Harpers Ferry, while not the true midpoint of the trail, is the mid point for me. I’m currently staying at the last nice place I will stay on the trail, a B&B overlooking the main strip. I had my last drink on the trail at the bar down below. Tomorrow at 6am, I start the latter, more disciplined part of my hike. Can I walk to Maine? Yes. Do I have the discipline to get to Maine on time, with my present budget? Well, that remains to be seen.

I tried to climb out of Harpers at 10am this morning. I stopped in for a cold beverage, and that was the end of my hiking for today. I met a few other friends I’ve not seen in five hundred miles, and really, there is a reason they were behind.

I am faster and stronger than most hikers out here, but my lack of commitment has held me back. Sure, I had some knee issues at one point, but I’m confident I can catch Turtle Goat and even FloMo. I’ve ducked under too many roofs to avoid weather/discomfort/challenge/loneliness, and too many of those roofs had pints on tap. With an entire life to potentially spend indoors and imbibing, I owe myself the next three months away from that. I need the next three months away from that.

I made the decision to continue North, because I’d regret heading to Maine right now. In my mind it would be giving up my thru-hike, in every real way that I had set out to accomplish it. In the same way, I’ve decided to quit drinking for the rest of the hike; something I had intended to do when I left Springer.

I’ve spent my entire life comparing myself to other people, and deciding I wasn’t as good as them. That is something I have to address on this half of the hike. The truth is, I’ve barely touched the beast of a fucking hiker I actually am, much in the way I’ve lived well below my potential for years.

Those who have quit in the last three hundred miles, did so during the most ideal hiking conditions we’ll ever get on this trip. It’s 90 degrees before 9am now, and there will be snow on the ground when I reach Katahdin. I’ve woken up in single digit weather, with my boot laces frozen many, many times before the AT. I know exactly how bad it’s going to get, and I know damn well I can handle it.

Three days off trail gave me much needed clarity. Two of my cousins are about to leave for college, and the other will be entering his senior year faster than he can imagine. Being around their energy, during this time of limitless possibility in their lives, was very refreshing. The trick is remembering that that time of limitless possibility stretches far beyond a few prime years.

My body is rested, my water bottles are full, and I have clean socks for the morning. Tomorrow, I’m going to start hiking this the way I’ve been wanting to hike it for weeks.

Below are a couple of photos on the office door at the Appalachian Trail Conservancy.  It is nice to know the trail is managed by guys with a good sense of humor.

 

I’m currently at my Aunt’s place resting, making gear repairs, and most importantly; catching up on Game of Thrones!

 

 

I made it to Harpers Ferry and stopped in at the Appalachian Trail Conservancy.  The ATC is a hell of a milestone for any thru-hiker, and having my picture taken out front was somewhat surreal.

I am the 1376th Nobo thru-hiker to come through this year.  A total of 1378 came through in 2015, the last in September.  Photos like the one above are put into a giant photo album, and I’ll be at the ATC first thing in the morning to have that album to myself for ten to twenty minutes.  It’s nice to check on old friends, and put faces to names I’ve read in shelter logs only.

I hovered over a couple reading the album today and saw the photo of a girl I met just before Fontana.  A short brunette with a mischievous smile and the darkest, widest brown eyes I’d ever seen.

When I met her on trail she greeted me with the firmest handshake I’d ever had from a woman.  Her words were almost curt, but precise.  Her straight black hair was pulled neatly under a ballcap, in a short tight bun.  The ULA pack next to her was orderly, compact, and somehow Zen-like.

In Fontana Village she went down to the general store just before me and I remember seeing her come back up the stairs clear as day.  What struck me was the complete change from the stoic badass she was on trail, to this carefree spirit in flip flops.  Her hair was liberated, curling just before her shoulders, her lips were red, and a smile lit across her face as she held up a six-pack, the words “Dirty Girl” printed across the cardboard.

I had two wonderful days with her in Fontana Village, the best times being breakfast at dawn on the upper deck of the lodge.  Great conversations over coffee, watching the sun slowly illuminate the mountain vista before us.

When we packed to leave and head into the Smokies, I hatched (what I thought was a romantic plan) to have breakfast with her one more time.  I knew she was faster than me, so it would be the last opportunity.

I entered the Smokies eight hours behind her due to the post office.  Nevertheless, I hiked for nineteen miles straight, which would be a 27+ to me now.  A 250lb bear crossed my path at 9pm, and I shouted at it.  It wouldn’t budge.  I was on a mission, and would not be dissuaded, so I flipped my headlamp to 350 lumens and charged at it.  It dashed up a tree and let me pass.

Near 11pm that night I made it to the shelter, and at 6am I shared a breakfast that lasted all of three minutes with her.  She told me to leave Fontana in Fontana, and I marveled at the absolute efficiency with which she neatly packed her gear and left.

I hiked out soon after, struck with the beauty of the retreating cloud cover, and the contrasting dark mountains below.  On top of a ridge I watched the sunlight stream down, the rays of light an alternating visual symphony painted by the clouds above.

Caught in the grandure of the moment in front of me, I realized she was right.  Leave moments in their moment.  It does not due hang on to them, or try to extend them.

Leave Fontana in Fontana.

 

 

It was a rainy morning in Daleville, but we were shielded by the coffee shop’s awning.  We sipped their hot brew while we charged our phones, and feverishly downloaded podcasts and audiobooks on their wifi.  Turtle Goat was gazing in thought and suddenly said:

“I think loitering is my favorite pastime now.”  The three of us nodded in agreement.

