AT Day 53

Miles Today: 7.03

AT Mile: 944.7

(An Unnamed Hostel)

Part 1:

I’m not sure how I feel about this place. I’m at a hostel, and the owner is quite nice… but it’s weird. Maybe there’s a reason that I’m the only hiker here. That’s *never* the case with a hiker hostel this time of year. But even the owner made comment that it’s been quiet this week–that she didn’t have anyone staying here last night.

Anyways, my entanglement in this place started about 3 hours ago, when I was trying to get a hitch into town from the trail. It was only a 7 mile drive, and I tried hitching for a few minutes before texting the hostel to see if they offer rides.

“Was that you standing at the intersection of 211?” I received in response to my text.

I had to check my maps before texting back that indeed that’s where I was.

“It’s going to be an hour and a half before I can come get you. I just passed you and I’m brining hikers to trail.”

I wrote back that I’d probably find a hitch before then, but thanking her for her help.

Then she replied, “I’m turning around to get you. You’re coming on a ride to such-and-such-a-town, then I’ll bring you to the hostel.”

That already rubbed me the wrong way, but I went along with it, figuring that I have extra time to burn before I need to get to Harper’s Ferry on Friday, and hoping with all my heart that whoever was on the other end of these texts wasn’t a creepy weirdo who I was about to spend 2 hours with.

When she arrived, she was not a creepy weirdo. Rather, she’s a very nice, older lady who runs this hiker hostel and has been doing so for the last 10 years. And I was glad to have a ride into town… but town was 8 miles away, and she was about to take me on a 2 hour tour of northern Virginia while she dropped off two other hikers way up trail.

That was kind of annoying, but again, she was nice and drove carefully (unlike some other rides I’ve been given on this hike!). The trouble was, much of the conversation felt scripted. The hostel owner had a slant to her that I see a lot out here. It says, “Stick with me kid, because I know these parts, and I can get you through.” It assumes that everyone passing through is helpless, lost, and sure to find failure if they don’t have the good fortune of finding said protagonist.

Forgive me if I’m going overboard, but it’s how I felt in the 2 hours we spent, driving to my destination that I could have walked to in as much time.

She also felt a little bit like a walking, talking self-help-book. She had lots of quotes and narrations that she gave, and the one or two times that I tried interjecting questions, she just paused somewhat awkwardly, as if I’d just interjected in the middle of a prepared speech.

Later I found that she had studied broadcast and theatre, and that lined up well. And for all the good things that she did have to share, and the things that I learned about the area in our 2 hours, I’ve learned to lose interest in the conversation when I learn that it’s scripted or rehearsed. I want to know what people really have going on. I want to know the HERE AND NOW version of their world. I used to work as a tour guide in Sedona, AZ for 7 years or so, and I saw that a lot amongst my coworkers. We would become scripted to every question you could possibly ask. Nothing was natural anymore–not even when we talked to one another. It wasn’t everyone or all the time, but I saw it in some people often. I tried to watch for it in myself, and caught myself falling into those kinds of patterns often. I still do. I try to stay away from it.

—

Anyways–after two hours we got to her “hostel,” which is really just a big house with a big lawn, and whole bunch of dogs and a cat. I don’t know if it’s the gaggle of dogs or the cat that is making all the dander inside, but it’s bad enough that it makes my head hurt and my eyes itch. I’ve stepped outside to write, but there’s a lady on a lawnmower just in front of me, so that’s kind of chaos too.

More complaining…. some people just can’t be pleased… maybe I’m one of them.

For all the complaining, I want to say again, the hostel owner is very sweet, quite knowledgeable about the area, and has been very nice to me. But this dog dander and that 2 hour ride threw me off.

Whatever. At least I got shower and laundry.

—

A short note on the psychedelic thing.

Today is my third day without them. Goddam, I feel the need to emphasize that this is not at all related to addiction or anything of the like. Using the psychedelic tools that I’ve been using on trails has not been a “pleasurable” or “addictive” experience. On the contrary, it was an extraordinary challenge to undertake the experiment in consciousness that I went through in those first 50 days of the trail.

I did want to take some time off to recalibrate, reassess, and recenter after 50 consecutive days in that realm.

