I am currently in Salisbury, CT enjoying a bit of civilization. According to the plaque near the door, this is the first public library in the United States.

I am here to charge my devices and upload video on their extremely fast WiFi. They’re kind enough to provide comfy chairs and inexpensive coffee as well.

Early this morning I noticed an infection forming in the big toe of my left foot. This is just another typical obstacle in a thru-hiker’s life. Thankfully there is a grocery with medical supplies here, and many good options for a zero day coming up.

Recently I was asked how this hike differs from my last hike, and the main hallmark is that I take better care of myself now. Self-care was something I begrudgingly attended to in 2016. I’d mash through miles, skip shower opportunities, and push myself into desperate, unplanned zero days.

Seeking to abate needless chaos this time, I’m listening to my body more intently than ever. While I’ve been accused of pink blazing in the past, the reason I prefer to hike with women is because, they are much better at taking care of themselves than men. When I hike with a group of dudes, I invariably push too far and too fast.

I remember hiking this section with Game Warden years ago, and telling her over breakfast that I was hiking a twenty mile day. I knew the heat index would be well over 110, but I planned to muscle my way through it anyway.

Four miles later, when she found me nearly passed out on the side of the trail, she casually mentioned a deli .2 off trail. I followed her there, drank many cold Gatorade’s and loitered behind the building. Soon twenty hikers had rolled in. Pinky and The Brain, Snorlax and Musicbox, Daddy, and many others.

We stayed till the evening and hiked on after the heat began to fade. My twenty mile day had become a six mile day. It had to, or else it would have been my last day on the trail.

The constant negotiation of ambition versus reality is the very essence of long distance hiking. Just ask Anish, who nearly killed herself twice on the PCT by refusing to carry two extra liters of water. It seems absurd to normal people, that at 2.2lbs per liter, water can be deemed unnecessary weight by hikers. Normal people don’t thru hike though, and all weight is subject to scrutiny.

“I’m on that no food, no water ultralight!” Proclaimed Clammy, just before waking into town.

You can bet that I do the same. There is nothing more satisfying than carrying exactly the right amount of food and water needed for a section. Though, truth be told, I always seem to have a day’s worth of oatmeal at the bottom of my food bag.

Keeping clean and healthy can be quite the challenge out here. I’ve long been a louffa fan, and recently I have become a daily baby-wipe bather. I carry soap, conditioner, and shampoo these days. Showers are few and far between, but when I get them, I take full advantage. It’s worth it to me to carry these items for seventy, to sometimes one hundred miles between uses. Hike your own hike!

My next town stop will likely be Great Barrington, MA. Upper Goose Pond is also coming up, a common place for hikers to zero. I’ll be sure to stop in, as I missed it last time. Until next time. Take the best care of yourselves on, and perhaps more importantly, off trail too!

It’s funny how writing while tired is so much like when I used to write while drunk. I made few quick edits on my last post when I woke up this morning. I felt that same barely tangible sense of guilt I used to possess, every night after I mixed several beers and Facebook.

I’m reading Glover’s No More Mr. Nice Guy, which is hitting home more than I care to admit. I’ve read books on co-dependency before, but I’ve never exactly fit that mold. The “Nice Guy Syndrome” succinctly explains everything I’ve struggled with socially in life. I fit that mold perfectly. While I’ve done a lot of work already, having realized some of these tendencies through mediation, Glover shines a light in some pretty dark places.

I’m a thirty three year old man, and I’m only now learning how to get my needs met. AA is filled with “Nice Guys” and these tendencies are the cause of the alcoholism I struggled with for over a decade.

I’ll get more into the book and what I’ve learned from it in depth in a later post. I’m too exhausted to tackle it now.

I’ve spent much of the day in my head, and with the encouragement of Tater’s mother yesterday, figuring out what I want my hike to be. I want it to be a truly solo, hike your own hike venture at its core. Sure friends will come, but I’m tired of running to keep up with people, or slowing to let them catch up. I’m letting all of that go as of today.

I’m also letting go of the need to finish this post right now. It’s finally starting to rain, and I’m all snuggled up in my bivy. I’m going to sleep so hard!

