Katahdin

Katahdin means "greatest mountain" in its original translation, and I have to say it was also our best climb. I thought for sure that when the day came for us to climb our last mountain we would be running on adrenaline and not really feel the pain. Yeahhhh...not so much. It was still a hard climb, but nothing like the 4,000-ft. torture I expected. Here are the views we had on the way up, feeling more like we were in a plane above the clouds than hikers on the ground.

Party time at the top.

That's Brahma, Hoot, Worm, Borders, Sundance, Just Mike and Gonzo.

Blaze. Broken finger guy. Lyme Menengitis man. Dude with the PIC line, whatever you want to call him. He wept when he reached the sign because of all the trials he faced on the trail, inside and out. We were so happy for him! I think we were more excited to see Blaze summit than to summit ourselves!


Brahma getting blown away by the wind. Hee hee.

A huge gang of thru-hikers went up the mountain on the same day. It was so cool to be surrounded by friends on the last and best day of the trail.

Just Mike, backdropped by the autumn foliage, ponds and fog.


Now everyone wants to know how was the trail? Was it the best thing ever? Was it fun? Are you dreading getting a boring job? Would we do it again? Are we having a hard time adjusting to real life? I would say, in response, the trail was hard. There were fun patches but it was not the best time of my life (at least it better not be). The idea of getting up, putting on a different set of clean, warm, dry clothes each day, drinking coffee with cream and sugar, listening to music on my way to work, and having a real toilet to visit all day long as much as I want does not seem boring. It sounds wonderful. I'm glad it's over, I'm glad we did it, and I would never do it again.

And no, no not really having any serious integration problems. Of course there are things I could do without - like all-the-time-everywhere politics, the sound of a phone ringing ringing ringing, and getting gas. But I have no problem enjoying my bed and cold orange juice and tumble dryers. Dustan still adores his motorcycle and crunchy salads and likes to use a chainsaw as much as he can. We are pursuing the job search, and we're not bummed out about it. I think it's time we get back into the groove of making money, paying bills, painting bedrooms, having people over for dinner. In the meantime we are enjoying being home with mom, drinking coffee on the front porch every morning. Here's what we wake up to back at Hidden Valley:




This place is rapturous as Katahdin.

The 100-mile wilderness

Last night I picked up an issue of Backpacker magazine that was sent to the house. An article claiming to make your hike easier gave 3 tips for alleviating stress on one's body when hiking downhill, which "can be very difficult with a heavy pack on steep terrain for extended periods of time." Those were 3 good tips. I told Dustan why didn't I read that article before I walked 2,000 miles? Coulda helped.

Now the closest I get to the Appalachian Trail is skimming an article in a magazine, or reading over newspaper clippings Mamaw has saved for me. Or stepping a few paces into the woods to call my cat. Yesterday I dismantled our gear and gave everything one last good scrub, hung it all on the line and watched the sun glare on it until it stopped dripping. On the trail it was impossible to dry anything. If the sun was there, the time wasn't. And if we had the time, it was raining. I retrieved our backpacks, now dry as a bone, and was pleased to find they passed my scrutinizing sniff-test with flying colors. Our backpacks are clean. Dustan's beard is gone. My toenails are red. The trail is over.

Even so, I didn't want to end this blog without a few more tributes to the AT. The 100-mile wilderness turned out to be, along with some hem-hawing, pretty mystical and magical. It took us awhile to see the beauty of Maine, but after she dried up and smiled, we were delighted by the ponds, the craggy summits, a tiny frog, carpets of crimson leaves, eerily quiet forests due to the soft, sound-absorbing moss. The trail planked over bogs and wound around boulders and disappeared into rivers we had to ford.

Here's the last thing I saw on pavement:

And this was our final hitch. I'm smiling, but it was scary. He had a family in that cab with him but he still went really fast in the rain.

We entered the wilderness with about 13 pounds of food in our packs, ready for as many as 7 days without the chance of resupplying. That's a lot of mac n' cheese.


Hikers pass hikers on the trail all the time, usually every day. It was no surprise that we continued to meet sectioners and day hikers even in the 100-mile wilderness because it's a beautiful, popular place to hike. What I came to learn about other people on the trail is this: you never know what you're gonna get. I'm not talking safe or unsafe, more along the lines of crazy or sane, experienced or Walmart boots, haughty or down-to-earth, curt or chatty, couch potato or fitness trainer, old or young, dog or no dog, cologne or patchouli, these are the things that you inevitably notice. One couple stopped us in Connecticut and learned we were thru-hiking. I'll never forget them because the man, with his Gandalf walking staff, sized us up real good and said, "I... don't think you're gonna make it." Gee, we're not? Then would you mind giving us a ride into town? Because we should prolly just stop trying now.

Another guy met us coming down the trail somewhere in New England and made some small talk. Then he kinda locked his gaze and said, "Well, it's a good thing you like living in the woods. Because our economy is tanking. We're probably going to attack Russia and it's a scary world now. You don't see the news do ya? I'm telling you, it's all going to hell. Well. Good to talking yous. Happy trails." Thanks. Happy trails to you too.

But the best were these guys. The most inspiring, interesting and baffling people we met on the whole trail came in the 100-mile wilderness.

We're walking along in the 100-mile wilderness and catch up to a guy and three little chipmunks wearing tiny boots and HUGE backpacks. We introduced ourselves and Dustan immediately thought someone had kidnapped 3 boys so he politely asked to take their picture, thinking later he would be releasing the photograph to park rangers. But we ran into them that night as we were all chilling at the shelter. It was dark, raining and in order to reach the shelter you had to cross a large stream, almost hidden by a maze of slick rocks and tangled roots. We see 1 tall and 3 tiny headlamps bobbing in the darkness and someone says, "Who is night hiking in this weather, over that river??" Sure enough, here come the chipmunks, and they like to night hike they tell us. They are hiking with their dad, Maniac. Maniac is a celebrity on the trail because in the 80's he thru-hiked in 55 days and set a bunch of records, ruined his body for little while and released what he calls "too much testosterone." Now he is a dad but that hasn't slowed him down much. The youngest, 6 years old, tells us that when he turned four he was hiking from Springer to Fontana. So you were three when you started? Yes, he grins proudly through his missing teeth, in the winter. These kids made us feel like a bunch of pansies. They didn't complain, they didn't interrupt, they didn't fight, they didn't whine and they adored their dad. Who wouldn't? But still, a three year old? We were all totally inspired. Pretty much I'm taking my kids hiking while they're still in diapers. Oh, except that, I'm never going to hike again.

