Monday, June 29, 2015

A Revival Of Sorts

They say that home is where the heart is, and I received a much needed boost of morale and motivation as I crossed into my home state of New Jersey. The notoriously jagged and unstable rocks were over (many thru-hikers assumed that the rocks would be just as bad in Jersey, but I assured them that they were in for a much more enjoyable time), I was in familiar territory, and I would soon be meeting up with friends and family to catch up and tell about my adventures.

Before saying farewell to my aunt from Allentown, PA and slackpacking up the steep pile of boulders called the Superfund Site, we went to the Palmerton Hotel for all-you-can-eat wings. Going up the superfund was superfun (I'm probably the thousandth thru-hiker to crack that joke, but a comedian such as myself has to steal jokes sometimes), but I later could feel the wings in my stomach sitting there like one of the many boulders. And the fact that synthesizing protein apparently takes more water than usual (which I found out after carefully gauging how much water I'd need for my slackpack) left me very thirsty at the reuniting of me and my pack. The next day, I headed into the town of Delaware Water Gap, PA where we celebrated the end of "Rocksylvania" and struggled to sleep in a hot but very convenient hostel at Church Of The Mountain. The following day, I crossed into Jersey cheering on the walkway adjacent to I-80 like a maniac and enjoyed open ridgelines and wild blueberries.

Slackpacking two times more, cheering on Scott Jurek as he breezed on by (a world-class ultra runner currently attempting to break the speed record for completing the AT), and getting caught in a torrential but exciting storm cell highlighted my time hiking near home in NJ and NY. As New York progressed and gave way to Connecticut though, many hikers and I noticed that the terrain became abruptly steep (often requiring scrambling with the hands) and littered with roots. Views also became more sparse, and I began to notice that all of the trail magic coolers left at road crossings were empty, making for a disheartening sight. What I attributed to bad luck became solved when I caught up to a hiker named Hawkeye, who constantly begs other hikers for food and money (all the while having plenty of money to somehow sustain his alcoholism) and has been known to steal food and treats meant for sharing. Now I don't usually like to give a negative shout out to a current thru-hiker, but as I've said many times before, the Appalachian Trail is a community, and rules of etiquette must be followed. It was disappointing to have this happen, but I hope that he learns his lesson.

Besides never receiving the moral boost that I thought I'd get from trail magic coolers, the steep terrain, and lack of views, rain had come recently. The rain doesn't always bother me, but with other factors involved, it can be a real bummer on a thru-hike. And all of these factors piling up honestly made me want to call it quits, which was a first for me. I almost felt guilty, because I have made it through lots of other storms, braved the rocks of Pennsylvania, and sweated and swatted my way through hot and buggy days. But this was the first time that getting up in the morning and bracing myself to hike felt like a chore, and I desperately hoped for the sake of my hike that at least one of the negative factors would disappear.

Sure enough though, another boost of morale came as I stumbled across a hiker feed put on by ALDHA (the Appalachian Long Distance Hiker's Association) later on in Connecticut, and I reunited with familiar faces that I thought I'd never see again. Also, earlier today, I crossed into Massachusetts, where I was greeted by awesome views and scenery reminiscent of the Adirondacks. For me, this was a sign that things are only going to get better, and I had a sort or revival that very much saved my thru-hike. I am currently in the town of Great Barrington, MA and am about to explore the town. I'm excited for 4th of July and the rest of Massachusetts!

Saturday, June 13, 2015

Link for my Paterson fundraiser

So I realized that people without facebook may want to donate to Paterson, so here's the link. Give as you feel led: http://www.gofundme.com/n6fotk

The Land In Between

Since I last left you all, I have finished the last 50 miles of Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, and most of Pennsylvania. To put it simply, the last of Virginia was up and down, West Virginia was historical, Maryland was wet, and Pennsylvania has been the land in between. I call it that because some guy who made the trail famous but didn't even finish half of it (In case you're wondering, it's the author of "A Walk In The Woods" Bill Bryson; many thru-hikers are coincidentally annoyed by this fact) described Pennsylvania as "a connection between the South and the North." Despite the man's lack of genuineness when it comes to thru-hiking, I must agree that Pennsylvania's terrain has been particularly unforgiving and the state has earned a reputation as one to buckle down and get through. Not to say there aren't any rewarding parts, but I have found it akin to taking the SAT's: an essential step to achieving a goal, but definitely not an enjoyable one.

Right after Front Royal, VA, I hit a 13 mile stretch of abrupt ups and downs aptly named the rollercoaster. Though each hill only had an elevation gain and loss of less than 500 feet, the fatigue of constantly ascending and descending made this one of the most challenging parts of the trail so far. The sweat coming off my face literally resembled waterfalls, as I constantly wiped my face just to be able to see and breathe. I'm pretty sure I went through 5 liters of water that day. Thankfully, I was able to wash off and unwind at Bear's Den Hostel, which offered a hiker special of a bunk, load of laundry, pizza, and pint of ice cream for very cheap. We spent that evening trying to replenish lost calories and watch old trail documentaries featuring hikers with very outdated gear. It made me think how much harder climbing the rollercoaster must've been with heavier gear and how grateful I am for the companies who make my lightweight gear.

