7/4/93 – Sun.

21.9 miles today from Bobblet’s Gap Shelter to Thunder Hill Shelter.

I parted way with Gandalf today, and though I would be alone tonight, but, after I’d been here for about half an hour, a group of about ten kids (aged 15-18) and three fairly young adults. They’re all guys, and they’re from a place called “New Dominion” in Cumberland, Maryland. It sounds a lot like the place Uncle Steve used to work in Austin. They’re all troubled in some way or other, and teh program is meant to give them self-esteem, teach them how to express their feelings, and teach them how to cope with life. It’s really pretty fascinating. They have assigned duties and a lot of rules and rituals. They all have to to tuck their shirts in before they eat, for instance. Any one of the kids can call a “group meeting,” where they bring up whatever issue is bothering them, and they all discuss it. They’re having one right now, and it’s centered around one kid who apparently tends to be a quitter and who hurts a lot of people. The supervisor, who is probably in his late 20s, from Louisiana, who has a law degree and has been at New Dominion for three years (Al is his name) is really lighting into the kid (Ryan). It sounds pretty harsh, actually. I talked to Al earlier, and when I told him the A.T. is sort of my own visionquest, he said that this is the the third year of his visionquest, and he’s loving it. He plans to go into psychology, probably school, in another year or so. The kids seem pretty cool, overall. They all have input in these group meetings, and it all seems pretty valid. They talked earlier about everything from books they had read, to different “privileges” each of them had/didn’t have, to various runaway attempts that people had made. Oh, by the way, they do some sort of long distance backpacking each year somewhere (they’re going all the way from Waynesboro to Cloverdale this time). They also do a canoe trip each year. Enough on the New Dominion. Ryan is now in tears.

My left boot is continuing to give me trouble. The glue didn’t hold the sole on for more than about five steps this morning, so then I tried a heavy-duty thread/duct tape contraption that only lasted about a half a mile. So, then I broke down and hacked the toe off of one of my socks and slipped it over the toe, which lasted okay for the rest of teh day, but which won’t make it all the way to Waynesboro. I spent a good while tonight trying to bind it pretty well with string and wire. Whenever I find something that seems to work (if I can), I’ll take a picture of it. Which brings up a deeper point. Out here, a problem arises, there is the assumption, which is a reality, that it can be deal with, if not totally solved.

I learned from some southbounders that there were 4 beers in the spring here left by a weekender, which did a lot to hurry me on here. I had one when I arrived, and then the group showed up, which I mistook for a Boy Scout troop, at first. Well, Crazy Hawk and Mr. Wendal had told them about the beers, and the advisors were in a real hurry to find them and hide them (some of the kids had alcohol problems), so that was the big “Oops!” on my part. The one beer was good, though.

I miss Julie.

I actually remember that evening fairly well. The leaders had assured me that I was fine to stay in the shelter / write in my journal while they had their group meeting. Not knowing what to expect, I stayed. And, once things got kind of tense…it would have been more awkward for me to get up and leave.

7/3/93 – Sat.

With luck, this will be a long entry. There are a lot of things I want to get written.

We made it to the Best Western at U.S. 220 about 2:30 yesterday afternoon. I talked to Dad and learned of Uncle Willard’s death. I never really knew him that well, but what I did know was pretty neat. I do kind of wonder how much grief & how much relief Aunt Elsie felt. In a lot of ways it seems that she was in the same boat Gommie was in with Papa and now is in with Dee.

Julie drove down from wherever it is in Virginia her mother had moved to, so that was a pleasant surprise, although it was one more “good-bye” I had to deal with this morning. It was bad, but, since her visit was unexpected, and since she was departing almost as soon as she’d arrived, the lump in my throat and knot in my stomach did not last nearly as long as they had on previous occasions.

We’re staying at Bobblet’s Gap Shelter tonight, again just Gandalf and me. I’m pushing to get to Waynesboro Friday evening, whereas Gandal had been planning on Sunday mid-morning. So, either I will be parting company with him soor, or he will get to W-Boro earlier than he had planned. I need to get there in time to get my maildrop between 9:00 AM & 11:00 AM on Saturday. Otherwise, I will have to wait until Monday, which I don’t want to do.