Tonight I am sleeping inside the MT Algo Shelter, at mile 1468.8 (Northbound). Quite often hikers will make impromptu markers at various distances from Springer Mountain to track their progress. These literal milestones, have spelt out “1300” and “1400” recently. As a Flip Flop hiker, these signs mean little to me, so I must keep track of my own mileage, measured from Harper’s Ferry, WV instead. As of tonight I’ve hiked 443 miles over the course of thirty-three days.

I’ve been on trail long enough to feel like a real hiker, even among the NoBo’s. Initially, it felt very much like I had just yellow blazed 1000 trail miles, yet I was still walking around telling everyone I was a thru hiker. I felt guilty for accepting trail magic for a good hundred miles into the journey.

Now that my gear is sufficiently funky, and no shower can remove all the dirt from my body; I am the genuine article.

Tater Tot and I investigated a random hiker box left at the edge of a field near Pawling, NY this morning. We were immediately questioned by a rather tenacious woman who believed us to be day hikers. In her defense, Tater was slack packing, and many confuse my Hyperlite for a daypack.

After relating that we had, in fact, over 4200 trail miles between us, the woman calmed down. I continued munching the lovely banana chip treasure trove guilt free, and the lady decided to follow us for a few miles.

Tater was not in the mood to talk, and of late I’ve acted as a sort of social buffer in such situations. She hiked on and I continued exchanging pleasantries with the slightly calmed woman hiking on my heels. Eventually, she directed the conversation towards:

“I’d thru hike, but you know, I have a job and responsibilities.”

When you tell a thru hiker on the AT this, you sound like a jerk, and they hear instead:

“I’d thru hike, but I don’t want it badly enough.” Yes, that’s what you’re trying to say.

It’s like when I recently told a pilot I had always wanted to fly, and put up a barrage of excuses for why I hadn’t. He knew damned well what the truth was. I didn’t want it badly enough.

I made the decision to hike on, further legitimizing myself as a thru when I left her in the dust.

Tater and I were parting today, and the Connecticut border was less than seven miles away. From there she’d be hopping in the car with her mom, and going to Maine to finish her last state. Bittersweet to be sure, but Tater was stoked. Hell, I’m stoked. I can’t wait for her to reach that beautiful sign, on the windswept summit all of us seek.

Instead of staying another night in Greenwood Lake, I made the compromise to leave after dinner on the 5th of June. This was barely within the limits of propriety, but I had two factors drawing me away. First, I wasn’t comfortable with the house guests mentioned in my last post, and second, I wanted to at least say goodbye to Tater properly. Even if I didn’t reach the CT border with her, I wanted to do better than the casual wave I gave at our last parting.

At 7:30pm I left my Cousin’s place and made for the trail. He walked with me for a half mile or so, and soon after I received an unsolicited hitch to the trailhead itself. From there I proceeded to hike until 2am, finally stopping for the night some ten miles down trail. I pitched my bivy near a rocky outcrop and continued on around 7am the following morning.

Soon enough Tater caught up to me, and extended an offer for me to stay with her and her mom at a nearby state park. I accepted happily.

Why did I want to hike with her so badly? A few reasons. Most importantly, she keeps me laughing all day. The importance of such a moral boost cannot be understated.

We have similar experiences on the AT, which can only be understood by other LASHers (Long Ass Section Hikers). People who have had to leave the trail before, and have made the effort to return, are a special kind of crazy. I like that crazy.

Thirdly, we’re both out here trying to deconstruct our last relationships. We’ve had some seriously insightful dialogs on that point. She’s younger than me by eight years, but definitely has her shit together, and much to teach.

Yes, she’s also incredibly gorgeous and attractive beyond measure. On the list of things well, she has them all. I’m grateful to have had a chance to clear a couple of states with her.

Her mom is every bit as amazing. “Snake Charmer” understands hikers in a way that only a parent who has been along side their wandering child can. You have to be a pretty amazing parent to drive across the country to support your daughter’s thru hike.

Snake Charmer cooked us breakfast and dinner for three days, and slack-packed us from the park, which had glorious hot showers.