My observation on this third day–my brain seems to be grateful for the reset. I do feel like my feet are bit more firmly planted on the ground than I had up to now. My thinking has been clearer, my memory seems to be just a little better, and my overall vibration appears to be more level–less extreme up and downs.

To be absolutely clear however–I am still an absolute and total mad-man. That of course is in my nature and at my foundation. But within the madness, I do find myself more settled this week.

Like I wrote in previous journals, I’ll meet Boots and Molly in Harpers Ferry, and it’s important to me that my biochemistry be leveled out for that. I don’t take lightly the fact that she’s driving 16 hours round trip to spend the weekend together, and it’s important to me to… well… as I said it before, have my feet planted more firmly upon the ground.

Part of the reason that I needed to come to this hostel to recharge electronics is because I’ve been so in contact with Boots as I’ve walked the ridgeline of Shenandoah National Park–both by text and phone call. Weird time we live in where we have this high level of connectivity, even on the trail. We’re both seeing this weekend as an opportunity to play, but also to get to know one another more deeply, and see if the fantasy of following one another after the trail still makes sense to either of use.

I think I’ve mentioned that she’s proposed coming to Maine. There’s more to that as well, but I’ll leave it there for now.

I like her. At least here and for now. She expresses the same. The weekend will let us see what depth is in that attraction.

After the weekends with Boots I’ll so back to using psychedelic tools on the hike. I won’t be doing daily, as I did for the first 50 days of the trail, as I’ve already been there. I’ll talk more about that in the coming week.

—

Only hiked 7 miles to get to the gap where unnamed hostel owner picked me up, and I was pretty sure that I’d be going back to trail today, but at this rate, I may stay here. I need to get my electronics charged and my food restocked before going back to trail, so it’ll be at least 2 more hours, so I wouldn’t get to trail until at least 5pm. Honestly however, that sounds good to me. I don’t want to be lingering around this place tomorrow. Goddamn… I feel like I need to say it again that this place isn’t bad, but my head hurts from the dander, and I just think I want to be on trail. It’s weird being at a hostel when I’m literally the only hiker here.

At least the dogs are nice. But I think they might need a bath. So did I when I arrived though, so no shade on them.

After this I have one more wayside in Shenandoah National Park, which means one more opportunity for a 1,400 calorie milkshake and $4 butterfinger bar.

I need to decide if I’m going to push all the way to Harper’s from here (82 miles) or if I’m going to try to hit the trail town that’s 28 miles up trail from here. Probably the latter, as I just don’t want to carry extra food weight if I don’t have to, and like I keep saying, I don’t need to do big miles right now. After Boots leaves however, I wonder if I’ll stick with these 20-25 mile days or if I’ll start punching miles again. We’ll see.

That’s it for now.

I need to get some food.

Hate to say it, but y’boi might be doing a McDonalds dash this time around. I remember it made me feel shit last time I did it on trail, but we all have our vices, and I feel like I’ve almost earned it… wait… I only hiked 7 miles today.

Whatever.

—

Part 2:

My kidnapping by hostel owner happened at 11 this morning. It’s now 6:15 and I’m still at the hostel–partly due to circumstance, and partly by my own will.

I got all cleaned, charged all my electronic, got refed, got resupplied.

The hostel owner asked me a couple of hours ago if we could “wait for so-and-so to get out of the shower before we go to Walmart for resupply.” I said of course, then 90 minutes later, she stepped out and asked if I knew how to drive a Prius. Strange question, but not so strange within the context of everything else that today’s been.

There was some back and forth before I finally said, “I’m going to be 7 minutes in McDonalds and 8 minutes in Walmart.”

“Then let’s go.”

She drove me there and back, quoted me a lower price than it was worth for all the help she’s given me today (possibly factoring in the kidnapping and my time expense, but I doubt it; I think that she just undercharges in some situations?), and waited for me while I got dinner and resupply. She actually needed some things from Walmart as well, so I didn’t feel so bad about having her make the trip.

On the way back she mentioned that she didn’t know how she was going to get me back up to the trail, since she just remembered that she has a dinner reservation at 6pm and it was 5:30, so that’s why I’m still here, typing at the same table where I started writing earlier. The lawn mower is no longer running. The dogs are still barking. The dander is still thick.