Here's me, fording a river.

Teeeny, tiny snapping turtle.

Hiding frog, the size of my thumbnail.

Maine forest.

Our last mile-marker on the trail, made out of moose poop.

Hmmm...somewhere, not sure where. But a great view!
We got our first view of Katahdin at this pond in the wilderness. But look at Longshot's, his is so much better.

One of the many board walks across one of the many bogs.

And this is us, pictured on our last day of backpacking. So hard to believe! All those miles, all those times I unbuckled that funky waistbelt, rummaged for toilet paper and a trowel or a map or my sunglasses or a Milky Way. All those times of hoisting that pack up, my sweat-soaked shirt now icy cold pressing against my back, making me dream of jacuzzis and cheesecake. All those moments of first drops of rain, fishing that pack cover out and readjusting in a fury. And now, here we stand backdropped back Big Niagara Falls with our fingers locked and our smiles relieved, less than 4 miles from the end of the wilderness and less than 10 miles from Katahdin, the realization of our dream. Even though at this point our clothes were worse than wet dog and the ammonia smell still clung to our socks and the rain was only coming down harder. The trail really didn't let us off easy.

We made it!

Well, it's done. We walked however many crazy miles we walked and we're in the middle of a roadtrip home. Just wanted to make it official on the blog to let everyone know - I'll be back later to post pictures of the 100-mile wilderness, more of summitting Katahdin (it was an amazing climb), and our minivan adventures as we sojourn home.

Man, driving is so much easier.

Wait for it, wait for it....

"To those who would see the Maine wilderness, tramp day by day through a succession of ever delightful forest, past lake and stream, and over mountains, we would say: Follow the Appalachian Trail across Maine. It cannot be followed on horse or awheel. Remote for detachment, narrow for chosen company, winding for leisure, lonely for contemplation, it beckons not merely north and south but upward to the body, mind and soul of man."

-Myron H. Avery, 1934

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So here we are in Monson, Maine, the last town on the trail! This is totally surreal. From here we have about 10 days left, including the 100-mile wilderness and the big climb up Katahdin (big as in 4,500 foot gain in elevation in like 4-5 miles). All in all it's 114 miles left.

We are extremely tired. Mentally, physically, totally - drained. But for all we lack in energy we match in motivation because the end is near, and all we have been walking toward for so many miles in so many months is about to become a reality.

Surprisingly our bodies are holding up really well for having hiked 2,061.7 miles. No serious foot or knee pain, and I thought at this stage in the game we would be hobbling! Aside from some toe numbness and chronic hangnails, we are feeling good and strong. What a blessing! There so many hikers that have battled Lyme's, the flu, mono, you name it.

Speaking of blessings, here are some other amazing things that have been happening:

Number one: The sun came out and decided to stay! This is my hallelujah.


Another great thing. The 2,000 mile marker. Best one yet!



Here's a third. Our most amazing campsite of the whole trail came at East Carry Pond here in Maine on a sandy beach. Dusty built a roaring fire right on the shore that we bathed by. Then we watched the moonrise.


In the morning a layer of ice had formed on our tent (it was down to 28 degrees that night) but our good friend the sun melted it off by 7am and warmed us up before we even started hiking.

Oh, but there were leeches there, and they were huge.

More gorgeousness from Maine. As you can see, we've found the mystical and the magical.

Here was another something I've been reading about and waiting for since, oh...March. Crossing the Kennebec River via ferry (canoe) because it's too dangerous to ford on foot. Here you can see our guide who manages all thru-hiker ferries coming over for us.


And here we are in life jackets getting ready to hop in a canoe. What a nice change of pace for about 3 minutes!

Love is on the trail, and I'm glad I spotted it.


Oh boy oh boy I love my junk food.

But not as much as Brahma. He loves his even more. This was the cutest. I said "Pull out your junk and show me whatcha got in your food bag." Without hesitating he proudly displayed his goods - Fritos, double time, Nutella, Poptarts, you name it. And this isn't even the half of it!

Dustan on top of Avery peak, named for Myron Avery who plowed through bureaucracy and helped make the AT a reality back in the day.

Parting shot: Nature's symmetry. An upturned shroom.


So on this Sunday night we have been watching movies and eating ice cream and Swiss cake rolls. We're saving all our chores for tomorrow - post office, grocery store, packing up and heading out. The next time I update - well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. All I know is that the end is very, very near and we couldn't be more happy, more ready, more amped! I miss my mom, my cat, Dwight Schrute - just to name a few. Thank you for all your comments and phone calls!

Much love from the Bulls.

Only 2 Weeks Left!!

Dang, that's hard to believe. As Eli said, turns out Maine is not on the dark side of the moon and the land of moose has internet after all. That's us above celebrating our fifth anniversary under a wall of deer antlers, which is fitting for this rural footpath through backwoods Maine.

We just arrived here in Stratton. I take back everything bad I've said about the hitchhiking in Maine. The first vehicle to pass us was Peter in his pickup truck who spends most of his time at sea, hauling around big weapons for the government. In his spare time he picks up thru-hikers and gives them tours of the town. Peter dumped us out at our most favorite place to be: the local diner. One cheeseburger with egg and an order of fish n' chips later, we crossed the street to the Stratton Motel where we'll be spending the afternoon mapping out our remaining days on the AT. From here to Monson, from Monson to Katahdin.

It's not uncommon for our current hiking conversations to center on days gone by since Georgia. "Remember that one shelter where we met the crazy chain-smoker?" "Remember that descent into Delaware Water Gap when we almost cried from exhaustion?" "Remember that couple we met on the trail in Connecticut that was so cool except that they looked like brother and sister?" "Remember the wind was so bad coming over Baldpate we were a little scared for our lives but felt so alive?" Ahhhh, so many memories. We're definitely not nostalgic, absolutely not trying to stretch the trail out any longer, and absolutely never undertaking this trail again - but it is kinda startling that our days of hiking are coming to an end. Almost as if we've been trudging with heads down and someone just elbowed us and said, "Look up, finish line's ahead." We're going huh? wah?