The best part though, is that the family dynamic between her and her daughter matched that of my own family. We have the same sense of humor, and it made me miss home. It made be nostalgic for a time when my family was a decade younger, with more vitality.

Had I been on trail in earlier years, I think both of my parents would have taken great interest, and subsequent care of me during my hike. My mom has always been my greatest cheerleader out here. It’s been really tough thinking about how the stroke has affected her.

You have to appreciate people while you have them. You have to be present while the present moment still exists. I’m going to bed quite grateful tonight, because I feel that I understand and can execute on this principle at last.

I parted with Tater and her mother properly, with hugs. She told me to have fun hiking in the heat, and I told her to enjoy walking up those big ass mountains. Sarcasm is the proper goodbye.

In all seriousness though, I cannot wait for her summit photo.

I should be asleep already. It’s nearing 12am, and I broke camp at 5:30 this morning.

I’d like to sleep, but in reality, I’m wide awake and I just want to make miles.

I’m staying at my aunt and cousin’s home in Greenwood Lake tonight. I originally intended to pull off trail for a single day, and start hiking again tomorrow. My cousin really wants me to stay for dinner tomorrow, and I think my aunt would like to have me for a week. I feel the compromise is to night hike out tomorrow evening.

Towards the end of Pennsylvania I started hiking with a new group of people. Among them, Tater Tot and I seem to jive pretty well. I’d really like to hike with her to the CT border, where she will then flip up to Maine to finish her last section.

If I leave Saturday morning, instead of Friday night, I feel like my chances of keeping up with her will wane significantly. If I never hike with her again I’ll be seriously fucking bummed.

Additionally, the situation at my aunt’s is strange. My cousin has two long term guests, overstaying their welcome by some eight months. It’s not my house, nor are they my guests, but I’m a bit… Charged by the situation.

I hate seeing kind people taken advantage of by obvious degenerates. When those kind people are my family, it’s difficult to stay quiet. The oft referred to “fuck heads” have a son with them, and he seems like a good kid. I understand the conflict my cousin faces on this point. Too many children miss so much opportunity in the face of domestic instability.

Honest intention and right speech are brutally difficult, but necessary. I am the last person who can make judgements on another’s lack of action in this regard. Still, they need to get the fuck out of here. My cousin is more than willing to put the kid up for free, provided he keeps his grades up.

When asked what boys should be taught, the laconic Spartan king Agesilaus II replied:

“That which they will use when men.”

Maintaining some level of academic performance in return for room and board may seem harsh to some. In reality, it is a great kindness to be taught this virtue early on. As Jordan Peterson often points out, would you rather have a safe child, or a strong one?

The latter would be my choice. I feel for the kid though. It’s obvious from their adulthood, that his parents were never themselves parented thus. Much to the detriment of their progeny.

A common thread among thru hikers my age, is their lack of interest in having kids. I am among them. There are enough children in the world already, many with shit parents. It’s a better use of my time to mentor those kids, than have my own. To some degree, everything I do is with that aim in mind. One day I’ll teach the lessons from my endeavors.

Well, this has turned into an oddly self-serving narrative all of the sudden.

My mental high horse should be taken with a grain of salt. In all reality, I’m just up late musing about a beautiful woman. I hope I’ll get to hike with her tomorrow.

I’m pleased to report that I have walked across New Jersey and entered New York since my last post.

To be honest, I haven’t been in much of a writing mood of late. Sure, I could recount everything I’ve done in the past few days step by step, but I prefer my writing to have a bit more substance than that.

The true challenge of hiking lies on the mental side of things, which is what I prefer to write about. I simply haven’t had much time, space, or downtime to compose anything. This may sound absurd to people at home, who would likely retort something like:

“You have all the time in the world!”

At the moment, it behooves me to spend that time eating, sleeping, hiking ten to fifteen hours a day, and laughing with my trail friends/family. When I have the proper downtime, go back to bi-phasic sleep, and hit a 3MPH pace, more in-depth posts will surely follow.

I’ve discarded a few entries this year, which I later found just didn’t meet my standards; my internal “gut” check. I’d rather err on the side of waiting for the words, instead of trying to force them out.