Two other hikers arrived a few hours ago. A couple, from what I can tell. That’s usually the case when you see a guy and a girl hiking together. Either that, or he’s trying to make them into a couple–we can pretend that’s not what’s happening, but I’m over the pretense of acting otherwise.

They both seemed kind of tired when they rolled in. They were like a lot of hikers I meet out here. They remind me of myself on the PCT and some of the CDT. I was always just so warn down. I don’t feel that way on the AT though. Especially not now that I’ve lowered my miles and started to prioritize on Smiles instead 🙂

But I mention them just because they’re the only “social” opportunity here at the hostel now that the owner has gone, and I don’t know how to talk to the barking dogs. They’re up in their bedroom resting, from what I can tell. So it’s just me here again. Again alone in this trail. Again contemplative.

The hostel owner and I talked more on the drive back to Walmart. I feel like I was too harsh on her earlier. She is well intentioned, and I could see that from the beginning. But she’s also like so many people are–she’s living in the groove that she’s spent the last 60+ years carving for herself. She follows those same patterns. She has safety and security in the things that are familiar. And I can’t blame her for wanting to tell the wandering souls of the trail about “how it is” and “how to really live.” For how rote some of her talk was, she has some good stuff in there. I even write some things down in my notes after she dropped me back at the hostel and before I packed my food.

But my food’s packed now, my electronics are charged, and my belly is full. I want to try to hitch back to trail here in a bit.

If it doesn’t go well however, I’m just going to let it go and camp here for the night, then try to get back to trail at sunrise tomorrow. Even if I’m at trail by 9 tomorrow, and even if I do stop at the last wayside (which of course I’m going to do), I could still break 30 miles before sundown. Not that I need to… just sayin.

With my mind in the clouds…

—

Part 3:

It was frustrating. One of the worst feelings on a thru hike. The feeling of being reliant on other people, and having important variables outside of your control. Thru hiking produces this illusion that you’re independent and that you don’t need anyone else’s help. It’s an illusion, of course, but we go with it, knowingly or otherwise. Then, when we get to town, and need a ride in, a shower, directions to the local grocer, a ride to McDonalds, a ride back to trail, a place to charge electronics… all the sudden we’re helpless.

I enjoyed the down time today. Most of it I spent writing. I tried laying in the sun and just relaxing in the grass, but thoughts of ticks kept me from being able to let go. I must have done 500 pushups today. I’m really not exaggerating. 50x at a time. All during my time at the hostel, mostly while I was waiting for a ride either to resupply, or back to trail.

The hostel owner offered a ride back to trail when she got back from dinner, but admitted that wasn’t going to be until 7:30 or 8pm. She suggested hitching, but I hate doing it. Never know if it’s a waste of time or if it’s going to work out. Then, I hate having to awkwardly act interested in the conversation with the driver, because at least half the time it’s not interesting, but I feel obliged to make him feel heard in exchange for riding me back to trial.

I paced back and forth between the driveway and the road, thumbing while a few cars drove by, then settling on going back up to the porch and calling it a day. On my third time down at the road, an old pickup truck pulled over.

It was a younger kid–maybe late 20s or early 30s. Hard to tell, based on how he looked and what he later shared with me. He was driving a truck so old that it barely made it up the slight incline to the pass where I needed to get to trail. All along the way he had a cigarette hanging out the window, and he puffed on it softly while it became shorter, along with the distance we had left in our ride.

At first I wasn’t sure he was even going to talk. He barely looked at me when I got in. But then he asked if I was hiking the Appalachian Trail, and where I started. You’d be amazed how many people out here have no idea some of the basic details of the trail that’s literally within 10 miles of where they live. You tell them that you started in Georgia, and half of them act as if they didn’t know it went farther than the next county over.

I told him a bit about my hike and he said that he used to work up in Shenandoah National Park, and he would give hikers rides when he’d see them back then. He told me he didn’t mind giving me a ride up, even though that’s not where he was headed.

It surprised me when I learned that the pass was out of his way, especially in light of how the truck struggled to get there.

I don’t even know how, but the conversation progressed and he told me that he used to be addicted to drugs, but that he’d been sober for awhile now, and that his life was going a lot better since then. He said he went to treatment and I asked what his DOC was. He told me it was meth, and I shared that I’d never tried it but that I’d read that it was bad bad bad to try and get off of. I told him about some of my demons in exchange. Not because I precieved an expectation, but because I wanted to share common ground.

