It’s warm tonight. My hope is that I’ll be able to get up and eat a hot breakfast before leaving camp in the morning. It’s been too cold to do that lately, and there are two options for dealing with that.

The first is to sleep in till 10am or so, when the sun is high and it’s often ten to twenty degrees warmer. Option two is my preferred way of dealing with cold mornings. In this method you wake at dawn, pack as quickly as possible, shove a cliff bar in your mouth and start hiking as fast as you can.

If you’re lucky, it’s above freezing and you don’t even have to stop for water, because you have two or three liters filtered and ready to go. For nights where it does freeze, or I suspect it will, I’ll filter one liter to drink overnight, and gather the rest in the morning. For me cold mornings mean numb hands, and the only way to un-numb them is to make miles. Fast. As long as you eat first!

Google “Navy Seal Dynamic Warmup Drill” and read thoroughly. The static drill is worth knowing too.

I went over Blood Mountain the morning after my last post. I had a quiet lunch at the overlook with two day hikers who were very interested in what I was doing. As I headed down the back side of the mountain, I could see rain clouds rolling in. I made an extremely fast resupply stop at Neel’s Gap, after I realized I was a half day short on food. I raided their hiker box before entering the store (I’m not a rookie anymore) and scored nearly a full bag of Triscuts. Olive oil packets, Crystal Light packets, and a lone peppermint patty also dropped into my food bag. Always check the hiker box!

After leaving the gap I decided to gamble and head to Whitley Gap Shelter. Most AT shelters are within .2 miles of trail, but Whitley is 1.2 miles off trail. The storm was coming, and most of my fellow thru hikers do not have their legs yet. The bet paid off, I was the fourth hiker to roll in, thus securing both a dry place to sleep, and forgoing packing a wet tent in 30 degree wet misty morning. Come the storm did. Hikers at Neel’s Gap reported hail, and I bet we had some too.

The next morning I went to Low Gap Shelter, which I’d wager a large sum was full to the brim during hail night. A section hiker was kind enough to supply my toilet paper (okay, maybe I am still a rookie) and thus had my thanks. That night and Blue Mountain Shelter, I gave him my shelter spot, and I tented in the rain. It was a cold morning, but I made some coffee anyway. It tasted lovely!

At Blue Mountain I met Clammy, a hiker who is finishing his Triple Crown. He just got off of the CDT last year. Brian, a fellow AOC member was there, and from what I understand, we now have four Atlanta Outdoor Club members thru-hiking the AT this year.

This morning I hiked out of Deep Gap Shelter, and into Top of Georgia Hostel. I spoke with the owner, Bob, who recognized me, as I’ve rolled through there a few times now. We talked about life, divorce, and how things always happen for a reason. I picked up my resupply box, and ate a pizza, while speaking with a young Chinese college student. Apparently he was on a group section hike, and couldn’t keep up. I encouraged him to try it again someday.

I met a hiker named Slip and Slide, while trying to gauge the distance to the next shelter. She was using the Gut Hook App, but I prefer the AWOL Guide, and I prefer a paper copy over the .pdf. We figured it out, and she asked me to camp at Bly Gap so she wouldn’t be there alone. I crossed the GA/NC border at 5pm, on day six. That’s 86.4 miles with the Approach trail included.

I met Slip and Slide and Bly Gap, and there were already nine tents pitched. The climb out of Bly Gap sucked every bit as much as it did last time. I decided to press on to Muskrat Creek Shelter, about two miles out.

I could hear the people and the guitar a long ways off, and ducked off trail to check it out. I was greeted by a good looking girl in large glasses with a hammock setup. She told me there might be space behind the shelter. We chatted for a few, and I decided to press on to White Oak Stamp, about another .8 down trail.

Bly Gap was too exposed and windy, Muskrat was too loud and crowded, but White Oak Stamp is sheltered, cozy, and quiet. I have one neighbor, and I only know, because their headlamp pops up now and again in the distance. It’s nice to camp alone. I just stepped out to pee, and the stars are magnificent here. I boiled up some mac and cheese for dinner, and in the absence of tea, made a propel packet with hot water. I think the salt intake before bed is wise.

My body feels great. Except for one night, where my legs ended up down hill, and they locked up. Water and vitamin I. My back aches and my ankles are a little crunchy. I ran down a couple miles of mountain side yesterday, which I live for, but my knees asked me to wait a little while before I do that again.

