• “Fifty Shades in Fifty Days”

    AT Day 50

    Miles: 21.66

    Total Miles: 923.44

    (My ex-girlfriend’s parents’ house)

    Last night was one of those nights where I *knew* it was going to rain, but it never came to happen. The fog was so thick last night after the sun went down that it felt like at any moment everything was going to release and it was going to start raining. And in the forecast there were predictions of rain too.

    So I just assumed when I was setting my tent that I’d be riding out a storm overnight.

    It sprinkled the littlest bit while I was writing my journal last night, but that ended up being it. I woke this morning from the birds, put in ear plugs, and only two hours later did I wake up and realize that we’d gone through the whole night without any rain.

    I’m also still skeptical about the single wall tent that I’m now carrying, as it relates to condensation. Since this is new to me, I’m still learning how to ventilate it and keep it from getting too much moisture condensed in the morning. There was sort of a spook with that on my first day after Trail Days where I was camped on the lawn at Angel’s Rest Hostel, and I woke up with everything absolutely soaked. Since then however I haven’t had anything like that. I think that was just a spectacularly wet lawn that evening.

    One of my best friends is hiking the PCT right now, and he messaged me overnight about the heat and the dry stretches. It reminded me just how different the PCT and CDT are from the AT.

    Today I spent some time with that though, and came away with this idea:

    The PCT is surprised that you’d be out there. It’s dry, hot, cold, snowy, and just all of the things.

    The CDT is delighted to find you out there, because the CDT is maschosistic and likes to watch you hurt. Its existence is an invitation to the stubborn and ill-informed.

    The At on the other hand–the AT is surprised that you haven’t been out here all along. There’s so much life all around the AT–literally growing out of the rocks and from every branch, that it just makes sense that you (being life too) would be out in this with all the other living things that call this forest home. The AT is so full of life that it just expects that you should have already been here.

    I’ve also told people that at first I was afraid that this forest was trying to smother me. With time and a lot of psychedelics however, I’ve come to realize that it’s not a smother; it’s a loving embrace.

    It’s also still brutal and mean and rugged and difficult on this trail too. But there’s something different about the AT.

    I’m going to stick to calling it Magick.

    I met a guy today who was weed-whacking the trail. He was volunteering for the Patomic Appalachian Club and his hard hat clearly stated his name was Mark. “Mark Trail” he later told me, but it wasn’t until after we’d parted that I realized that he was probably named after Mark Twain.

    Anyways, we ended up talking for around 10 minutes.

    This was my 50th and final consecutive day macrodosing mushrooms on the AT, and I had a gram and a half in my system as we talked. These kind of social situations used to scare the hell out of me under the influence of a psychedelic. But one of the things that I was hoping to achieve from this experiment in conciousness on the AT, is growing more comfortable and familiar within the experience. It’s worked.

    As we talked he mentioned that a lot of thru hikers he meets are just go go go and that they don’t even have the time to stop and have a conversation or even accept Trail Magic.

    Mark Trail told me that he’s hiked all 3 of the major trails and much of the Arizona Trail. In fact, we’re going to try to link up in the fall when he’s back in AZ for his second-to-last section of the AZT just outside of Flagstaff.

    He was a really cool dude, and I enjoyed talking to him. He made a comment about my disposition being notably calm and laid back, and I refrained to tell him that there was some psycho-pharmacological assistance at play.

    Fifteen years ago I dated a girl named Dana. There’s a whole book that could and probably should be written about Dana. She’s an amazing human being and a wild ball of energy. We were in several of the same classes during undergrad, and ended up together on and off again for around 6 or 9 months.

    Haven’t seen her in literally 10 years. And probably wouldn’t be talking about her in my AT trail journals, were it not for the fact that she reached out to me about a month ago to share that her parents now live quite close to the Virginia AT, and that they wanted to host me for a night when I got closer to their neck of the woods. Well, today is “their neck of the woods.”

    I hadn’t seen Sheila and Ed for just as long as it had been since I’d seen Dana–15 years or more. But her mom was insistent that she wanted to pick me up on trail, bring me in for the night, get me showered and fed, and all that fun.

    So although I didn’t know that it was going to be today, Sheila messaged me this morning, and we were able to arrange it pretty easy.

    Now that I’m in Shanendoah National park, there’s a road that runs pretty much right along the AT for the next 150 miles or so. As such, it’s pretty easy to connect with a vehicle.

    She picked me up at mile 21 in my day, fed me seafood chowder and brownies, and insists on sending me back to trail with a bacon and egg sandwich after breakfast.