The next day, I made my way to Harper's Ferry, where the Appalachian Trail Conference headquarters is located. They have a small museum and bookstore, along with the draw that is the scrapbook of all thru-hikers each year who stop by to get their picture taken at the psychological halfway point. Because I underestimated how much time it would take for me to get there before they closed, I found myself hurrying like a stressed out guy in the real world. I ended up going so fast that I accidentally missed where the trail went straight after the bridge crossing the Shenandoah River and instead took a path straight to the historic downtown (a side-trail leading to the headquarters can be found on the AT before that). I saw that something wasn't right when I came across historic buildings and a National Park Service info building, and by that time I had lost all hope of making the headquarters on time due to overshooting it. Thankfully though, a ranger was able to give me a ride up with 15 minutes to spare, and I took my ceremonial picture posing with the ukulele.

Because that particular evening posed a threat of thunderstorms, I wanted to find a place that offered work-for-stay rather than camp outside of town like I originally planned. I came across Stony Brook Farms in my AT guide and decided to give it a try. I got taken over to what turned out to be a Christian commune by the name of Twelve Tribes, where everybody either did farm work or made baked goods for the general store nearby. Everyone wore Mennonite-style clothing and had an abnormally patient and welcoming demeanor. There were two thru-hikers I met who came in to do work-for-stay just like I did, and when I learned that that was two weeks ago, I made sure to stand my ground and make it clear that I had to leave by late the next morning. Long story short, I met wonderful people, stayed out the rain (that definitely came down), and helped out on the farm by pulling weeds from their beet field.

From there, I headed 18 miles into Maryland where I set my tent up and met my aunt for dinner, which was nice (also because details regarding the trail that have become mundane to us thru-hikers become very interesting to someone not affiliated whom I can share them with). However, it started to rain during dinner, and I came back to my tent later that night with a puddle of water gathered on the floor. After a wet night, I was greeted by an even wetter morning, where drudgingly packed up my waterlogged sleeping bag and tent and headed to the next shelter to forget the day's existence. The next day, however, proved to be good cruising weather (perfect temperature, no harsh sunlight, no bugs), and I regained my pace by doing 30 miles into Pennsylvania.

During my second day in PA, I took part in a thru-hiker tradition called the "Half Gallon Challenge", where one devours a whole half gallon of ice cream from the general store at Pine Grove Furnace State Park. It was a difficult challenge that definitely whetted my appetite for ice cream for quite some time. The next day, I headed into the town of Boiling Springs, where I reunited with a group of people I hiked with for a while earlier named Team Vortex (called so because they "vortex" each other into staying in town longer due to peer pressure). While they got a traditionally late start in town, I decided to slackpack to the next town called Duncannon with the help of Trail Angel Mary, who had a very interesting life story and who gave her heart and soul to making the hiker community a better place. In exchange, I housesat for her while she went east for a pool tournament, and I got to wait for Team Vortex to catch up. The next day, we had plans to head out, but we heard that a severe thunderstorm was supposed to come through, so we decided to wait it out at a house owned by an older couple who caters to thru-hikers. We spent the evening playing our favorite card game called gumball, and they let us stay in the upper level of their garage, which we were very grateful for.

Right after Duncannon is where the rocks of PA started to become very annoying and unforgiving. Not only did they force our feet into weird angles, but some were sharp against our already tender feet and others were unstable, causing us to almost lose our balance on each and every step. The heat and humidity during the last couple of days had also been above average, putting us in a cloud of delirium regardless of our water intake. And on top of all that, a certain kind of aggressive, persistent bug became part of our lives, constantly threatening to fly into our eyes and ears. Taking into account our foot pain, bug bites, and heat chafing, I honestly can't remember a time in the past couple of days where I wasn't in pain. I feel like PA has taught me an important lesson--that despite my feeling strong and unstoppable, I have a limit that I'll eventually hit and will simply have to deal with. All of these recent factors made hiking very hard through eastern PA, and it would easily be the worst part of my trip so far--if it weren't for the trail magic. That's right, I've found the trail magic in this area to be extraordinary with their friendliness and selection of items. It's almost like people from eastern PA are trying to make up for a bad reputation or something....

On the bright side, I only have two days left until I enter New Jersey, which I'm very excited about. I'm now spending the night with an aunt in Allentown, PA, and will be enjoying some all-you-can-eat wings tomorrow before hitting trail. I love experiencing new places and things, but I'm definitely looking forward to the familiarity of Jersey.