Because just as impossible as it is to imagine quitting, it's ridiculous to assume you'll really finish. Even now, with only about 13 days left, I can't wrap my head around climbing that final mountain.

I'll be back later to upload pics.

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Ok, here are some pictures of the recent days. We got a text from Blaze that said "So far neither mystical nor magical." We had to laugh, because it's just so true. It seems like once we entered Maine we have been constantly wet. It gets old! Hiking isn't so bad because you do warm up and just end up splashing and slogging through whatever the trail throws at you. It's the end-of-day setup at camp and the morning greeting that includes putting on cold, wet hiking clothes, socks and shoes from the day before. Oh well, I guess it's a little late in the game to whine. Though that does look like what Brahma is doing here:

Look at that lovely trail!
Check the water gathering on Dustan's beard. This is what happens when you hike in a cloud. It's unlike rain or fog or ...anything else really. When summits are cloudy, even the finest hairs on your face will be crystalline water.

Summiting Saddleback.

Even when the water stops coming down from above, it still comes up from below. Our first real ford.


My feet always look like this - pruny. I am so proud of these feet!

There are some living things that flourish in this environment. There's not much scale in this photo - I wish you could see how fat this guy was, and big!

Rangeley, Maine and 220 miles left

So it turns out Maine is not so out-of-the-loop as I'd figured as I've been able to update twice now! Here we are in the little, charming, hard-to-hitch-into town of Rangeley where the BMC Diner makes some mean homefries and serves the coffee in huge pottery mugs. So far me likey.

Things are looking up. The rain has gone (supposed to come again tonight but we don't care cause we'll be in a real bed) and the trail through Maine sure is beautiful. Lots of ponds and sunsets, no more moose (yet), but lots of good friends on the trail. It turns out everyone has experienced the blues to some degree because after the Whites the difficulty of the trail really didn't relent. Plus the roots, rocks, rain and muddy bog crossings can really take a toll mentally. Check out Blaze's site for another slant on this. My shiny new pair of La Sportiva's are poor sad slaves to the mud now, and have caused me some raw spots, but overall I would say our spirits are up. Even more encouraging than the recent sunny skies and serene ponds is the fact that the end is really in sight!

We only have a few trail towns left. After this we'll hit Stratton, probably in about 2-3 days, then we'll have about a week to Monson and then a week from there to Katahdin. We are planning to rent a car in Bangor and take our time getting home via roadtrip. That should put us back in "real life" around October 5th or beyond.

Last thing - check out Gonzo's blog to see some amazing pictures of the Appalachian Trail. You'll find me and Brahma in some of them.

Hmm, so far I disagree. We made it to Maine. Woo.Hoo. Crossing in to the final state was easily the worst day on the trail so far. We fought, I fell, it rained, I cried, and then - we crossed into Maine. Dustan said, "Do you want your picture by the sign?" I shrugged and said, "What's the point?" Sooo, no picture. Since we've been here, it's been rainy, raining, or about to rain, foggy, drippy, lame, cloudy - not the way life should be. Don't get me wrong, it's gorgeous, we just can't really see it from under the hood of our rain jackets. Both of us are just beginning to feel over it. The chills and sweat and constant workout are starting to really wear us down. Pulling ourselves out of each trail town gets harder and harder. I think that's natural, though.

I remember back when I was going to graduate high school, I started feeling really ancy and beyond bored when my guidance counselor said to mom, "That's the way she should feel, she's almost done." These words have stuck with me for life. Any time I'm nearing the end of a big season and I get really impatient, I think, This is okay. It's almost time! And that makes me feel a little better. (Thanks, Debi Campbell).

The climbs haven't relented at all after the Whites and the infamous Mahoosuc Notch. The Notch is regarded as the toughest mile on the AT, and it's basically a long stretch of bouldering up, around, over, and under a bunch of house-sized rocks. Nothing really dangerous, just kinda nerve-wracking and time-consuming. Many times we had to take our packs off to squeeze between rocks. None of Dust, since he had the camera.

Also - we crossed the 1900 mile mark! That was cool.

Tortellini over a campfire.

Me, not ready to crawl out of my sleeping bag. We usually always tent because it's warmer, more comfy and just our "system," but on this rainy night we opted to sleep in the shelter with about 13 other people. Wet boots, balled-up socks, funky foot-marinated sleeping bags unfurling in every direction. Smelled delicious.

We are currently in Andover, Maine and man, did it feel great to get here. We took hot showers and then took a walk down to the corner diner. I would have been happy to just sit and read the menu all day long. Dough boys, egg salad sandies, calzones, bacon cheeseburgers, buffalo wings, mmmmm. Tomorrow we'll hit up the diner for breakfast and then get back on the trail to the next town, Rangeley, where we'll celebrate our fifth anniversary! The weather says the sun should visit us again and the news says Barak Obama is speaking at my high school. Ok - in fact - there he is right now on national TV in the gymnasium where Mrs. Adams made me dress out just to play badminton. Am I dreaming?

Last Post Office Stop

Post Office
Monson, Maine 04464
Please Hold for AT Thru-hiker

We will stop at this PO before entering the "100-mile wilderness" and will have 114 miles left of our journey when we reach Monson.

The Whites

Yay! We have just finished traversing the dreaded White Mountains of New Hampshire. We have been fearing these climbs since Georgia where every experienced hiker likes to say "You think that was bad, just wait til you get to the Whites." Well, the Whites have come and gone, we are still alive, but boy are our knees feeling it! (Fortunately our hotel here in Gorham, NH has a jacuzzi and an ice machine). Overall, the Whites were amazing and I'll just plop a bunch of pictures on here to prove it. Tremendous views, impossible climbs and even more impossible downhills caused our mileage to decrease significantly and we took our time to enjoy and cope with the severe elevation gain and loss. We're happy to be 1,878 miles into our journey leaving us only 297.9 miles to Katahdin. To see that number hit the "2"s is really incredible.

