AT Day 25

Miles: 32.00

Total Miles: 484.25

(3 miles south if TN/VA State Line)

I’m very tired as I write this tonight. Even more so than normal. But I remember this feeling from my other long trails now. I’d forgotten in the interim. But it’s an entirely different thing to walk a 30 mile day compare to walking consecutive 30 mile day. The exhaustion accumulates.

This was my first “twin thirty” of the AT, and as I lay here tonight, my body is feeling it.

I need new shoes soon. I may get new ones in Damascus tomorrow, or I’ll order new ones to be shipped up trail next week while I’m in Damascus.

Tried to sleep in this morning. But the birds. They’re beautiful and all, but they make sleeping in impossible without earplugs. So although I’ve been trying to get on trail by 8am, and I was aiming to “sleep in,” I was still on trail by 8:15.

I met a young hiker this morning. We’ve met a couple times. He’s 20 years and straight out of the military. We talked for a few minutes before I said anything about the music playing from his phone. I asked him if anyone’s said anything to him about it. He said that nobody had. And if they did, “I didn’t really care if they do.”

I told him that I felt like it was my responsibility as a more seasoned hiker to tell him that it’s a shitty thing to play music aloud on trail where others can hear it. I don’t know if that’s the reason that he slowed down soon after that or not. He told me he was aiming for a 35 mile day today.

I never saw him again after that.

I ran into a tree today. And I mean right the fuck into a tree. It was a downed tree that was just high enough for me to not see with my head down to the ground. It hit me hard enough to leave me dazed for a bit.

Wept a bit more over my friend Joey who had his memorial yesterday in Anchorage. And the oddest thing happened today. The park where Joey’s memorial was held at is called Kincade Park. And for the first time in my life, today I met someone named Kincade. We hiked together for a couple of miles and conversation went deep, quickly.

Was at a shelter with Kincade while we both collected water and another hiker showed up. He was a guy I’d passed a few hours earlier while he was resting by a road crossing. He saw me take a drag off my vape pen and asked if he could have one. But I declined–told him I don’t like sharing with everyone getting sick on trail. He completely understood.

Then I remembered something. I’d been given a baggie of weed about 250 miles back at Standing Bear, while I was waiting for my ankle to heal. I hadn’t asked for it or anything; someone just gave it to me. Not being one to turn down a gift, I accepted. But I haven’t been smoking flower on this trail, which is to say that I’ve carried it in my pack ever since… It’s just been in there… stinking up my diddy bag whenever I go in there for my wallet or tooth brush.

So I told him he could have that, and he obviously accepted with gratitude and said that he’d buy me a beer when we get into the next trail town. I told him that I don’t drink, but that the trail provides. He’ll probably still grab me a meal in Damascus tomorrow.

Wet feet for a lot of today, as the rain came and went from the afternoon until sunset. There was an hour or two there where it was coming down pretty steadily. It reminded me of a guy I met at that hostel the day before I started the trail–who was carrying big knee gaiters because he said that he doesn’t want his feet getting wet on trail. Well brother, I think this might not be the right trail for you… or maybe you’ve learned to change your tone on wet feet.

That reminds me of a hiker I met three or four days ago. He was a young kid–maybe 18 or 19 years old. And he’s hiking the trail without any rain gear. When he told me that, I literally stopped in my tracks and turned around to check if he was being serious.

I told him he should take the trail name Kamikaze.

Damn I’ve been eating a lot of food this last week. My weight and physique still seem like they’re doing okay, so I think that it’s just my metabolism cranking up more than it was already at when I began the trail. Hiker Hunger is a well documented thing, but I didn’t think that I’d experience it since I was coming into trail with such a high volume of training in the preceeding 6 months. But I guess it still doesn’t compare to the volume of work that goes in when it’s day after day and week after week.

I took refuge under a tree trunk at one point this afternoon. Or maybe I should call it “the remains of an entire root system that was blown over in the storm last year.” There are a lot of places like this. Where it’s not that trees are just blown over, but that the earth has been overturned.

It had been raining for at least an hour, but I found this little sheltered area under the uprooted tree. It was the only dry place that I’d seen in awhile. And I could just barely fit underneath of it. So I huddled under and made Top Ramen for dinner. It was a really nice moment in the day. And after I had finished putting my stove back away, it had stopped raining.