Like hitchhiking, becoming comfortable with loitering is another part of thru-hiker life.  Whether shelling all of the useless cardboard from your latest batch of groceries, or making a single cup of coffee seemingly last three hours to avoid the rain, it’s essential.

Today I am spending my lunch loitering in front of a gas station .3E off trail.  I heard there were burgers, and the rumors were true.  With a quarter pounder down and a side of mac and cheese down the hatch, I’m now enjoying the shade and charging my phone on an open outlet.

Finding outlets everywhere is another essential thru-hiking skill.  It’s the first thing you do at any restaurant.  Then of course, you check for wifi.

It’s always fun to people watch, and try to guess which ones think I’m homeless.  This is a nice spot in particular though, with great scenery.  Sure there are women on the trail, but it’s a treat to see a girl in normal clothes, who has actually shaved her legs within last month…

Time to head back to the trail though.  Six miles to Harpers Ferry, more burgers, and hopefully more scenery.  Dirty Girl needs a dirty girl.  Here’s hoping for a hiker-friendly bar.

Update:  Two former thru-hikers just gave me a ride back to the trailhead, where there was a cooler full of trail magic waiting.  Yes, the trail provides!

Yep.

Today was a tough 18.3, in horrendous heat.  I had intended to hike 22-23 miles and complete the “Roller Coaster” by end of day.  This section is so named for its continuous ups and downs.  For my Atlanta friends, it’s basically seven 3/4 height Kennesaw Mountains back to back, with lots of rocks in there for good measure.

It must have been in the 90’s, and I went through six liters of water, two with strong mixtures of Gatorade powder.  I was covered in sweat from 8am onward.  Every state seems to throw one more good jab at the ribs upon exit, and Virginia is no exception.

I am meeting up with my Aunt Monica in Harper’s Ferry, and staying with her and her family for a few days.  I was trying to get there by 10am tomorrow, but quickly realized that was way too optimistic.  We are shooting for Tuesday now, which gives me time to visit the ATC headquarters, and explore Harper’s Ferry.

A Houdini of a mouse got into my food bag last night, despite its being fifteen feet up in a tree.   It was a lazy hang to be sure, and I paid for it in trail mix.  While I usually have an extra day’s food in my bag, the distance between Front Royal and Harper’s is only 54 miles, so I packed exactly two and half days worth of food.

Thankfully, I ran across Bears Den Hostel today, and they had a reasonably-priced resupply available.  Upon arrival, one of their cooks handed me a “Hot Lovin.”  I literally walked through the door, spoke to no one, and was handed a bowl half-filled with warm pomegranate and half with beautiful cold ice cream.  I felt the love!

For $22 I got a day’s worth of food, a pizza, two cans of coke, a shower, and a tent spot for the night.  It’s a wonderful place.

I met up with WalkMore today, a hiker I’ve not seen since Hot Springs.  Lost is here as well.

When I met Lost back in Damascus, I knew he was good people immediately.  At the time he was wearing a pair of peach colored shorts; shorts which I had some history with.

“Dude, are those Flo-Mo’s?”

“Yeah man, she gave them to me.”  Thus, Lost had to be a good guy.  I now know that he’s one of the best on trail.

It’s cool enough to sleep now, and I’m still amazed that the liters of sweat have been showered off of my skin.  You never know what will happen on the AT.  A day that felt like a walking in hell, ended with pizza and a “Hot Lovin.”

Take care my friends.

 

 

 

 

Casper, and I left Waynesboro having spent $0.45 on a figurehead for our  vessel, an Aztec salad prong from a thrift store.

It was a challenging but good trip, I’ll have the full story when I zero in Harper’s Ferry three days from now.

This trip changed the nature of my hike, and put me back in touch with my original intentions for starting the trail.

The river taught me that it is okay to go with the flow, as long as it is approached from the correct angle, with the correct vigor.  What waves may come, those columns mounted, will guide even along unexpected avenues.

I miss the trail dearly.

 

 

I’m currently in a hotel room in Waynesboro making lists and provisioning for a six-day canoe trip.  “Aqua-blazing” is the term for paddling a section of trail instead of hiking it.  I was extended the last-minute invite for this trip while recovering at the Devil’s Backbone brewery this morning.

I’d highly recommend a visit there, and they are especially welcoming to thirsty hikers.  Nearly twenty of us woke on their property this morning, as they offer free camping near the bar.  Their $5 hiker breakfast puts all but Mountain Harbor’s to shame.

I’ve felt a great desire to go sailing for the past month, and hopefully this time on the water will satiate some of that.  Firebird is going with, and we have a group of eight total. I’ve not written about the others, but I am excited to share their stories.

I’m seriously considering flying from Harper’s Ferry to Maine and hiking the remainder of the AT southbound after this trip.  This removes the October 15th deadline for Katahdin, and is known as a “flip-flop” hike.

Honestly, the constant worry about making miles on time is stressing me out.  It’s sapping the enjoyment of the miles themselves.  With this plan I can easily hike into December on my present budget.  It also exposes me to the experience of being both Nobo and Sobo.  Sobo hikers are tougher, and I seek their strength.

This hike is ever teaching me to be present, appreciate friends while I have them, and be open and adaptable.  This course of action is really the application of all three lessons, and the one that settles my stomach the most.  My hike is about the exploration of freedom, not deadlines.