He told me that he was over 230 days clean now, and I said “Fuck Yeah!”

He dropped me off at the pass and I started hiking back up the AT.

—

Only made it a mile and a half before I reached a side trail to shelter.

I never stay at shelters, but like I’ve said before–the national park is very sparse of camp sites. I read on my maps that there were many of them here though, so decided to call the day done at 8pm, and I wandered in here.

There were already hikers here. One whom I’d met before, and several whom I had not. The one I met before was the one who had a very similar to my own at Trail Days. It was good to see him again. The other AT hiker at the shelter was the first I’ve met who is finishing his Triple Crown this year with the AT–the same situation as my own. I’d heard that there were some others finishing this year along with me, but I’d yet to meet any of them.

Like most of the hikers I meet out here who have long trail experience before the AT, all of his trails have been since I finished my last long hike. In most people’s eyes, I’m sort of an “old school” thru hiker. People sometimes double take when I tell them that I hiked the PCT in 2015. “Wow–a long time ago,” some of them have remarked.

For fun I timed how long it took me to set my tent tonight, now that I have practice with it. Just under 5 minutes. Then, setting my pad and bag and all that jazz was another 6 minutes. So 11 minutes from dropping pack to being set to sleep. That used to be 45, and I’ve struggled to keep it under 20 for a lot of my hiking.

Oh what irony that I’d get this down so smooth right alongside my deciding that I don’t need to or want to make as many miles anymore. Of course it would be.

I’m toying with the idea of punching miles tomorrow. No good reason, other than I want to, and maybe because I miss the feeling of a 30+. I’ll see how it feels. I’m carrying a lot of food out of that last town, and hoping it’ll sustain to Harper’s Ferry. So it’ll be a big day plus weight. But I’m a big boy now.

Again though. One day at a time. And when that doesn’t work, one step at a time.

Breathe. 

Wormwood.

AT Day 52

Miles Today: 27.38

AT Mile: 937.7

(Big Meadow Wayside/trailside in tent)

There is some absolutely psychic-level-shit going on in my world right now. I don’t know how else to explain it. They told me before I came out here that there is something magical in Appalachia than what exists in the West. And I understood that I wouldn’t be able to understand what that meant or if the claim held validity until getting out here and walking some miles. Didn’t know how many miles that would end up taking. But from where I sit now, I feel like it took somewhere around 500 or 600 miles, and that’s where things started to shift. I hope they keep moving like this for the rest of the trail. I don’t want this to be simple, short, painless, or easy. I came to this trail looking for something big. “Needing” is a better word for it. I had tried what felt like the other options.

The connection continues to build with Boots. In spite of the distance, we live in this weird age where we all have cell phones and coverage over more than half the trail that I’m walking. Further reinforcement that the AT is not nearly as remote as all the other long trails that I’ve walked before this one. With cell connection, we’ve been able to continue our conversation and connection. It’s been refreshing, romantic, and more intense daily. Things feel like they’re building fast, but through the confines of our distance and the limit on how much time we’ll be able to spend with one another in Harpers next weekend, it feels safe to be in the heat of it as we seem to be.

She’s taken up a lot of my mental space on trail the last ten days or so. More than I let on, and I know that I’m writing about here every day still… At the same time however, I don’t feel her taking me away from the trail. She’s said explicitly that she wouldn’t tolerate my leaving the hike for her; that she wants for me to finish this as much as I do. That feels healthful to me. But we both also wish we could have more time together.

Last night and this morning we talked about how things could play out after the trail… she lives in mother fucking Tennissee… God absolutely has a sense of humor. I find myself looking into Asheville, NC, we talk about her moving out west in a few years (two kids and that makes things complicated).

But I bring it up to contextualize that a lot of my spiritual/emotional energy has been going towards that. Then this morning I received messages from two ex-romantic connections.

The first I’d only seen one time, just before leaving for the AT. We’d flirted with the idea of picking up after the AT if that felt right, but only got to know one another at such a simple level that it was hard to see much coming from it. I’d reached out to her, closing off the romantic line between us after Trail Days. This was her first time reaching back out, calmly and with closure in her tone. She was grateful, but also resolute in not continuing, and it felt like we were in the same place with things. That felt good for me.