The trail provides…

Tomorrow I’ll cross into VA for the first time.

I’ll be in Damascus by late morning, and will likely spend the night.

Actively falling asleep.

Wormwood.

AT Day 24

Miles: 30.12

Total Miles: 452.25

(Watauga Lake, TN)

How do you even begin to describe a day that has had so many layers as today? A day that feels more like a lifetime than a day.

I started the day with black tea, honey, and a small square of (L)ove. The choice to add the latter dramatically affected the unfolding of the 10 hours to follow.

Today would be the first time in my life riding this train by myself and independently, from start to finish. It was almost two weeks ago when I met Specs and had that day up in the Smokey’s. This, I suspected would be a different sort of day, but I had no way of knowing how that was going to play out.

Already, as I start writing this tonight, I know that it’s going to be impossible to get even 1% of the day onto the page. But I’ll try all the same.

The places that I’ve been hiking through this last week have progressively shown more and more sign from the hurricane last fall. You heard about it in the news, but to see the wreckage in person is completely different. Yesterday evening I was hiking through a river drainage where there were remains of people’s lives–toys, slippers, a piece of a dog house that looked like it was purchased at Home Depot–it was all washed up on the river bank. But the bank of the river was literally 20 feet below, and this was all stuff that had washed all the way up here when the floods came through. It’s really unemaginable.

I thought that this would be about blown down trees. But this is literally uplifted earth. There are entire swaths of forest that are torn apart.

And massive applause to the ATC and all the work that has gone into clearing out all the damage from the hurricane. This would have been many degrees beyond impassable without some massive efforts over the past 8 months to make these miles passable again.

I don’t know for how much north I’ll continue to see damage from the hurricane. But this seems to be the heart of it. I hope at least that it does not become worse than this. I see now however how so many people died.

It struck me early this morning that today is “May the 4th.” I’m not a big Star Wars fan, and I never have been, but the day struck me this year because today is the day that a memorial is being held in Alaska for a friend of mine who took his life a few months back. His name was Joey Cotter, and he was an extremely cool dude. The fact that he’s not here anymore makes this world a less good place as a whole. I have so much more that I could say, but I’ll keep it short.

Much of today I spent reflecting back on Joey–the time we had growing up and going to school together, and the fact that his life ended like it did. I know that his mom is at least passively following my hike of the trail on social media, and I wish she could know how much time I spend thinking about him out here. Today was especially the case, but he comes to mind literally every day. I’m really upset that he took his life. And I’m really upset that he’s not in this world anymore. I also understand. But it’s hard. I wish he could be out here doing this instead… but we each have our own lives to live.

I tried telling another hiker about it at one point this afternoon. The trip was settling down by then, or so I thought, and after he had told me a bit about his dad passing away, I asked if I could share a bit with him. I tried telling him about Joey, but just started falling apart in tears. I was an absolute mess. I could barely force the words out. We just kept hiking, and he even asked if I was okay, which I was. But I was a blabbering mess as we stumbled down trail, my still trying to tell him that today is Joey’s memorial.

—

At some point I met a hiker, and I zoomed passed him. But as I went by I asked his name and he said “Broken Ass Turtle.”

I spent some time thinking about that after we saw one another for that moment. I feel like a name is important. And not that his name is bad, but what must that do to a person if every time they introduce themselves to another hiker, they begin with “broken.”

I dated a girl last year who refused to let me say that people are ever broken. We disagreed about it at the time, but progressively she convinced me. People aren’t broken. But sometimes we feel that way. And sometimes we identify with that feeling of being broken.

Shit dude… don’t call yourself “broken” every time you meet someone.

Later on I met a guy who introduced himself as PMA. I went by quickly, but paused and asked him what that stood for. “Positive Mental Attitude” he told me, then sniffed and sneezed. I had the impression that he was sick or something, but when we met again later on he told me that he has allergies that are going absolutely out of control. I loved his trail name, but especially considering I was seeing the world through the lens of (L)ove today, his eyes were so puffy that they looked like they were about to pop out of his head! He was clearly miserable. But I gotta say–he still had that P.M.A.

I told him several times that his trail name was brightening my whole goddam day.

Saw an old dude on trail at some point. He told me his trail name was Flash. But that’s about all I saw of him. He was behind me in a flash.