I’m snuggled up tight under a small grove of rhododendron, and I saw my first patch of “you can do it!” flowers this afternoon. Oh, and here are my gaiters in all their glory. When they sparkle in the sun, it makes me and passers by very happy! Take care friends!

I’m currently sleeping in an unnamed gap, about a mile south of Lance Creek on the AT. Trail mile 22.6(ish). Today was a 14.5, yesterday I did a bit over 16.5 miles with the Approach Trail included. There is a ten mile section to the north, which requires hikers to carry bear canisters for overnight stays. Many hikers will edge up to the boundary, then hike across in the morning, making the camping at Lance Creek prime real estate. I stayed there in 2016, but to get a spot I had to roll in just after noon.

Rather than fuss with the crowd, I chose this gap, which has level ground enough for me and a potential neighbor.

I hung my bear bag using the PCT method per the advice of (Master) Splinter, a Ridge Runner who was teaching LNT methods to new hikers at Amicalol Falls. The Ridge Runners are employed by the Appalachian Trail Conservancy primarily as educators. They teach leave no trace to hikers, to limit damage to the trail. They are also veritable encyclopedias on their patrol route.

Gus once told me the exact spot where my phone would have service, three miles from where I met him. No bars, no bars, BAM! Three! He was spot on. Fifty feet to the left of Gooch Gap Shelter.

It was thanks to another Ridge Runner, Captain Planet, that I had some intel about the state of the crowd at Lance Creek today. She advised me to steer clear and aim for my present position. She loved my pink sparkly gaiters, and took a picture for her collection of things that make her happy. Don’t worry friends, you’ll see them in sunlit high resolution glory as well soon enough!

John sent me a picture of the snow he is dealing with in the Smokys right now. It’s hard to believe I’ll be up there in a couple of weeks. His hike seems to be going very well, though alas, no trail name yet. It’ll come in time, and I’m sure it will be quite epic!

He’s gotten plenty of trail magic so far, and with the weather he’s been through, I’m glad! A former thru hiker lady in her late 60’s gave me an interesting piece of trail magic. She pulled out a deck of cards, spread it out horizontally and asked me to take one “for luck.” I pulled this from the spread:

Good tidings indeed!

Tomorrow I’m going to try to hike all the way to Low Gap Shelter. It’s 20 miles away, and full of good memories. I have a small grocery list for the store at Neel’s Gap tomorrow, mainly more stove fuel and sunscreen. I took about two ounces of both, and it was quite an oversight. The sun is strong right now, and leafless trees offer no refuge. It’s not quite Spring in the mountains just yet. I did see a few violets, and this flower, which I do not know, but it reminds me of my mother.

At Neel’s I’ll be purchasing a few more snack items, maybe an extra dinner too. My first resupply box is 78 miles in (including the Approach Trail). I rolled out with a little over four days worth of food, and I think I’m going to run short.

I’m so happy to be back out here though. Happy to sleep in my posh “tiny house” again.

Every ounce of anxiety I had before trail disappeared when we pulled up to Amicalola Falls. I pretty much bounced and skipped my way to the arch.

And… The rain just started a day early. Take care friends!

I spent this afternoon communicating with my mother through questions, charades, and hand gestures. She cannot currently read anything I write here, and I learned a new word today. “Alexia.”

The stroke occurred sometime around my birthday, the second now in a four month span. She was hospitalized in between for dizzy spells, which resulted in her right-side carotid artery being cleared. The last time I spoke with her on the phone, she had a Freudian-slip of sorts, explaining to me that she “hoped to make it” to my birthday. We live five hundred miles away from each other, so it was an odd sentiment.

Her “mini” stroke in October left her with some cognitive decline. Even after her surgery, she remained often confused, almost child-like in demeanor. Given this, I noted her comment, but didn’t give it much weight.

She’s now only able to speak a small number of words, though she does seem to have full cognition again. She’s quite easy to communicate with in person actually. That she cannot communicate via phone, text, or even a hand-written note however, makes her oddly isolated. Skype might be a viable solution. Reading is her favorite pastime. I suppose audiobooks can fill that void?

In the past two weeks my mind has gotten pretty quiet. I’ve greatly reduced the incoming stimulus by turning off my phone and laptop regularly. While my meditative states aren’t as focused as they were a year ago, I’m able to sit and read for hours at a time. I’m sleeping about twelve hours a day, and only leaving the house to go for runs, purchase groceries, and visit my Sanghas. It’s beautiful, and it’s exactly what I’ve needed. Rest before a completely immersive adventure.