I passed the 1/3-of-the-trail-completed mark today, so I’ve now hiked over 715 miles. Pat myself on the back!

I was thinking today that now might be a good time to record my daily routine. It has gradually become fairly consistent over the days on the trail, although I expect that it will continue to change over time for various reasons. What I list now is “typical,” and probably fairly consistent, but each day is different, and with each difference come slight modifications in the routine:

• 0600: Wake up, get up, put on hiking clothes, take down food bag, and begin loading pack with things used the previous evening: candle lantern, journal, data pouch.
• 0615: Dig out breakfast and eat it while: packing up sleeping bag, folding up groundcloth, doctoring hips, and putting on boots.
• 0645: Brush teeth, fill up water bottles after “cameling” as much as possible, empty water bag and put it in pack
• 0700: Hit the trail
• 0900-1000: Take first break after 2-3 hours of hiking — generally planned ahead of time to occur at a nice view or at a shelter
• 1200-1330: Eat lunch — also planned (see above) and generally near a water source so I can fill up my water bottles after eating
• Afternoon: Hike. Taking breaks as needed depending on terrain, distance to shelter, etc.
• 1600-1800: Arrive at shelter. Put out groundcloth, pad, and sleeping bag to reserve space in shelter. Get and filter water. Make and eat dinner. Brush teeth. Change into flannel boxers. hang up/air out clothes, socks, sock liners, & insoles (may have been done earlier).
• 2000-ish: Write in shelter register. Make journal entry. Read or do crossword puzzles.
• 2130-2200: Blow out candle lantern and go to sleep

And the next day, it starts all over again…

Equipment note: started to lose the toe of the sole of my left boot today. It holds itself in place pretty well, but I wouldn’t want to try to make it all the way to Waynesboro that way. I tried tacking it together with the contact cement in my repair kit, but that is more for applying patches that for bonding soles. If I can find a phone in the next few days, I’ll probably have Dad mail me some Barge Cement in W-boro or maybe just try to find a cobbler there. Am I that harsh on boots?

The walking was fairly easy today, and it was obvious that I was easily going to make it to the shelter by 4:00, so I stopped occasionally along the trail to pick blueberries & blackberries, which I put into one of my water bottles. All in all, I only collected about 3/4 cups of berries, but I used them to make a pretty tasty dessert. I kept them soaking in water and shredded some dried apples to put in the mixture. Then, I cooked the concoction for a bit, mashed some of the berries, & added some raisins and cherry Kool-Aid mix. It turned out to be really good, but I used a record amount of water for cleaning.

We ran into a homeless lady at the first shelter we came to today. As Gandalf put it, she was a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic. She went on about how she’d been run out of Georgia, ahd worked for a D.A. in Huntsville, Alabama, had had an unpleasant experience this morning with a man from Cobb County, Georgia, would show us some copies of Hustler magazine that would prover her story (which one?), and had we heard anything about Larry Flint [sic] being dead? I told her that the only prominent deaths that I had heard about of late were Conway Twitty and Fred Gwynn. Apparently, she saw some connection there, as her response was, “Yes, they get them in groups like that.” Something new every day on the ol’ A.T.!

Well, I’m going to take off on another tangent that I’ve been meaning to get written down for a while. The second night Julie stayed with me in a shelter, we somehow got started on listing the “spontaneous” things we had done since we had started dating. We wound up listing some thing that were simply memorable if not all that spontaneous. It was a lot of fun, and, for posterity’s sake I wanted to record as many as I can now remember. They will be roughly in chronological order:

• Driving out to the beach late one night when I was dog-tired but done with my work for the week
• Spring break junior year: driving cross-country, stopping at Notre Dame to see R.J., riding 4-wheelers at her Dad’s farm
• Julie with mono: me sleeping on the floor of her dorm room for several nights; me driving back and forth to Greenwich while she was there
• Summer ’92: spending every weekend together in either Boston or Greenwich; me driving to Greenwich unannounced when Julie was depressed
• Camping in North Conway, NH
• Sledding and spending the night at the Fortier’s in Conway, MA
• Spending the night at the Publick House in Sturbridge, MA, for Julie’s birthday
• Mike Dumb and me and the late night rose quest that ended in Maine lobster postcars (finals — Fall Term ’91)
• Julie flying to Texas for the weekend before I left for the A.T.
• Julie driving to Wesser, N.C., to meet me for the weekend
• Julie spending two nights on the trail with me
• “Mudding” on 4-wheelers at her Dad’s farm
• Walking Shaggy’s mom’s dog on the Esplanade

I know this is only a partial list, but I certainly have enjoyed writing what I could remember.

I had also thought I might rewrite the letter to the outdoor editor for The Beaumont Enterprise that I’d drafted earlier and write a piece about trail names (mentioned in an earlier entry), but I am about written out for the evening.

I mentioned this “spontaneity list” in an earlier journal entry. That entry hit on a Thursday (this year)…and Julie and I had a date night on Friday. As we’re both reviewing 1993, Julie brought up over dinner that our spontaneity rate has dropped considerably in the past 5 years. We agreed — kids’ll do that!

7/1/93 – Thu.

Staying at Campbell Shelter tonight with Gandalf — 16.1 miles on A.T., plus 0.5 mile “courtesy climb” to get to the trail from the shelter this morning, plus 2.0 miles round trip to Catawba, VA, for a maildrop.

It rained last night, poured about 5:30 this morning, and had dwindled to a drizzle by the time I got on the trail at 6:45, but the trees and grass were wet, and it was not long before my boots, my pack, my clothes, and my feet were wet, too. None of them really dried out all day, although the sun did eventually appear, so I had the “immersion foot” look by the time I got to the shelter tonight.

Dad sent me new shoulder straps and a new, more padded hip belt, which is pretty nice and will be even nicer when I get it adjusted properly. I am starting to dread maildrops because they add so much weight to my pack, but it only takes a couple of days to lighten that load to a more acceptable level. And I am eating well. Gandalf says I eat as well or better than anyone he has seen on the trail, and I have to agree that this is the case since Dad started making up the meals (no real surprise).

I found a patch of blueberries that were ripe today, which bodes well for the upcoming week or two.

I forgot to mention that yesterday we went by an Audie Murphy monument — apparently near to where he died in a plane crash in 1971. It was only really accessible by foot, and I liked the touch of Americana along the trail — I couldn’t help but think patriotic thoughts for a while after I passed the monument.

Gandalf and I were talking about the whole “Virginia Blues” phenomenon, and he came up with a term worth noting: “Vista Burnout.” It’s what happens when you’ve been on the trail for a while and begin to have a “ho-hum” reaction to all of the spectacular views. I have it to a degree, although Mcafee Knob, which I crossed towards the end of the day today, was quite impressive despite the heavy haze that obscured the view. I also think back to my experience in Newfound Gap in the Great Smokies. There was a whole parking log as well as a ranger on duty in the gap, primarily because it was such a magnificent overlook, and, to me, it was unquestionably “ho-hum.” If I lived in a house that was perched on top of McAfee Knob, would even that view become old and tired? Probably so. It’s really too bad that that’s a part of human nature.

I missed Julie by about 40 minutes today when I tried to call her from Catawba. The bad part is that I’d been in town for 2 hours trying to get my maildrop sorted out before I tried to call her. I’m getting a room with Gandalf tomorrow afternoon at a Best Western ($18 apiece), so I’m sure I’ll get through to her then.

By the way, a hiker named “Water Witch,” who is now only about a day ahead of me, has been making register entries that indicate she is fighting the “Virginia Blues,” too.

Bushwack (!) left a couple of register entries 3 days ago. he got off the trail in Gatlinburg, TN, and had come up to visit his sister and take his nephew on a two-day hike up McAfee Knob. he’s apparently headed back to California now.

6/30/93 – Wed.