I want to say a word about the hut system in the Whites since it was a totally different method of shelter/food/camping for us. Huts were built as a refuge from the extreme weather throughout the White Mountains and they replace the normal shelters and campsites you find on the rest of the AT. It costs $90 for a night for a non-thru-hiker to stay at a hut and we saw large families day hiking over Labor Day weekend from hut to hut. Yes, that means a family of four is paying for a hot meal and a wooden bunk bed with cooties - no hot shower, flushing toilet, continental breakfast, deerskin rug, roaring fireplace or Swedish massage. Upwards of $360 for one night. You tell me. Lucky for us hiker trash, we have the option of doing a work-for-stay at most huts. In exchange for an hour or so of work we get to eat the leftovers and sleep on the dining room tables. As with everything on the trail, every hiker has a different experience, and we have heard some hut horror stories of hikers getting turned away late at night or scrubbing the gunk off the bottom of the dining tables for a tiny bowl of rice in exchange (sound a bit like the caste system?) but Brahma and I have a good report of the huts nonetheless. We ended up getting our fill of soup and bread for lunch at a hut almost every day and a few nights we timed a work-for-stay and got to get out of the weather. Ok, on to the pics. They may be out of order but I'm seriously rushing at this pay-per-minute library. And since I got literally yelled at by the Library Nazi in Dalton, MA I'm still a little touchy...

Nightly planning with maps in our cozy tent.

Brahma, me, Hoot and Sundance climbing Mount Washington. Mt. Washington is socked in with fog and clouds 55% of the time but our day was crisp, clear and craaaaaaazy windy. We were really really fortunate for beautiful weather throughout this scenic part of the trail.

On top of Mount Lafayette.

Hoot on Lafayatte.


Looking at the Franconian Ridge.

Dustan going up above treeline for the first mountain of the Whites, Mt. Moosilauke. This was our worst day of weather.

Looking at a mountain from our first hut pitstop, Lonesome Lake Hut.


I made it! To the top of some mountain, don't even know which one.

Lakes of the Clouds Hut. Gorgeous sunset, sunrise and all-the-time.

Up on the summit of Mt. Washington with Hoot, Sundance, Gonzo and Rub-a-Dub.

We're cold. And Brahma's been growing hair in all directions.

Do you spot this bad boy? Our first and only moose (so far) was a large bull with antlers like massive plates, crunching a maple tree and looking at us like So what?




We'll be in Maine in 16.5 miles and I hear the connection to the outside world in rustic Maine becomes pretty scarce, so I'm not expecting to be able to update that much. From what all the southbound thru-hikers tell us, Maine is the sublime part of hiking the trail. It's not uncommon for many Mainers to place their hand over their heart when talking about their home state. So bring it. I want crystal lakes on mountaintops, another moose, but this time raising his majestic head, grass hanging from his velvet antlers, as he wades in a pond. I want eagles at sunset and forest sprites jumping out of waterfalls, and most of all, I want a clear day on Katahdin.

Ok, just got my first warning from the library lady - that's my cue. Love to all!

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Wanted to add: I'm back to the library once more for the day. Many of you have called and asked for a post office to send a last piece of mail or care package to. I will post this at a later time when we have the last section of the trail more planned. From what we understand Maine is the most rural of all states, hard to get hitches in and out of town because there's not much traffic, the towns are small, etc. But we will definitely be stopping a few times to resupply, so I'll call sis and have her post a Maine address asap.

Also - I got new shoes today! They are so beautiful I dread messing them up in muddy Maine. Our guidebook describes Maine as being "281 miles of lakes, bogs, loons, moose, hand-over-hand climbs and a 100 mile wilderness that is neither 100 miles nor truly a wilderness. It is the most mystical, magical place on the AT and a great way to either end or begin a hike." For the AT Companion to wax all poetic with words like "mystical" and "magical" is pretty significant since it's just a dry guidebook. So yeah, we're pumped. Just so you know, the 100-mile wilderness is another one of those sections you hear about as soon as you start the trail. It's a stretch through the backcountry of Maine where resupply is scarce so you're forced to pack many days of food, and the end of the section dumps you out right at the bottom of the Big K. Woohoo!

New Hampshire Baby!

All right, so we're in our next-to-last state! Can you believe it?? We look back now at the drizzly day we straggled into Hiawasse, GA, or the rainy day we stumbled like zombies down the hill into Franklin, NC, the snow that tucked in around us as we plodded through the Smokies, the the farewell to Trail back in Fontana Dam... it all just seems so far away.

We now have only 398.5 miles to Katahdin and we've hiked 1,777.7 miles (but who's counting?). Today we arrived here in Glencliff, NH to the Hikers Welcome Hostel. Hot outdoor shower, fridge full of honor-system Mountains Dews (.75 a can) and my fave: high speed internet. Tomorrow we begin the White Mountains with the first big climb, Mount Moosilauke (moose-uh-lock) at 3,500 feet. Dang! That's a LOT of hard climbing. The White Mountain range stretches through New Hampshire and a bit into Maine. The Whites mark the hardest (debatable) section of the trail because of all of the peaks in elevation and the summits get above treeline. In fact, the highest wind speed on Planet Earth was measured at the top of Mt. Washington at 231 miles per hour!

I wish I had time to upload pictures but it takes awhile and many people are in line behind me for the computer. For now just wanted to give a quick update on where we are. Just an idea of the rest of the trail - we have a little over 100 miles left in New Hampshire and then 280 miles once we cross into Maine. Our finish date will probably be anywhere from September 24th to October 1st. Ok, peacing out because we are hitching 5 miles to The Green House for a buffalo chicken sandwich.

More to come!
~Sweet Potato

Can't get out of town....

We are in West Harfort, VT - just 9 miles or so from the VT-NH border. We rolled in to town last night and ended up camping in this guy Steve's yard who takes in hikers. He, his wife and his cat Bob are all super cool. To say thanks a bunch of us just pitched in at the local library and helped scrape paint, prime and shop-vac before they paint it fresh. It's after 1pm and we still have
Miles to go before we sleep.
Miles to go before we sleep.