The memorial for Joey was at 2pm today in Alaska. I figured that was at 6pm, out here on the Eastern side of the US. Around that time I stopped and had a moment with him. I had cried several times through the day. There was a blooming flower on a tree. I looked it up. It was a Flame Azalia. I picked it and carried it with me for a few miles, down the mountain and down to where the trail follows a lake shore.

I stopped at some point by the lake and threw the flower in.

I had my moment to reflect.

I cried.

Maybe the most profound thing happened today at dinner.

It was maybe the most important thing that’s happened on trail since beginning at Amacalola Falls, 24 days ago.

Just after I’d thrown that flower into the water, I caught another guy on trail. He was carrying a bunch of fishing gear–rods, a bucket, a net, and tackle. Most people in that situation would have pulled aside, but we just started talking as we both walked down trail in single file.

It wasn’t far–maybe 75 yards, when we got to an intersection. The trail split and led down to the lake or followed the AT, but I could see he was about to head down to the lake to fish. I asked if I could join him, since I was going to have dinner around there soon. He said yes, and so we continued on.

He was younger than me, but surprised me when he told me he was 29. I would have guessed mid 30s. He told me his name was Adam.

We talked a little bit about fishing and about Tennessee. A little bit about the trail.

Then he told me that he’s a pastor at the church in the nearby town.

We talked some more, but I wanted to ask if we could talk about Joey, and so I did. I told him that I felt bad asking him for some of his service during his time off work when he’s just trying to fish, but he authentically didn’t seem to mind. He reminded me that today’s Sunday, after all.

As I write this I’m tearing up heavily. The weight of today, and especially the time I spent with Pastor Adam was a lot. And although I say this a lot, I mean every word of it in this–The experience of being out here and in this has authentically led me closer to god. I don’t know what the fuck that even means, but there are things that have happened out here that I can’t start to understand or even feel close to comprehending. But I have to either call it God or I have to call it Magic. And i don’t know which is better.

There are tears falling on my sleeping pad.

I told Pastor Adam about Joey, about his passing, about today being his memorial. “Actually,” I said, “it’s taking place literally right now, while we’re talking, but up in Alaska.”

It’s not possible for me to share all of what Pastor Adam said as we were together. He set up four fishing rods, and we watched a rainbow form over the lake. It was very possibly the best view I have had on the trail up to here. I ate my macaroni and Lucky Charms, and Pastor Adam basically gave me a kind of sermon, for lack of a better word. He asked me a few more things about myself. I didn’t want for my breakup with Danielle to come up, but the conversation led to that. I tried to skip over it, and he brought things back to it. I told him that’s a lot of the reason why I’m out here on trail. Because my office was way too close to the Railroad Tracks for me to feel comfortable any longer. I didn’t want to end up like Joey. I had to find some kind of change. And so I’m out here.

And so I’m out here…

And so…

I’m out here.

Today was a lot. It was one of the most profound days of my life… but psychedelics will have that effect on you.

It wasn’t a day of pleasure, recreation, fun, fun, fun. Today was a really intense day of reflection, contemplation, and soul searching.

The trail is still young.

I’m planning to be in Demarcus on Tuesday.

Thirty miles ain’t bad for a trippy-dippy-hippy.

Wormwood. Out.

AT Day 23 

Miles: 16.07

Total Miles: 422.13

(Overlooking Elk River)

It’s funny now. As I sit down to write about today, I literally can’t even recall where I woke up this morning or set camp last night. It was dark last night when I set camp though. And early when I broke things down. Also, this forest is so ever-present and seemingly all-encompassing that the campsites have come to just bleed together in my memory. That happened on my other long trails too–where I’d have trouble remembering even where I’d been through that day. But it took much longer for that to happen on my other trails. It was almost immediately with the AT. Shoot… I’ve barely even taken any photos of camp on this trail. Not that it isn’t pleasant out here; it’s just not as breathtaking in photograph.

—

I woke up right next to the trail, but about 100 years up trail from a large, open camping area where several other hikers had set camp before me last night.

I rolled in late last night, and don’t like setting up camp that late when there are others around. It’s still weird to me how early thru hikers on the AT set camp–many of them around 4pm! But that also makes it difficult for me to find a place to camp by myself where I won’t disturb another hiker when I finish hiking at 8 or 9, as I like to most nights.