Then, this afternoon as I talked with another hiker about his pups, I got a test from the girl who I was dating for around 10 months, last year. Things never worked out between us because she was just getting out of a long relationship, and I was always trying to lock things with her down into another one. A pattern that I’d developed over time. I didn’t expect that we’d see or speak to one another after I left for the AT; I thought that flame had burned out and was done. I didn’t see how we’d be able to maintain a friendship on the other side.

But to my surprise, she shared that she’d been reading my journals from the beginning of the trail. That she also saw a shift in my tone in these last few hundred miles, and that she was happy to see my relationship with Boots as it unfolds. One of the last things she’d told me in our last time together was that she hoped I’d find my connection out here on trail.

Again, it felt soft, right, and good.

I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing with these journals at the beginning of this hike. It felt like shooting out into the dark, like trying to do something, but not knowing what it was that I was trying to do.

Now they mean a lot to me, and hearing from the others who are reading, moves me even more. It validates that this stupid idea of giving up my entire life, nearly at the age of 40, to walk a dirt trail for half the year, might actually be worth what I’ve put into it.

—

I’ve already mentioned several times in previous journals that I’ll be taking a break from hiking next weekend while Boots visits and that as such, I’m incentivized to slow my miles down to around 20 per day.

That gave me reason to roll into Big Meadow Wayside with a casual stroll this afternoon, just as I had at the camp store, a couple of hours before. At the camp store I ate more ice cream bars than I needed and also chose to spend $12 on a massive bag of kettle corn. Sat there eating the ice cream without any hurry, and wandered down trail for at least an hour eating all that pop corn today over the course of two sessions. A few day hikers commented on it, saying that it seemed like I had the right idea. I said something about having been to a lot of rodeos before this one…

When I got to Big Meadow Wayside I of course had to have another blackberry milkshake, but I also timed it right for a lunch stop. The only real protein that they had on the menu (other than a smash burger, which really isn’t that much protein) was on the children’s menu–it was chicken tenders.

I walked over to the beer cooler, grabbed an NA beer, brought it to the counter, and started to order, before the cashier interrupted me.

“You can’t buy that here.” She said. “Have to buy alcohol at the other counter.” She pointed to the other register, by the gift shop.

“But this isn’t alcohol.”

“Doesn’t matter. You have to buy it over there.”

“Okay then. I’ll pay for this afterwords. In the meantime, can I place an order for children’s chicken tenders and a blackberry milkshake?”

She hesitated before asking if I wanted either milk or apple juice with the chicken tenders. I looked over at the NA beer. “I don’t suppose that I can choose ‘beer’ as my beverage with that children’s meal?”

“No, sir. You’re going to have to pay for the beer at that other counter.”

“Let’s do apple juice.”

Before changing the topic however, can we all just take a moment to acknowledge that the highest protein option on the menu at these waysides is “kids” chicken tenders. Do adults just not need protein, since we’re not “growing bodies”? Or am I just over thinking all of this.

I don’t know… working in health and fitness these last couple of years has really done a number on my perceptions of the food and beverage industry in our country. And no, this is not a “shame on fat people” thing, or anything of the like. I’m far more in the camp of being disappointed by the systems we have in place that keep people uneducated about their food choices, subsidies sugar and refined foods, and makes whole foods (not the proper noun) hard to find and/or cost prohibitive for the general American consumer… don’t get me started on food deserts… this blog could take a turn if I kept down this path.

—

It took some time for them to get the order out, as it’s a weekend and the park is busier than it might otherwise be. But I didn’t mind the wait. It gave me time to get a quick charge on some of my electronics and to pull out my keyboard and start writing my journal for the day. I’m so much more comfortable writing in my tent at the end of the day than I was at the start of the trail (took some getting used to), but it’s still immensely more comfortable typing while seated at a table or desk like I had there at the wayside.

Those milkshakes though… they have got to be 4-digit calories! They’re just straight up vanilla ice cream, whole-fat milk, and what looks like blackberry puree concentrate. Even with hiking 27 miles today, I feel like these things are going to make me pudgy before Boots gets up here the weekend. I exaggerate a little bit… but still, the thought of most of the consumers of these things being the tourists who are driving here… we are killing ourselves as Americans. I digress…

After I got back to trail from the wayside, there was a big group of high school students and a couple of adults. It looked like they were headed out for a couple of days. Although from what I know about single-digit-day-hikers, it’s that the bigger their pack and gear load, the shorter they’re planning to be out here. As I approached, one of the adults stopped me: “Okay, I’ve got to ask. What’s the deal with the skull?” He was obviously referring to the coyote skull on my pack.

