Dirty Girl Hikes

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!

 

 

 

 

My cousin recently asked for my advice on buying a backpack. My mind engaged, my fingers began typing, but I had to stop. I quickly realized that I was about to write a book about it, all within a tiny Facebook chat window. For this reason, I’ve decided to talk about it here.

I’ve learned a lot from other people about gear, and I will link the sources I found most integral in my research. I’m going to be pretty unapologetic about my feelings (because they are actually facts, learned from experience) on this topic. While I did not finish the AT, 1700 miles exposed me to many other hikers, and their stuff.

What did I really learn after living on trail for 133 days? Just as Robert Frost summed up the whole of his life experience with “it goes on;” I too found a succinct, and simple answer:

“It doesn’t matter!”

No, really. It doesn’t matter, so don’t worry about it too much!

Every new hiker gets hung up on this subject, without understanding a few underlying facts, which are really only understood with experience.

Fact One, Weight: You’re going to carry too much weight on your first few trips. Everyone does! Later on, as you build confidence, you might even carry too little weight. Both of these extremes are uncomfortable, but you will find your Goldilocks in time. With common sense, you won’t die in the process!

Fact Two, Confidence: Eventually, you’ll stop caring about what other people are carrying, and you’ll come to disregard critiques about your own gear choices. You’ll come to realize that you are carrying your own pack weight, just as others are carrying theirs. As long as you’re not asking others to hoof your pack for you, what does it really matter?

That Zpacks owner doesn’t like your five-pound Coleman tent? Fuck Em!

That dude with the 85-liter Kelty pack thinks he’s tougher than you, because he’s hauling more weight than you? Fuck Em!

Be confident! You are carrying your own burden, and that burden is the product of choices you’ve made. Sound familiar? Life people. Stop judging others!

Fact Three, Individuality: The most beautiful, inspiring, and wonderful thing about backpacking gear is that it’s completely unique to the owner. Ask two hikers to spill their packs, and you will never find the same exact contents.

Celebrate this! Express yourself!

On the AT I met dudes like Mule, with his dialed-in Hyperlite Mountain Gear backpack. Clean lines, nothing dangling off the back, everything in his pack was neatly stowed away.

I also met a girl named Firefly, who had the most awesome, bohemian hodgepodge of a backpack ever. A Granite Gear pack at its core, but completely her own. She had a steam-punk style leather purse attached to the hipbelt, a dream catcher, bottle opener(s), art, flags, etc. I have few regrets on the AT, and one of them was never getting a picture of that beauty (her pack that is).

In both cases, these packs reflected their owners perfectly.

So you might be asking:

“What does matter?”

What matters is knowing how to use your gear, knowing its limitations, and knowing that it fits your personal needs.

Always try your stuff out before that big trip you have planned. This seems like common sense, but so many people come out (to the AT in particular) having never set up their tent, used their stove, etc.

When you start a thru-hike you’ll have so much going on mentally, emotionally, and physically. The most basic kindness you can allow yourself, is just a tiny bit of confidence that you can set up camp. Knowing that you can perform the basic tasks of sheltering, watering, and feeding yourself with the stuff you have chosen to bring, will bring TREMENDOUS relief during those first few weeks.

In my opinion, knowing how to use your gear is VASTLY more important than physically training for your hike. Get off the treadmill, and set up camp in your (or your friend’s) backyard. Don’t worry about getting in shape for the AT, the trail itself will do that for you.

Know the limits of your gear. If your sleeping bag says it’s rated for a certain temperature, try to test it in those conditions. See how it fairs in others also. I performed many sleeping bag/pad tests on the balcony of my third-floor apartment before taking that stuff into the field. Afraid the neighbors will find you odd? Well, that’s a great exercise in confidence. Read above! Fuck em!

Know your gear fits your personal needs. One example is sleeping pads. There are people in this world who can sleep soundly on a blue foam pad from Walmart. Personally, I think all of them are lying, but hey, if I could sleep on something that durable (and inexpensive) I’d look no further.

For me, a Neo Air X-lite was my choice of pad. It’s horrendously expensive, but worth every restful minute of sleep it provided me on the AT.

Shoes and packs are very personal item choices. Disregard brand names, price, or what your friend likes. Much like the Matrix, you cannot be told what the best choice is. You have to feel it for yourself.

Also, don’t underestimate the importance of quality, reliable clothing. Take the time to do some research. Thankfully, you don’t need a lot of clothes out there, which is why care in choosing them is important.

“But you didn’t tell me what to buy?!”

No! That was my intention! Do your own research and remember that the gear between your ears is all that matters. Just don’t stress about it too much.

I will be posting some reviews of how my stuff fared, things I changed, etc. On the whole of difficulties faced during a thru-hike however, I found my load-out to be a fairly negligible part of the equation. Day to day budgeting, and managing your mental needs are far more important in the grand scheme of things.

In the meantime, you can learn a lot from these guys:

Ryan Grayson: http://ryangrayson.blogspot.com/p/advice.html

Seven: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DV4lmQU2zyQ

Andrew Skurka: andrewskurka.com/section/how-to/gear-and-supplies

 

I have many videos that were never uploaded while I was on the trail.  I’m going to post them up now that I have beautiful, unlimited wifi!

How to become a human salt-lick:

 

The small shifty-eyed one on the right kept trying to chew on my shorts, hence the sudden phobia of having my clothes eaten…  My friend Shortcut actually got nipped by one of these guys.

It was one of the most fun days I had on the AT.

Vermont had some incredible fungus.

AT Symbol on top of Bromley

Bromley!

When bored hikers find incomplete signage.

Oh there’s water here?  Oh I haven’t had breakfast yet?  This is how you turn the trail into a picnic table.

 

Only in Vermont will I drink lake water.

 

The most sketchy bridge on trail.

The view though.

My home for 4.5 months.  I wouldn’t trade it!

Composed shot.  I choked up a bit after this.

I bought one of these “Buff” things, pretty handy, makes me look like a pirate.

Post-hike body and beard.  Now to rebuild my upper-body…

I love Vermont!