my life.

Anyways, the interview went well I think. I’ll post a link in my journals if they end up posting it on their website. I’m not 100% sure they will, because William, the intern, acted pretty surprised when I started into the mushroom story, but I also believe fully that the way I explained things was appropriate. The trouble is that many people close off to that conversation so quickly when they hear about “drugs.”

—

The three of us are going back to trail in an hour. It 96 degrees out right now with a 111 heat index, but temps should be dropping soon. They won’t drop far, but at least we’re not climbing in temps anymore. We’d really like to get 10 miles this evening, which will require some night miles, but we all three want to be walking again.

We’d also like to get to trail early tomorrow. It’ll likely be a 4am start. So it’ll probably be directly from trail to sleep tonight. No journaling or dinner at camp. We need to get some sleep.

If we get 10 miles tonight, it’ll only be 15 miles to get into Greenwood Lakes, which is where I sent my next resupply package. Just one day of food to carry from here then since I’ll be resupplying again tomorrow.

Stranger is planning on hiking past Greeenwood Lakes, as he has more than enough food and doesn’t need to resupply there, but Plinko and I are thinking of sticking together. We may actually split a room there tomorrow, not because we need the rest but because I sent my resupply box there and they might not think it too cool if I go there to pick up my box and then don’t spend any money with them. We’ll see.

But on that note, Plinko and I were talking last night and I proposed that he join me on the Pacific Northwest Trail next summer. I’ve offered it to a couple of people–Hemlock and my buddy Geoff namely–but Plinko said yes. At first we were just kind of kidding about it, but then he said he was 100% serious, and I agreed that I’m down for it as well. So with that in mind, I’m hopeful that at least Plinko and I might stick together for awhile on this trail. As I’ve said before, he’s a much faster hiker than I am and he carries much lighter gear, but I’ve heard from him as well that he’s enjoyed building a chicken coop and helping out around here. I sense that we quite connect, beyond just having both hiked the PCT and CDT. Similar ages. Some similar life experiences. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know him better.

We were chatting a bit about Taoism two days back. He’s got a lot of experience in Buddhism and brought up several of the philosophers who I’ve followed over the years–Ram Dass to name just one.

I’m hopeful that Stranger may stick with us for some time too. Hard to know about anything though. He did however ship his next pair of shoes to my buddy Hemlock’s place, so we’re at least going to be seeing one another up until Saturday this week.

—

I’ll be dipping off trail on Saturday night until Monday morning to spend time with Boots, Hemlock, and Hemlock’s wife Rachael at their home in Connecticut. I’ve offered that if Plinko and Stranger are interested in joining that they’d probably be welcome as well, but we’re going to see how things go this upcoming week.

Remember that thing about impermanence…

Not only does nothing last. But nothing *needs* to last. Impermanence doesn’t have to be the evil thing that I used to think it was. There is some good in change. There is something profoundly necessary in it.

William Blake said: “Nothing lasts, but nothing is lost.”

Remember that. Nothing is lost.

Remember that.

Remember it, Wormwood.

Remember it, Brandon.

Remember it, reader.

Nothing lasts.

But nothing is lost.

Wormwood.