We've had ups and downs on this trail and it feels like the muddy doldrums of Vermont have dissolved in the sunshine and many hiker reunions on the trail. We stopped in Rutland and saw Blaze again, who is doing well and back on the trail (he should pass us running any day now). Lots of other folks around us: Becca, Jogle, Spidey, NoAmp, Chuck, Naked Time, Burrass, Keychain, Zen, Hoot and Sundance, Rainman and Opop, Pixie and Holler, Chainsaw, Achilles, Swami and Darcy, Thinker (who had to scoot to Hanover for a dentist appointment today after partaking in Jogle's chewy licorice yesterday and pulling out a crown) and many more.

We have 400-something miles left to go. Dang. And Eli, to answer your question 'what's the first thing we're going to do when we get back?'
Brahma: shave.
Potato: sit and stare.

Thank you everyone for the goodies you sent to West Hartford!!! We loved going to the Post Office and getting letters and care packages. You know you are - you're awesome!

1600 something down, 500 something to go

Whew! So I just spent about an hour on Facebook. Bad idea - I will try to stick to just my blog from now on.

As you can see, our miles are clicking away. We're in Manchester Center, VT at the Green Mountain House, a wonderful hostel run by a guy named Jeff. He retired awhile back and his wife finally told him to "get a hobby." Soooo he refurbed a house next door and started a hostel. It's insanely new, clean, comfy and I can see how hikers totally vortex (i.e. end up spending way more time than they'd planned) here. It's nice because he has HD cable and all of us hikers are addicted to the Olympics. People scrawl cryptic stats in trail registers counting down Phelps' medals and the USA's domination over China (or vice versa). We watched that one US gymnast (I call her Big Neck) fall apart and it was the juicest trail news for days. "Did you see her waver off the beam?" and "Could you believe the butt plant on that floor routine??"

(btw: Pictured above is Holler and Brahma and Brahma's Beard here at Green Mountain Heaven).

Vermont is rainy. The trail is muddy. This is not a stream, it's the trail.


The days are harder and harder because we've been at this a long time and the need to drive a car and make a spreadsheet and wear mascara is increasing. I just started a load of laundry, and you know what? It was elating. I can only imagine the joy Dustan is going to get from changing the oil. When they say the AT changes your life, I think this is what it means: Starbucks! Google! Scope! Yipppeeee! Here are some more culprits of the Vermont mud.

We found the same shoe Dust wears today at an outfitter. Niiiice.

Yup, this is my foot. Note that the second toenail is indeed ready to fall off any moment, though totally unrelated to hiking. I janked my foot in a river and the toenail split from the toe. This was back in....Port Clinton, PA.

This is me on a chilly wet morning holding up my Montrails for you to see that they are soaked, muddy and I am already cold. The only reason they are not completely mud-covered is because I waded in the last stream and washed the main chunks off. You're probably sipping your first cup of coffee as you read this....

Holler fell one day as we were hiking together. He thought he would "let it dry and brush the dirt off" but we realized that was kinda funny. See, nothing dries when it's not only rainy but also humid.


I caught the last bit of sunsine before the storm gobbled up the day.

Some happy parting notes. One - even when the trail is tough, it is still a fairyland.

And two - Thinker's brother is on the trail! Welcome Tom, the geneticist.

And last, we had a party at the Goddard Shelter. Cookie Monster, NoAmp, Spidey, Thinker, Tom, Tailgate, Becca, Jogle, and a few Long Trail thru-hikers. The Long Trail is actually the oldest trail in the US, and it joins up with the AT in this portion of Vermont, but they split somewhere north of here. The AT goes into New Hampshire and then Maine, but the Long Trail keeps going north. Simply put, at this point we could walk to Canada faster than we can get to Katahdin.

Next Mail Drop Locale

Hold for AT thru hikers:
B&D Balkcom
West Hartford, VT 05084

1,500 miles and counting...

We're in Dalton, Massachusetts! I keep waiting for all of the hiker-friendly trail towns to disappear but they just keep getting better and better! We are staying at Tom Levardi's house here on Depot Street. It goes something like this: hiker walks up off the street smelling like sour socks and butt funk. Tom offers hot shower. We leave our packs on the porch, get all clean, and Tom drives us to the all-you-can-eat Old Country Buffet and then to the movies (my turn to see The Dark Knight). We come home, crash out all over his house. Wake up and ride bikes to the laundrymat, Duff's Deli for breakfast and then here, the library. Tom has been hosting hikers like this for over 30 years. You can't even imagine what a round-the-clock committment this is, because hikers straggle up to the porch at every hour. Tom is constantly doing loads of towels and sheets, giving rides to dinner, shuttling for slackpacks - it's really really really incredible. He's basically at our beck and call and I'm always amazed at how selfless these full-time trail angels are. What would all us hiker trash do without them!?

The hiking has gotten progressively harder the past weeks because 1) we're done with rocky flatness and back to straight up and down 2) it rains a lot more causing rocks to be slippery and 3) MUD. Mass is all mud (and we hear Vermont is even muddier) which translates to lots of gingerly placing one's shoe from rock to root, trying not to get totally slogged. Sometimes you're successful but most times you roll up to camp with 8 extra pounds of mud on the bottom of each shoe. We were excited to pass the 1,500 mile mark and as you can see in the photo, I got another cut on my face just above my eyebrow. Slipped on a wet rock (rolling eyes) and hit my head on my trekking pole which had sunk into the ground. Dustan is an official pro at butterflying head wounds, and it is healing up nicely. No worries!

We've seen some beautiful sights lately - Sages Ravine was a gorgeous babbling brook slicing through old forest right on the Connecticut-Massachusetts state line. Also Bear Mountain in CT, Race Mountain in MA, and two really nice beaver dams on serene swampy ponds (doesn't sound serene, but with the rushes and the stark trees jutting up and the reflection of the sky, they are).

Our hiking routine has been pretty solid. We wake up and get going around 7:00-8:30, take a lunch break long enough to peel off our socks n' shoes and dry out the feet (sun willing) and arrive at camp anywhere between 6:30 and 8:00. Breakfast is a no-brainer now: Pop tarts. Coffee and oatmeal take too long, but we may go back to cooking in the morning as the cool weather returns (notice I refuse to use the word 'cold'). Lunches are our best meal. Brahma eats brie or Swiss with apple on a bagel and I have cheddar and tomato on bread. My lunch staple is anything Cheetos. Cheetos Puffs, Paws, All-Natural white puffs, or just the regular misshapen crunchies. And for dinner we eat the same mac n' cheese, mashed potatoes and brown gravy, occasional spaghetti, etc. Snack favorites are yogurt-covered pretzels, Little Debbie cakes, Mounds, Snickers, Kit Kats... and yup, still losing weight! :) Don't worry Dawn, we take a big handful of all those vitamins you loaded us down with every day so we're not getting scurvy or osteoporosis.