    Am I deserving of being treated like such royalty? Absolutely not. But I’m also not about to turn down that kind of Appalachain Trail Magick.

    I’ll start the day tomorrow around 10, or whenever they get me back up there. I’m in no hurry, as I need to do 20 mile days for the next 7 days to meet Boots in Harper’s Ferry in time next Friday. Which is to say that there’s no rush.

    People all rave about the BlackBerry Milk Shakes at the waysides in the national park. I’m about a mile away from my first. So after breakfast and that bacon sandwich, I’m going to endulge in one of those.

    Shoot… at this rate I might end up packing on a few pounds before I get to see Boots next. Home girl is going to think her memory is bad if she catches me all pudgy, just three weeks after seeing me at Trail Days. Good thing I hit the YMCA. (Kidding for the record. I try to eat “well” on this trail compared to my previous ones, but I’m not worried about some of my indulgences).

    Happy with the coyote skull on my backpack still. It’s growing familiar.

    Glad that I got it from the Tea Witch of Waynesboro.

    Growing tired and excited to be sleeping in a cozy bed tonight. Still looking forward even more to the soft cozy bed that I’ll have with company a week from today.

    That’s a day.

    Wormwood.

    Out.

  • “The Witch of Waynesboro”

    AT Day 49

    Miles: 8.48

    Total Miles: 901.78

    (Calf Mountain Shelter [tent])

    I’ve had “cat skull” on my shopping list for more than 500 miles now. You might be asking yourself, “Why would someone want to add a cat skull to their gear weight on a thru hike?” And the answer to that, my cheerful friend, is that I’m weird, I take a lot of mushrooms, I have an affinity for skulls in general, and it just seemed like a good idea at the time when I added it to my shopping list.

    Where did I think I was going to find a cat skull? I don’t know.

    Did I find a cat skull? No.

    But I did find an Appalachain Tea Witch who sold me a coyote skull from a “magick” shop. And I think that’s pretty close to the original goal. So I’ve removed “cat skull” from my shopping list.

    Let me just say before I get too far ahead of myself that the city of Waynesboro was perhaps my favorite trail town yet! From the guy who picked me up (trail angel Kevin), to the fly shop that held my mail for me, the YMCA where I got showers and a workout in, the bar that had a selection of NA beers, the lady at the laundromat who told me about her family in Charleston and what it’s like living in Waynesboro, the cute-little coffee shop where I got a half-caf americano, the witch at the magic shop, the lady who (somewhat sloppily) trimmed my hair, and the combo U-Haul Rental/Smoke Shop where I bought my first “Delta 8” weed.

    What a wild ride.

    Oh. Did I mention that I also went back to Cook-Out again? My buddy Leo who introduced me to the restaurant pointed out that this is 4 visits in like… 3 days or something. But this will be my last one moving north I think. So soak it up while I can.

    On my way out of town I stopped at this little place called “Pyramid Appalachian Magick” shop. On the way into town I got the feeling like my ride and the other two hikers were making fun of it, and it spawned a conversation about astrology being bullshit–way too easy for a group of 4 guys. And although I have some strong opinions on the subject, having been engaged to and nearly killed by an astrologer, I kept myself quiet through the banter. I did want to stop in though, and managed to make it in as my last stop (other than Cook-Out) before coming back to trail.

    The gal working there introduced herself as Rachael, “The Tea Witch.” I expected to be sort of in-and-out of the place; maybe find a cute trinket gift for Boots next weekend. But ended up talking to the Tea Witch for around a half an hour. They had a bunch of herbs there, including Wormwood and White Sage–both of which Rachael gifted me on my way out.

    But what caught my attention most was the collection of bones the shop had, including quite a few skulls. I asked about them and after thinking about it for a bit, decided I want to carry a coyote skull with me–at least for a bit. If I don’t like it then I’ll send it home to Arizona or back with Boots. But for now it’s a nice addition to my pack.

    Call me crazy.

    Call me what you will.

    Tomorrow’s Day 50. And after that I’m planning to take a tolerance break to let my brain, my soul, my heart, and my mind all recover for a bit.

    The fog on trail this afternoon was so thick that I almost couldn’t see the trail sometimes. It was so heavy that at one point at the top of a mountain, I got turned around, and ended up following the same trail back down for a half mile as I’d followed up. It took that long before I realized that I was accidentally back tracking. So up the hill, back down, then back up, then onto the RIGHT trail, and back down again. That one was frustrating.