“It’s a coyote,” I said. “I got it from a witch.” As if that explained everything there was to say about the matter.

“Oh,” he replied, seemingly satisfied more as a social convention than in satisfaction with my answer, which must have presented at least as many questions as it answered. I saw one of the girls in the group look at me with a face that read equal parts concern and confusion. Exactly how I think the world anyone in this would is right to look at me at this phase in my life.

At least I know that I’m having fun in it…

—

Had trouble finding camp this evening. I think I heard from someone who had hiked the AT awhile back that there was not much camping in Shanendoah. I ended up hiking later into the night than I have been recently as a result, but that afforded me what may have been the best sunset that I’ve had so far on trail. A mile later there was a SOBO hiker who said that there’s a stealth camp site up there, but I never saw anything.

—

Camped in this little clearing in the bushes on top of a small hill. It’s a tremendously poor campsite, but once again, I’m saved by my tiny tent. Several spots that I’ve camped this last week or so would have been impossible with my old Fly Creek. So I’m stoked to have made the switch. I’m also getting more efficient at setting it up and breaking it down, which is good, since I still have a lot of miles and a lot of camps ahead.

Tomorrow I’ll have 6 miles to a road crossing that will lead me into a town for resupply. I honestly don’t even know the name of the town right now. I think it starts with an L… There’s no plan for me to stay there, but I’d like to clean up and get a few food items before finishing out the park. There will also be a wayside tomorrow evening if I remember correctly.

Loving this whole no-30-mile-day thing that I’ve been up to lately. Hope it can continue. But also enjoyed getting a bit above 20 today for the first time in about a week.

Life on the trail is good. Falling into a strange relationship with a witchy girl that I met beside a campfire has been fun. All these waysides and food choices is glorious. Hearing from old contacts has felt moving.

Gratitude.

Wormwood.

AT Day 51

Miles Today: 21.77

AT Mile: 912.5* (see post script)

(Shenandoah National Park, mid point)

Somebody told me about the milk shakes more than 200 miles ago, but I wasn’t listening carefully enough. I thought they said that I need to make sure to check out the “Black Bear Milk Shakes,” which I presumed to be the name of a restaurant or something. Now that I’m in Shenandoah National Park however, it’s hard to go all that far without hearing talk about the “black BERRY milk shakes” that are available at the wayside stops along Skyline Drive, the highway that runs through the park.

I wanted to get one last night, but couldn’t complain about my reason for being stopped just 1.1 mile short of getting to the wayside–which was an old friend’s mom picking me up, bringing me to her place, feeding me, and giving me a soft bed to sleep on for the night. Since I didnt get one yesterday however, I had to get one today.

My overall review: They’re pretty good, I guess. Service was on par with what you’d expect from a national park concessioner–basically abysmal. But the shake itself was good. I probably hadn’t “earned” the calories after only hiking 1.1 miles to get to the wayside this morning and having such a wonderful breakfast at the Borger’s home today, but that didnt stop me. It was my first chance to try them out, and they’ve been raved about for more than 200 miles.

The wayside also brought back some of the feelings I was having before Trail Days though. When I arrived there had to have been nearly a dozen backpacks outside the wayside from all the hikers inside, also enjoying milkshakes, burgers, and typical dinner food that the stop also offers. I knew a couple of them, having passed them on trail in the preceding week. But I didn’t *know* any of them. At least not well enough to barge into their conversation or just join in at their table.

It was reminiscent of grade school lunch–not having anywhere to sit because all the cool kids already took up the seat with the other cool kids.

Maybe the metaphor breaks down there. Because I don’t feel superior (or for that matter inferior) to any of the hikers out here. But I do feel very different and disconnected from most of them. I know several of the hikers I meet on trail well enough to share exchanges when we pass one another. But that tends to be the depth of it. There was one guy I saw maybe three or four times today, as we hiked similar pace and were in a similar area. We hiked together for at most .25 miles, trying to strike up small talk.

Didn’t work.