We were ecstatic to arrive in Salisbury, CT and find lots of love waiting for us at the post office. Thank you so much for the letters everyone - we feel so blessed to have good friends. Right up there with JJ's sweet care packages came one from Carl and Scottie, our Waynesboro hookup. I must say the best treat was the mini bottle of Coconut Lime Verbena body lotion. I almost started doing a jig right in front of the posh little Eliza Peet Gallery! Someone asked this lady on the street "Is there a pharmacy in this town?" and she says "Our village has an apothecary." Give me a breeeeeaaak. Although I did love LaBonne's Epicure (translation: the grocery store) because they had a mean deli/bakery and I packed out fried chicken, canolis, bananas and GrapeAde for dinner.

We expect to be in Vermont within the week. (Whoohoo!!) Our friend Blaze is there and you can read all about his trail drama here, we're excited to see him even under the crappy circumstances. Lately we've been hiking on and off with Holler, Keychain (his blog here) and Vachon.

Here's a parting shot of Dustan on Bear Mountain.

Hikers Hit the City

No, you haven't stumbled upon the wrong blog. It's just that now.... you find us backpack-less in Times Square zipping about via taxi, train and subway! One minute we are walking in the woods, the next we are shouting to hear ourselves talk. That's just the culture of the trail.

New York City may mean hubbub, high prices and crazy drivers, but it also means really, really good food! Observe:


Jack Johnson's "banana pancakes."



Look familiar? This is the diner in Seinfeld where Jerry, Elaine, George and Kramer always eat. This is for you Mom. I had a really good cheeseburger because the "Big Salad" wasn't really calling my name.

Jessi Greer and her boyfriend Mike have so graciously hosted us in the city this weekend and it has been a huge blessing. Thanks guys! Here's Jess overlooking the East River not far from her apartment.

Sidewalk art.

A smooch before the subway. Man, all the time, more than ever, I think, "Thank you God for giving us each other!" Even though we have had our share of really intense fights and conflicts on the trail, we constantly rediscover what it means to be best friends. (Cue segue into me giving major kudos to Dustan for all those times he has mildly annoyed me by striking up yet another conversation with a hostess, cashier, dude pumping gas, etc. etc.)
Because the most exciting thing happened right at the beginning of our attempt to get into NYC. We crossed the Hudson River, caught a hitch into Peekskill, hopped on a train and as we get our seats Dust says, "I think I saw the guy up there from Project Runway. I'm not joking." So I'm like, amped and I make him go up and see and sure enoooooouuuuugh:

AHHHHHHhhhhhhh!!!! There he is folks: Daniel Vosovic. Thank you Dust for being extremely outgoing. And yes, I realize you can only appreciate this if you know Project Runway, one of the all-time best Emmy-award winning reality shows on TV. I immediately called my sister.

And then we settled back to enjoy the view of the Hudson all the way into the city, where we met up with Jess and Mike in Grand Central Station. What a joy ride hiking the trail is turning out to be!

Ok, here are a few parting shots since I'm playing catch-up.

Me hiking in Maryland.

Produce in the pack is always a sign of leaving town.

Blackberries by day...

....blackberry pancakes by night.


Brahma's Mama hiked with us for 3 days! Here she is toughing it out.

These are rocks we climbed up coming out of Lehigh Gap - note how small the houses are way down below.
Self portraits in a swimming hole.


Frog on a log.

Dustan enjoying a hitch with Mama Maple (Canadian) in the background.

I liked that hitch too because it had just started to rain.

Crossing into New York
!
Our wonderful tent overlooking New York from Prospect Rock. Campsites like these are wonderful gems that make the trail so grand. When the sun went down we could see the Empire State Building and the Brooklyn Bridge on the horizon. When I peeled back the rainfly in the morning we were greeted by the pulsing glow of sunrise.

Tomorrow we will hop back on the trail on the other side of the Hudson River where we left off and we'll have about 3 hiking days left in NY. After that we'll be in Connecticut. Can you believe it??

I just want to say thanks again for all of the comments, voicemails, emails and real mail that we have received from family and friends. Glad to know we haven't totally fallen off the radar! We are hoping to finish the trail sometime between mid to end of September. Until then, we'll keep you posted on all of the remaining adventures from here to Maine!

Helloooooo from Unionville, NY!

I have not been online since Linden, VA. Talk about a long stretch with no internet - even more challenging has been the huge stretches between water sources!

We are now at mile marker 1,333. That number is cool but what's even better is that Katahdin is only 843 miles away. We say that to each other alllll the time, ever since the countdown started that our destination is less than 1,000 miles away. 843? We so got that.

Right now we're at the mayor's house. The actual mayor of Unionville takes hikers in, does their laundry, feeds them dinner and breakfast, gives them a place to sleep, takes them all over the place...it's really nuts. His wife had MS for 20 years, was in a wheelchair for 15 years and after she passed away about 5 years ago. Since then, he's blown open the doors to his home to "keep him young." That means from about March to about October he is a full-time host. It would wear me out, but he loves it. He has 2 friends here who help him. One guy used to be the maitre'd at Grossinger's - he's the one who made us breakfast and dinner. :) Nice.

One thing to mention - Unionville is in NY but only because we temporarily jumped the border. We're still in New Jersey but in the next 2 days we will be in New York for good. (Then Connecticut, then Mass, then Vermont, then New Hampshire, then Maine). We will soon begin our deli-to-deli hop. Heck, we may even bus into NYC and see The Lion King on Broadway. That's kinda a joke, kinda an option....