    Later on I nearly ran into a deer, the fog was so thick. I was hiking with my headlamp, which was almost useless in the dark and the fog. I could only see a few feet in front of me, and was trying to watch my footing so that I din’t fall on the slick rocks when a deer darted off trail and into the brush. It couldn’t have been more than 6 feet away from me.

    I’m in Shanendoah National Park now, and I’ll be here for about 150 miles. Someone suggested that it’d probably be around 12 days, but how they came to that number is beyond me. I think they must have been drunk or slow. I’m trying to take my time between here and Harper’s Ferry, so that I get there on Thursday of next week, not any sooner or later. That puts me at around 20 miles a day between here and there. Those are short days for me, but I’m totally okay with that. I’ll just spend more time sitting by streams (if I can find them; there aren’t many up here on the ridge line.), dancing, and listening to the breeze.

    There is something strange out in these woods.

    It doesn’t feel like the other trails that I’ve been on. This one is different.

    I keep saying it.

    But there’s a different kind of Magick out here. I’ve been calling it “god” or “magic” or sometimes even “God.” But I haven’t had a word that’s felt right.

    I’m going to try Magick for awhile and see how it feels.

    So far the fit seems right.

    Wormwood.

  • “Cheerful & Unrested”

    AT Day 48

    Miles: 18.98 (+2.81 mile road road walk)

    Total Miles: 893.3

    (Waynesboro, VA)

    Alright… so last night around this time I was getting ready to curl up into a little ball in the shower stall of Love Ridge Mountain Resort to hide out from the rain and avoid having to set my tent in the storm.

    It was probably 3am when I gave up on the stall and pulled my sleeping pad out into the main part of the 3-stall bathroom. If one of the two who were bike/skating across the country needed to pee, I was willing to have them step over me. It felt like I didn’t get any sleep, but my watch registered some, and in all honesty, I felt pretty good on trail today, in spite of the bad weather. So I must have slept at least some. When that was however is a mystery to me. All I remember was the tossing and turning and trying to get comfortable without being able to fully extend my legs.

    Didn’t want to go out into it this morning, but that’s also part of thru hiking. I feel spoiled even being able to pop off trail like I did last night. When that came up on the PCT I had to spend a night in a culvert to escape the weather. Shoot–Love Ridge offered to leave a frozen pizza out for me to cook when I arrived had I wanted to fork up the $15 they wanted for a f*ucking Desurno Pizza. Highway robbery, but I digress… I did not end up eating a pizza there. Stuck with Top Ramen instead.

    In spite of the outrageously priced pizza, they had what appeared to be free coffee available this morning. Either that, or I’m currently on the run for stealing coffee from Love Ridge Mountain Lodging, or whatever-they’re-called.

    Got me going, and I was out the door right at 8am (after another hot shower… I was paying $50 for a “camp site” after all, so I was going to get the most of what I paid). There was a 3 mile road walk and I expected that I’d be able to catch a hitch along the way, but only saw one vehicle the whole time. And it was a park service vehicle; they never pick up hitch hikers. Almost never.

    So a rainy road walk, then a rainy trail walk.

    I was smart enough to put on my rain pants, jacket, and umbrella this morning though. Yesterday I went without the rain pants, and although the world didn’t end, by the end of the day my shorts were soaked, and that just sucks having a wet ass… can’t really explain why it sucks so much, but it sure does.

    But no wet ass today.

    Happy pants instead.

    There was surprising Trail Magic right at 5 miles into the trail this morning. Pouring down rain, and a father-and-daughter duo had a setup with burgers, chips, candy, and the like. I would have had 4 more burgers if I didn’t think it would have been awkward to keep saying “more protein please” so I settled for just the two. They wanted me to take some ‘tater salad, but how anyone likes that stuff is beyond me! So just burgers, then onto the trail.

    Although I was mostly dry from my rain gear, the trail was hard to hike today. Day by day I get a better understanding of why people treat the AT with such reverence. It is a tough trail. The climbs are non stop, it seems. And after a rain like today, the rocks are slick as sh*t! Today I legitimately found myself somewhat worried about falling and hurting myself. I moved slower because of it, but still couldn’t put out of my mind the thought of falling. Then getting paranoid about “manifesting that sh*t” or whatever that means, and trying to think of something else.

    At one point today there was a big group of what seemed to be high school students hiking the trail with a few adults. Must have been twenty of them. There was one in the back who seemed to have fallen and hurt herself. One of the adults was tending to what looked like an injured finger from a fall. I didn’t get a good look at what was wrong exactly, but the kid was really upset and clearly in a lot of pain. Hard for me to tell how much was actual pain and how much was just trauma from having taking a fall. I asked if there was any help that I could provide and both of the adults there said “no,” so I moved on. But I felt like there was help that I could have given… they seemed a bit in over their head. Not that I wanted to be in it with them, but I got the feel that they said “no” just because they didn’t want to interact.