I keep weighing the ethics of going on a thru-hike while my mother in this state. The reality is, there is very little I can do to help her. I told her today, that I was leaving on the 22nd. She really didn’t respond either way. With her condition, I’ll be distant in a different way this time. I think she understands that. Keeping in touch with my sisters in real time is fairly easy on trail though. I can get home pretty damned fast too. It’s not the PCT.

On the drive down to Florida today my sister Kelly and I listened to Rich Roll interview Ross Edgely. Edgely swam around the entirety of Great Britain last year. He’s the first one to ever complete this challenge. He spoke a lot about “right reasons” and the support he had from his family. About an hour later, Kelly asked me about the reasons for my hike this year.

Really at this point, it’s about giving myself space for six months. I’m more committed to the time frame than I am the mileage, or even Katahdin. I need to mourn my failed relationship with Molly. The last time I put so much effort into a failure like that, I was riding the bus home from Vermont.

I gave her everything I had, and I’m still learning from her. I’m learning so that I can date again. Date one woman in particular, and I’m tired of long bus rides…

Mostly though, I’m hiking because I want to. I want it more than anything else. Hiking long distance is the only time in my life that I’ve gone to bed content to never wake up again. Absolute fulfillment. It’s my jam, even if I suck at it sometimes! It’s what I’m willing to suffer most for, and fear most never suffering for.

It’s the same reason Alex Honnold free-soloed El-Cap, Anish hiked her calendar triple-crown, and Catra Corbett keeps on running.

That, and the petite vagabonding Amelia Earhart Spitfires in running shorts. I do adore hiker-trash girls.

I quit my job on the first.  To be honest, I’m still unpacking that conversation.  I’m not sure if I’ll write about it here, but I will write about it, one way or another.  In the end, my boss was more supportive than I could have imagined.  He wants to sponsor a piece of gear for my hike, and keep track of my progress during the morning meetings.  This could be a lot of fun, and I really like the idea.

I’m hoping to discuss it again with him tomorrow, after I drop off my uniforms and my truck key, which I somehow forgot to turn in.  I will not allow that sponsorship or its related media to extend to this site however.  I feel a need for that disconnect.  Maintaining the integrity of my writing demands complete disregard for my readers, which is difficult enough.  The idea of sponsors entering into this space, and somehow influencing it, is unacceptable.

One beautiful thing about no longer being employed though, is the plethora of time on my hands.  Sunday was my birthday, and I spent it with John.  I arrived at is home, and went upstairs to his office.  He showed me his elevation profile spreadsheets, and meal by meal calorie plans.  There were a few open resupply boxes, and a dozen more staged in another room.  He’s been doing a tremendous amount of work in trying to make his plan a reality, thru-hiking the AT and PCT in one year.

There is a high probability that we will start the AT together, but he’s planning a four-month finish.  That is certainly not my hike, and his legs are longer than mine anyway.  I’d like to pace him to the Roan Mountain Highlands, mainly to get past the crowds.  Then I’ll dial it back, take in the views and hopefully get some solo time.

We ended Sunday with a five mile hike in mid-fifty degree rain.  Then we went for pizza.  A great way to spend my birthday!

I spent the whole of today with Some Shine.  She’s days from leaving on a six-month van trip, so the fact that she made that kind of time for me is pretty special.  She’s a Class of ’16 AT Thru-hiker, who finished a crazy awesome flip-flop hike over seven months.  She’s a total badass, and has been helping me navigate the emotional ups and downs of my hiking prep.

There have been days when I’ve questioned even doing this again, and she’s been there to listen. I’ve felt her “Sunshine” pour out to me a few times, and I witnessed her put smiles on the faces of many others today.  She has a magnetic kindness about her.

I arrived at her home during a power outage, freezing rain slowly receding.  Seeking refuge in the cold house, we had no choice but to spend hours cuddling on her couch.  We talked about anything and everything, and it was the perfect way to spend the morning.  She’s so lovely, and I’m every bit as excited for her trip as I am bummed not to see her for six months.

We grabbed lunch, and went for a walk.  Eventually it was time for goodbyes.  It was the best day.