What else. Ok, we reunited with The Thinker after being temporarily separated when I got a funk for 2 days. So, the divorce is not final. We caught up when HE got Big D and spent some time on the mend. Now we're hiking with a big fun group. On and off: Thinker, Cayenne, Tailgate, Vachon, Spidey, No-Amp, Green T and Feral. We LOVED Stroudsburg, PA. I saw Mamma Mia! and Dust saw The Dark Knight. It's nice to dip in and out of civilization periodically!

Dustan's mom (Brahma's Mama) came to hike with us for 3 days. What an adventure! I have tons of pics but of course I have to hurry it up because the mayor's house is pretty packed and some people are a-d-d-i-c-t-e-d to Facebook.

Last thing - Longshot is not hiking with us anymore, he's super speedy. But I meant to link to his blog - http://ga2me.blogspot.com so you can follow him.

If you want to send mail, send to

D/B Balkcom
Post Office
Salisbury, CT 06068
Hold for AT thru-hiker

Thanks for all of the comments! It's great to hear from everyone.

Shenandoahs and Shenanigans

::Shenandoahs::

Farewell to the Shenandoah National Park! We are happy and sad. Happy because we're getting closer and closer to Harpers Ferry, WV which is just 3 hiking days away. Happy because Harpers Ferry is known as the "psychological halfway point" because it takes you out of the 547-mile stretch through Virginia and puts you at mile marker 1,000. Amazing! Yeehaw!! But sad because the Shenandoahs will be remembered for the views, the mild hiking and the blackberry milkshakes.


Yesterday Brahma, Thinker, Longshot and I left the park together. (Longshot is an old friend on the trail but we reunited with him in the last 100 miles or so. He is from Vermont and reminds me of Glen Hansard. When we saw him again he had traded in his shorts for a hiking kilt and sprouted a red beard). It took us about 5 days to get through the Shennies and overall it was a great experience. Not only did we get to hike with Buck and Fleur the Canadians, the terrain was more moderate than other parts of the trail and while there were still climbs, they were more graded and shorter. This allowed us to do some big mileage days. Every 20 miles or so there were "waysides" where tourists (and hungry hikers) can buy $18 cheeseburgers and the Famous Shenandoah Blackberry Milkshake, which was nothing to scoff at. The AT also parallels the gorgeous Skyline Drive so every now and then we would hop out and get to walk on the road a little bit. Here are some pics from the Shenandoahs.


This is Longshot, Thinker, Dusty, Fleur and Buck on one of the many stone walls that borders Skyline Drive.

Wall walking.
A reflecting pool on top of .... one of the mountains. Can't remember which.

Um, or long.
Motorcycles and bears own the park. Right before we had our picture made with these bikes a bear sauntered across the road.

Our time in the Shennies was marked by sunny but cool days, mounting heat in the afternoon, a serious thunderstorm in the evening and then a drop in temp. Do you see this ominous storm? You can see exactly where the rain is coming out of the clouds above. We watched this until it got really really close. We were at an overlook on Skyline drive and suddenly the storm was upon us. So we pitched 2 tents, threw all our backpacks in one and all four of us jumped in the other until the storm passed. It was kinda exhilarating.

Waiting out the storm.


::Shenanigans::

So here we are now in the land of milk and honey where the Cherry Pepsi flows like wine and the hot water knows no bounds. My aunt JJ picked us up yesterday afternoon when we exited the park and brought us to her and Don's home here in Northern VA. We hit the post office (where I got more mail from Mamaw Owen - thanks Mamaw!) and then took a long drive on the interstate. Coming off the trail where the fastest moving thing is a white-tailed deer, an infinite number of cars whizzing by is kinda euphoric. At least Longshot thinks so, right?


Some of the luxuries in JJ-Land are good - like bacon, cotton and soda. Others are great - like the overwhelming stash of B&B Works shower gel and the internet access. Others are dizzying. Like:

And later today we hope to catch a movie in the city and eat real buttered popcorn. Oh yeah baby. We'll also have to do chores - resupply at a grocery store, maybe find an outfitter to hit up, soak our shoes in battery acid because the smell would power a small village, write thank-you notes to many of the trail angels we've met along the way, throw Don's hand-made boomerangs in the backyard, take a dip in the pool.... I hate chores.

The trail gets better all the time. It's definitely the best when the weather is very warm (in my opinion) and when you have good friends to entertain you as you hike. The hospitality factor is also incredibly motivating, as you can imagine. Laundry mats are one thing, but to crash at a home like this is such a respite from the wilderness. Thank you again to all of you who have shown us such so much support! Mary Lynn, Trena, Carl and Scottie (everyone on the trail kept asking "How did you get your name on a sign??"), and now JJ & Don.

We are sooooo super excited to be reaching the halfway point very soon. After West Virgina we'll hit Maryland for 40-something miles and then - Pennsylvania!

Last I will leave you with a smattering of pics from the past month.

Cooking dinner on my Thermarest.

Green T showing me the flea collar system (that little aqua loop on her boot is a piece of a flea collar to repel ticks). This girl is a beast. She and her boyfriend have hiked the Pacific Crest Trail.
Ahhh, an unforgettable summer meal in Waynesboro and Carl and Scottie's abode.

Stealing unpasteurized milk at Mary Lynn's dairy farm. (Pick, Thinker, Brahma).

A dairy farm at night.
Bridge jumping - I forgot to put these in the earlier post. Even though he also pulled a sweet front flip from this height, in this pic I think Dust looks like a little girl jumping rope. hee hee

I was more pleased with my form!

'Til next time!

Bridge Jumping, Slackpacking and a Warm Waynesboro Welcome

Greetings from mile marker 850! We are now in Waynesboro, VA getting ready to enter the Shenandoahs tomorrow.

Thanks to a host of trail angels the past few days have been marked with fun, efficiency and lots of relief from heat, hunger and exhaustion. Of course it began with Mary Lynn's incredible hospitality in the stretch from here back to Glasgow. Besides slumming around her amazing house eating her amazing food, she made 3 days of slackpacking possible for us.

Slack-packing. n.

1. the act of hiking without one's backpack

2. the ability to cover copious miles with ease

3. cheating

Whatever you want to call it, we basically got to get dropped off on the trail, walk for miles and miles (we did a total of 39 miles in 3 days) and then hop in a car and drive home to a shower and pot roast at the end of the day. It was really incredible.