We ended up parting ways at the shelter.

But while we were both at the shelter–me making dinner, while he filtered water and set his sleep gear out–he asked me about the CDT. He’d actually asked me about it before though. Before he’d asked “when will you hike the CDT?” And I told him “2019.”

Then, at the shelter, he remarked that I must be used to hiking by myself and alone, because I’ve hiked the CDT.

His point was a fair one. There are significantly fewer people on the CDT than on the AT. But the people are also very different. I actually did meet people whom I hiked with for hundreds of miles on the CDT. Because we were the only ones out there; there were so few of us. It only made sense for us to group together when we met another hiker like ourselves. But also, there were very long stretches of the CDT that I hiked alone.

It’s one of the things that I was looking forward to find on the AT that I have not found in my hike–connection with other hikers on trail. In most of the ways that matter to me, I feel very alone and not like one of the others who I meet out here. I feel sort of like a fraud because of it. But I also acknowledge that’s a weird thing to feel, given the situation. But feelings are funny things. They don’t always line up with logic. We feel what we feel, and not necessarily what we think we aught to feel.

—

Today is my 51st day on the trail, and as insane as this sentence is for me to write, it’s also my first day without psychedelics since starting the trail.

I set out on this experiment in conscious on day 1, with the wild idea that I wanted to try walking the entire trail under the influence of mushrooms, on a daily basis. I’d never done anything of the like before, but I’d given it a lot of thought and preparation. It seemed like a terrible idea, but also one worth trying.

The first two weeks were interesting, to say the least, as I adjusted to life on the AT as well as being under the daily influence of a psychedelic. On day 10 I gave thought to taking a day off every 10th day, but I obviously decided otherwise.

Over the 50 days I added (L)ove to the equation 5 times as well.

By the end of 40 days I was giving more thought to taking some time off from it. Then by 45, that thought was stronger. I spent the rest of the week set on making day 50 my last consecutive day of the trail as I’d been doing it. I wanted to take a tolerance break, and today marks the beginning of that break.

I’ve learned so much and gained so much from those first 50 days that I’ll surely be working though it for much of the rest of my life. My hope, as altruistic as it is, is to write more about the experiences of those first 50 days as well as the trail days to follow after I finish the AT. I want to take a month and stay out here in the east, specifically working on writing and trail running. Now that there’s a cute face down south… well… that gives me another reason to stay out east, but it may also give me somewhere to set up shop around while I work on trying to get some of what’s happened this summer onto the page.

My intention is to remain without psychedelic influence for the next 7 days. Boots will be joining me in Harpers Ferry next Friday, and I have a strong feeling that Molly will probably join us on Friday. As such, I want my serotonin receptors to be relitively fresh by next week, and I want the time to recover from the last 50 days.

God… it’s been a lot.

I’m incredibly grateful for it.

—

So one last thing that’s been on my mind. And this one’s kind of funny to me. But I’ve had three people now who have asked about how they can send me something on trail–like a resupply box of food and what not.

I didn’t give the first request much though, but after a couple more people asked, it got me thinking. And I don’t see why I should resist the offers.

So here’s what’s up: next week I’m going to have some time off trail to map out a rough timeline for the rest of my hike of the AT. What I’m going to do is list where and when (approximately) I’ll be along trail, along with a list of the foods/items that I resupply with when I have to get restocked. If you, for some strange reason, want to send me a resupply box, then I’m not going to fight you on it! I’mma just happily receive and refuel 🙂

So I’ll have more info on that next week. I’ll probably post a link on facebook and instagram.

And if you’re reading that, and thinking to yourself, “Home boy can get his own f*cking resupply. He doesn’t need to be begging it off of me.” Well that’s totally valid too, and I’ve got no expectation for anything except if you want to send it 🙂

Alright. We reach that point where I’m almost too tired to write.

Will write again tomorrow, after another wayside blackberry milkshake.

Wormwood.

P.S. changing my reading in the heading from “total miles” to “AT Mile” to reduce confusion. I hike farther than the official milage by doing detours and water and what not. Keeping track on that in the CDT made more sense, as that trail didn’t have official mile markers. But with this one, everyone is all about the “official milage.” So to reduce confusion, I’m changing to AT miles at the start of the post to replace the total miles walked. Hope that makes sense…