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!