In the meantime, the icons in the header link to my YouTube channel and Instagram. Lately I’ve been putting a few quick blurbs on YouTube, because it’s easy to do while hiking. Feel free to check them out!

For now, here are some photos:

The climb out of Palmerton was one of the most fun ascents ever. I left the trail and climbed hand over fist to the ridge line to grab this photo. I sat up there for a good half hour, taking in the beautiful morning sky, and the valley below.

Delaware Water Gap is the last town in PA along the Appalachian Trail. It signals the “end” of the dreaded Pennsylvania rocks, of which I’ve had my fill.

I stayed at the Church at the Mountain’s hostel.

Many thanks to Ron “Star Geezer” of the Lehigh Valley Amateur Astronomical Society for giving me a tour of all the observatories on the club’s property.

Located just off trail, I waved to, and met Ron, while he was giving a tour of the facility to friends. An amateur astronomer, and aspiring telescope builder in my teens, I found the place quite fascinating.

The club is in the process of building a 44″ Cassegrain telescope, the mirror of which weighs five hundred pounds! I was shown the equivalent weight and size blank they formed out of concrete, which safely simulates the mirror. This way they can test the mount and balance of all components in a safe manner before the real mirror is installed.

That single reflecting component was made by the club members themselves, one of them having purchased the glass blank in Germany some fifteen years previous. Now at its third optician, the mirror is receiving the final reflective coating, at a cost of $35,000 USD!

Other scopes included a 17″ Dosonian, an 8″ refractor, and two large Cassegrains, one weighing well over 1500 pounds.

Ron is kind enough to maintain a privy on the property, near Pulpit Rock in PA, for passing hikers. He also gave me permission to pitch my tarp on the property, a privilege I was quite grateful for!

More information about the LVAAS here.

Recently, while rock hopping over potential timber rattler homes, I listened to Cal Newport speak on the Rich Roll podcast. Therein he described solitude as the absence of other human input entering your brain. In other words, a space where all thoughts are completely your own.

Listening to a podcast? Not solitude. Reading a book? Not exactly solitude either. Listening to music, or angry rattling reptiles? That counts.

It’s a beautifully succinct description, and the fact that it even requires definition is telling. We are less and ever less freely able to find solitude, even when walking completely alone along a ridge line.

One profound shift since my hike in 2016 has been the prevalence of Instagram use among hikes. The hard copy trail registers located in every shelter are barely written in anymore. As one Class of ’99 hiker told me.

“Your generation doesn’t even know what to do with those anymore!” As I flipped through the pages of one.

I do know though. I miss the art and poetry they once contained. I miss the messages of love and support hikers used to send to each other. I miss the heart break and release of men mourning the loss of their wives. I miss the veterans speaking about finding peace again. I also miss the jokes and Teddy’s privy reviews.

There is a wonderful aspect to putting a face to a name you’ve seen in the trail logs, entries dated just ahead of you, for months. A simple joy unintentionally undermined by Instagram and social media in general.

Maybe I’m being a curmudgeon. I do believe there is a disparaging affect to being so instantly connected out here though. It seems quite antithetical to the pace of trail life.

Part of my love of the trail is that there are no Jones’s. There’s no politics, and quite rarely religion for that matter. The trail is where I go to ladle the primordial soup of ideas, endlessly bestowed on less distracted minds. Tapping into that wellspring becomes damned difficult with The Trek celebritizing the guy you started on Springer with. Suddenly, the Jones’s are back.

This trail is one of the last bastions of REAL human contact left to us. People are what make the AT memorable, the people you’ve shared air and food with. The people you like and follow, because you genuinely enjoy their company, not their fucking selfies.

I am no less affected. Sad that I have to make a conscious effort to curtail my Facebook and Instagram use out here, but there it is. Little squares on my telephone stealing the peace of hard-earned views. I sat on Pulpit Rock in PA tonight, suddenly stressed that three people were texting me at once. I turned that shit off, took in a breath, and became aware of the breeze on my skin. I watched the lights in the distance come into better view with the receding sunlight.

I almost threw my phone off the cliff then and there, but alas. I have a blog to write. Maybe if I stop posting to Facebook and Instagram, I’ll even have content for it!