There was one guy who got out of camp before me as I was breaking things down this morning. I made some kind of commend like “uh-saw-due?” Which of course is California-Surfer-Stoner-Meme-Boy-Slang for “sup dude?” Which is contemporary slang for, “Hello there, good sir; how are you this fine morning?”

He didn’t answer, which is completely reasonable considering how weird it was of me to say “uh-saw-due?” Hhaving never met one another before that interaction.

But I caught up with him in short time after getting to trail. Up on a ridge that overlooked the miles we’d covered so far.

He told me that he’s a section hiker and that last night he celebrated hiking 1,200 miles of the AT over the last 50 years. I exclaimed congratulations and told him in response that yesterday I got to celebrate 400 miles.

He looked at me confused, and asked how that could be possible. “The official 400th mile of the AT isn’t for another 15 miles from here.”

I pointed at my Garmin watch and told him that I track everything by GPS. That I don’t really care about the “official trail milage.” That I track everything that I hike on the trail, so including the 9 mile Approach Trail, and little side trips to shelters and water, I was just over 400 miles now.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the moment that I was reminded that God does indeed exist…

I could hear him before he even started. He said, “Well, technically…” then stopped mid sentence as two trail runners wandered by and caught his attention. He shouted out to them, asking how far they were running.

And because of that distraction, I was prevented from opening my stupid mouth and telling that dude to go fuck himself.

Pardon my French and all, but this is something that just can’t go unmentioned.

No matter what you do out here, there’s somebody that’s going to tell you that you’re doing it wrong. And in making the observation that I think such a subjective assessment of somebody elese’s hike asinine, so too do I think it’d be silly for me to judge anyone else’s hike.

The fact is that there will be a lot of people who will claim that they hiked the AT this summer. And I’m cool with that. I’ve come to peace with the fact that what I call a “thru hike” and what others call a “thru hike” are often draumaticallly different things. I’m grateful that the person who taught me to hike–a guy named Stephan–taught me in a way that I can call “purist.” I do need to get the F off my high bourse with all of this. But it’s just been such a theme today and maybe throughout this week. So much more I could say on that, but I’ll leave it with that for now.

I got to the road crossing that lead me to the small community of Roan Mountain (spelled it wrong last night) around 11am. Which was perfect, because that’s exactly when the BBQ place opened for business. I was able to Yogi a ride from two trail runners whom I’d seen twice this morning, and they dropped me off right at the restaurant. I guess I was the first one in there for the day, as it was empty when I arrived, but by the time I left (literally 2.5 hours later) it was mostly full.

I’m not kidding when I say that I ate more in that one sitting than I may have ever consumed in a single sitting in my life. Sometimes, after coming off trail, menus and choices all become too overwhelming. Plus I was still a bit trippy dippy from the morning supplementation, and so ended up ordering way too much food. That’s not quite true though… it was the perfect amount of food; I just can’t believe that I ate it all.

I even asked the lady as she delivered it to my table, “Do you think that I’m going to finish all of this?” And she nodded. I guess she’s been around hikers enough before.

After the loaded backed potato, and double-burger with pulled-pork stuffed with French fries, I ordered two pieces of pie; a strawberry “Poke” cake and a chocolate pie. I didn’t know what a Poke cake was before today. I’m glad to know now.

That they let me stay in there and consume so much food for so long is a wonder to me. I know that I must have been making a scene of myself by the end. But damn… that was one of the best meals I’ve had in a long while.

I got an ice cream bar at the gas station across the street on my way out.

Resupplied at the small general market.

Hitched a mile up the road to a hostel where I had a box of other personal resuspplies sent from Arizona–including my more hardy rain jacket. Hung out there at the hostel for an hour or so. Got a shower–god how I love how easy it is to get a shower on this trail almost every day or two!

And waddled my ass back to trail.

Made another 7 miles in the afternoon, and although I hiked much later tonight than what I see from other hikers, it is still a bit early for me. But thank god. I need the sleep. My Garmin tells me I’ve been sleeping well, but I’ve been so tired today. I’m grateful for the chance to get a bit more sleep than I’ve found these last couple of nights.

Hoping for something exciting tomorrow.

Wormwood.