Then we rolled in to Waynesboro and got a really cool and unexpected surprise. Our name in lights!

How cool is that? Our friends Carl and Scottie know the owners of this business right in the middle of town and they had a little marquee waiting for us!

The Magic of Magic

**Added photos to this post below.

So I know I've mentioned trail magic before but I'm not sure I've elaborated on the potent joy it brings to a thru-hiker. The last few days have brought a windfall of some serious trail magic.

Right now I'm sitting in a cool air-conditioned kitchen overlooking a 500-acre dairy farm. I kid you not. We're near Buena Vista and Glasgow but more specifically, I don't know where we are. We met this guy Vachon (means tender of cattle in French) on the trail whose wifey poo Mary Lynn has taken a bunch of us in. Vachon is further up on the trail in the Shenandoahs but we're crashed at his pad. Brahma, The Thinker, Freefall, Twinkletoes, Cookie Monster and myself. I'm getting ready to make dinner - tortellini and meat sause - but first I'm eating some of the best homemade potato salad ever and sitting here at this superb residence.

Lately Dustan and I have been hiking with a super cool guy The Thinker. Thinker is from the upper peninsula in Michigan. He is a ski instructor and he actually works on a CSA! The CSA where he works has an artisan apple cider press, a veggie operation, a chicken coop, berries, its own irrigation system, 50 shareholders and it supplies local restaurants and grocery markets with fresh food. Dude, we have tons to talk about. Thinker is awesome.

The heat is ridiculous. Sweat comes out of our pores with little to no effort and we drink water like it's our profession (well, it kinda is our profession). The swimming holes are amazing. Today we came to the James River and jumped off the bridge and lounged in the water. We popped out and found some small trail magic (Trident, a bag of Jelly Bellies, box of Krispy Kreme donuts, Swiss Cake Rolls and 5 tall cans of lukewarm Coors Light) someone had left. That's when Mary Lynn came and picked us up.

I know I'm miserably behind in photos. There are so many photos I want to share. The pic of me when I cut my face (but it's completely healed now), 2 rad butterflies, ponies, our first motel pool experience, Thinker's nosebleed and today's pictures of bridge jumping. I will try to jump back on the computer tonight after the pasta feed and upload pictures.

Just one last story of trail magic. A few days ago Thinker, Brahma and I rolled in to Catawba on the cusp of a deluge with a need for shelter and food and nothing around but a gas station. Fortunately they made burgers (and they were good) but there were no hotels, no cabs, and the nearest towns were Roanoke and Salem. So about 9 of us soggy hikers ate about all of the Little Debbie cakes we could and then decided to start making phone calls to local taxi services. We kept on coming up empty. Finally this woman steps out of her minivan and says "Excuse me, I couldn't help overhearing - are you all looking for a place to stay?" We say yes. Chaco speaks up and says "You could just take us home with you," jokingly and she stands there for a sec with hands on hips and goes "You know what, get in. That's what I'm going to do."

Two shuttles later, we are ALL at Trena's house. She has 2 older kids. She has multiple pull-out beds, a full fridge and more hospitality than she knows what to do with. We all did laundry. We all showered. We ate tons of food and went through pots (plural) of coffee. The next morning she had a dentist appointment so she left the house to us and the keys to the pick-up truck. It was insane. Trail magic.

You have about a week to get mail to this address:
The Balkcoms
Post Office
Waynesboro, VA 22980
Please hold for AT thru-hiker

**Carl and Scottie we will be in Waynesboro by the 16th but we will call you as soon as tonight.**

The next one is Linden, VA 22642.

Ok, I think that is all the time I have now. I have to chop veggies for a salad and get the pasta boiling because Mary Lynn is on her way home from picking up 2 more hikers. Dinnertime in a real house! Sleeping in a real bed! Never ever ever take these simple luxuries for granted. If you need help appreciating them, sleep in your backyard tonight and eat breakfast with the gnats in the morning.

**Photo update:

Butterflies.

Overlooking Burke's Garden, "God's thumbprint" - a verdant valley in a peculiar basin.

Wild pony in the Grayson Highlands.

Lily of the valley. This is for the Seasons gang. $8 a stem, right?

A blaze backdropped by a mountain range.

The Grayson Highlands.

Ok, this was my harsh reminder to look up more when wearing a cap. I basically smacked right into this tree, cut my face open and we kept on going.

On the mend.
Action shot.
Sweet! We found a burned piano in front of a spooky old burned hotel.

A deer in the woods that stalked us. She was so meek and sweet. She followed us .04 miles.
Reunited in Pearisburg with our friends, the Canadians Buck and Fleur.

Friends at a hiker feed: Captain, former thru-hiker, The Thinker, Last Minute, Brahma, Rabid and Pick.
Brahma in a stream. This is what you call a lunch break.

Dust caught a black snake.

Me on Dragon's Tooth. Here's the infamous Trena in her garage. Brahma, Sweet Potato, Trena, Johnny Thunder, The Thinker, her son Ian, Wack-a-pack and Chaco. Once again: uh.mazing.

The Thinker in his class "Thinker" pose on top of McAfee's Knob. Most photographed spot on the AT.

There's my tank of a husband on the same spot. Just looking at this picture causes me to wince.
I prefer the safer pose.

Once up there we realized we'd hit a milestone. 700 miles!
The pool in Daleville was our rich reward. How many times did I long to revisit this spot just hours later as we trudged up a sweltering climb, literally soaked in sweat?
Dustan's pack on the way out of town. You can always tell by the produce.

And I'm trying to air-dry my skirt and skivvies. Worked great in the heat.

History in the making. Ugh. Back to the woods.

Hikers crossing. That means keep it between the mayo and the mustard people, because you almost took my nose off. The Thinker and The Honeybee.
The butterfly and its kin, the backpack.
Ladyslipper. Another shout out to Seasons. Why it's tempting to do everything inside a tent nowadays. Why, if I were a guy, I would employ the chamber pot. Because insects are unrelenting from here on out.

Flat walking baby!
And last, one of my favorite places we've camped so far. Right in the middle of a cow pasture overlooking an amazing sunset.



Our bombproof MSR Hubba Hubba tent has taken us through every kind of weather possible and comes out on the other side with a gleaming 5-star review.

G'night!