I plan to get on trail no later than March 15th.  Between now and then I have a lot of tasks to cross off my to-do list.  I’m hoping to get everything done by the end of this Friday the 8th.  Then my plan is to spend the last week making YouTube content, meditating for several hours each day, and putting on as much weight as I can.  I was nearly forty pounds heavier during my last hike, and loosing too much body fat is a legitimate concern this time.

I’ve gained about six pounds in two weeks by upping my carbs alone.  I still have a massive hiker stomach, and eating 20oz of food in a sitting is pretty normal for me.  That intake is typically 90% vegetables and salad though.  20oz equates to an atrocious amount of pizza and potatoes!  Adding another five or six pounds by Springer will take a frightening amount of ease.

Stay tuned.  I’m hoping to have some gear videos up next week. My YouTube is linked in the banner at the top of the page.

I spent much of the last evening talking with my friend John, who is in the midst of his own pre-hike preparations.  His tasks involve selling a home, and leaving a job he’s held for over seven years.  In comparison, my preparations seem quite minimal and small.

One gem of wisdom that surfaced from that conversation however, is the realization that just getting on the trail itself is a huge accomplishment.  So many decisions, so much effort, and so many sacrifices need to be made in order to stand before that first white blaze.

It is the first and most important invisible mountain all thru-hikers must climb.  There is no guide book for it, and the elevation of that peak varies for everyone rather mercilessly.  I’ve met hikers who made the decision to leave home a mere two weeks before setting out.  For others, it came in the form of a childhood dream.  They placed some portion of eleven years of cutting grass, or babysitting, or minimum wage retail jobs into an account; all for this special day.  For most however, the planning state lies somewhere in between.

The beautiful thing, and the difficult thing to embrace about this, is that the path leading to “The Path” is pretty irrelevant.  It’s inconsequential, much in the way backpacking gear itself becomes irrelevant, once you find what works for you.  Spill any two hiker’s packs, and none of the items will be exactly the same.  Ask them to spill the beans about why they’re atop Springer or Katahdin, and you’ll find the same lack of conformity.  I love that.

Prepared enough is ultimately left to each hikers own contentment.  It’s a gut check performed on your most important parameters.  For some hikers it’s about health, insurance, and seeing their kids along the way.  For me in 2016, it centered around leaving my job in good standing, and making sure my possessions wouldn’t be a burden in my absence.

This time around it’s all about budget, and having enough money put aside.  I way under-prepared for this last time, and so it is the centerpiece of this year’s planning.  I am almost where I need to be on this, and it often feels as though I am simply biding my time.

Wait an additional two weeks for warmer weather, or buy a better insulating layer?  Is my rain jacket sufficient, or should I buy a better one?  Once you get down to these kinds of questions, you’re almost ready to hike.  I’m almost there.

 

 

This is the post I’ve been wanting to write since September 3rd 2016.  The day when I walked into the Inn at the Long Trail, placed pen to paper, and made my last AT logbook entry of 2016.  I couldn’t actually write the words “quit” or “going home.”  I was still in disbelief of the night that occurred before, and the number in my bank account that morning.

So much has changed since then.  The person I was when I left trail was the not the same as the one who started it.  The person who writes this now is not the same as the one who wrote the last post.  What has not changed though, is the goal, or the why:

-Hike the entirety of the Appalachian Trail from Georgia to Maine.

-Become a better person.

To have the opportunity to even attempt the former again, I’ve had to put great effort into the latter.

Humans are purpose-built for walking.  I’m convinced nearly anyone can physically travel from Georgia to Maine on their legs.  Whether their mind will allow them to do that is another matter entirely.  What I lacked in 2016 was mental toughness and the internal confidence it brings.  So that is where I began my training.

To be able to attempt the AT again in earnest, I’ve had to address my alcoholism, and the reasons for my alcoholism.  I’ve had to mature as an adult, and take charge of my finances.  I’ve had to mend and also sever some relationships.  I’ve had to seek out community, and humble my massive ego.  Most importantly, I’ve had to shift responsibility for my life from the external (other people, the past, etc) back to myself and the present moment.

This year I am ready to hike the AT again.  I’ll be leaving Amicalola Falls, and crossing over the plaque on Springer Mountain forty-seven days from today.  That is my 33rd birthday, and what a gift I plan to give myself!

I hope you will follow along as I share my adventure, my gear, and my thoughts on life over the next several months.

As always friends, be kind to yourselves.  Till next time!