    Anyways, the kid having fallen just seemed to validate what I’d been feeling much of the day; namely that those rocks are slick and a fall could be bad news.

    Had a bit of mushrooms after the trail magic, expecting that it could have maybe been challenging in the rain and wet trail, so didn’t eat very much. But the experience turned out to be surprisingly profound. Lord, how many times must I have written almost that exact sentence over the course of the last 48 days?

    There was a moment where it was challenging, but that moment didn’t last long before giving way to a lot of mental clarity and some new ideas that I hadn’t found before today.

    I know that I’ve been writing about the girl a lot the last ten days or so. And in light of that, I don’t want my bringing up a past relationship to seem like a reflection of that. In truth, a lot of the reason that I came to the AT has to do with a very bad ending to a very good relationship that I’d been in for 4 years before it ended in 2023.

    I’ve had a lot of unresolved tension around the end of that relationship, and the trail was a way for me to get away from things back home, and a place for me to find time to process what I couldn’t get through while I was living in Arizona. I needed to get away, and I needed to find time to think.

    The trail has provided both in abundance. Just as I knew that it would from having hiked before.

    It’s also a lot of the reason that I chose to add the psychedelic piece to my hike of the AT–to crack open pieces that I might not otherwise be able to break. I tried the more reasonable approaches. They didn’t work. I needed something more dramatic. I needed to leave home, fly across the country, walk 2,200 miles, and adding psychedelics to the equation has helped too.

    Today felt like a breakthrough, and like so many “breakthroughs,” it will undoubtedly be impossible to fully put into words. I’ll opt for brevity, as I’m becoming very tired as I write.

    I was listening to a couple of songs that I have heard hundreds of times since high school. One song in particular, by one of my favorite bands came to mind. And I specifically searched it to listen to just that one song.

    For some reason, it hit me completely different than it ever has before, and I understood the entire thing from an entirely different point of view. I literally stopped in my tracks on trail at the end of it and said, “that was a fucking breakthrough.”

    There’s still a lot that I have unresolved with that breakup. It ended very badly with my partner saying some extremely terrible things to me in an effort to cause harm. The details probably matter, but there’s no time for them here or now. Another time maybe.

    The harm that was done that night has stuck with me and been really hard for me to understand. Even now that almost 2 years have passed. I replay some of it through my head a lot still, even though I try not to.

    But something about hearing that song again today, under the influence of the mushrooms, and seeing it from a different perspective than my own was enough to make me stop and stand there stunned. I was in absolute disbelief.

    For the rest of the miles today I was in that state of feeling changed. It was profound.

    In a big way I feel like I found forgiveness and understanding today. And I cannot understate how much that had to do with why I came out here to hike the AT. It’ll take more time still to integrate and make sense of. But for now, I feel closer to resolve.

    Got to Rock Fish Gap, and there was a food truck selling kettle corn for a too much money. So I only bought one bag. Ate it while my ride into Waynesboro arrived.

    Dude who shuttled me in was extremely nice, very kind, and super informative. The other two hikers who jumped in were messy, one was a dick to the driver, and neither of them tipped. It pisses me off when hikers leave that kind of impression.

    He dropped me off at the YMCA where I got a shower and set up my camping across the street in this public park. Free camping here for a maximum of 3 nights. I think to keep it from turning into a homeless encampment. Shower at YMCA, ride to Cook-Out (Thanks Leo for getting me hooked on a fast food chain), and called both my parents while I ate more burger and milk shake than I probably needed.

    Talked to a cute chick in Tennessee while I walked home and wondered about the strange way that life unfolds sometimes.

    We have a fairly nice room booked in Harpers Ferry for the 3 nights she’ll be visiting next weekend. It’s far and away the best place that I will have stayed on trail, and isn’t at all “hiker amenity.” I sprung for something nice. It’ll be the half way point of the trail. It’s hard for me to know when we’ll be able to see one another next. And she’s driving 8 hours one-way to get here. So I didn’t mind spending a bit on that piece. It’ll be a nice break from trail, just as Trail Days was, but it’ll also be an awesome weekend with a girl I only recently met and barely know. But who I am developing stronger feelings for.

    My phone is dying. My eyes are sleepy.

    Will write again tomorrow.

    Wormwood.