22.4 miles on A.t. (plus 0.5 miles of side trail to the shetler) and staying at Pickle Branch Shelter with Gandalf.

Gandalf does talk! Usually, his stories and comments are interesting, but he can go on almost endlessly, which means I don’t get to read/write until later than I would like to. I do enjoy his company on the whole, though.

Comments for the day (from Gandalf quoting a comedian — Stephen Wright(?)):

“If you had everything, where would you put it all?”

“It’s a small world, but I wouldn’t want to paint it.”

I felt pretty good today overall. I saw 6 or 8 deer (including one fawn), blackberries are finally starting to ripen, and I found a couple of cherry trees that had ripe cherries. I am within shot of at least talking to Julie, and I have again begun to adjust to life on the trail without her. not to say I don’t miss her and think of her often, but I have gotten over the sight of her walking down the A.T. away from me.

Somehow, Gandalf got started talking about Scout camp (he’s an Eagle scout, a former camp counselor, and a current scoutmaster), and it is now dark, so I will end this entry soon.

There is some unidentifiable music playing way off in the distance. I heard it first, and it took Gandalf a while before he heard it, but he now has. It’s kind of an eery, wailing sort of sound, and I would probably be a bit freaked otu if I were here alone (images of people dancing around a sacrificial fire), but I am not alone. I’m glad for that.

6/29/93 – Tue.

17.9 miles to Laurel Creek Shelter — here by 4:00 with Gandalf, and we’re it so far (7:30 PM).

I need to make a correction of last night’s entry. Captain & Jumpy did show up…at 10:30! They apparently did not get out of Pearisburg until 1:00 in the afternoon (reason unknown) and were not in a good mood. They slept through both of their 6:30 alarms and were still sleeping when I headed out, so I have yet to actually meet them. They may show up yet…

I saw a buck & a doe that were even more tame that the ones I saw yesterday. The buck was less than 20′ from me when I walked by, and the doe was less than 15′! And they didn’t move! I tried to make some kind of clucking, comforting noise as I walked by, but I don’t think that had much to do with their not moving. Dr. Doolittle, maybe, but not plain old Gilligan.

I talked to Gandalf (real name: Richard Sturgeon) about teaching & teachers today — tryin gto gain some insight into the field, I guess. He’s got countless stories & also a good understanding of a lot of teaching “philosophy” (e.g. “tracking” of students — good or bad?). He’s apparently a pretty good teacher, too, as regarded by both faculty & students. It looks like I’ll be hiking with him for at least a week or so, and I’m looking forward to it.

Again this morning as I started out from the shelter, I was in kind of a funk, but, by this evening I was much better. I think the longer I spend with Julie, the longer it takes me to adjust to being without her. Gandalf isn’t seeing his fiance for 47 days! By Day 20, a certain amount of routine settles in, i guess. 47 days away from Julie probably would not drive me over the edge, but the prospect of that (i.e., anticipating it were it to happen) just might.

I’m not sure I’ve put pen to this thought or not yet: one of the things that makes a hike in the woods so awesome is nature’s palette. It is like she bought a bunch of greens & browns wholesale, but had to pay top dollar for all other colors. The result: the flowers are much more valuable and are much more appreciated by the hiker. Take note modern artisits — a little bit of color or two often does more than an array of all colors.

6/28/93 – Mon.

First: last night I (we) stayed at Doc’s Knob Shelter, and I successfully completed my 26.8 mile day today & am staying at Pine Swamp Branch Shelter tonight. I’ve caught up with Gandalf, who is also here tonight, as well as a guy named Matt who is sort of northbound until the end of July. Jack (a.k.a. “Wild-Man Jack,” “The Mushroom Man,” “Rasputin,” or (his “official” name) “The Wayward Traveler”), showed up about 8:45. I haven’t seen him since just outside of Erwin, TN, when I spent some time trying to describe him. I was surprised to have caught him so quickly after the reunion in Georgia. “Captain” and “Jumpy,” whose entries I have been reading, spent an extra day in Pearisburg, so I am now ahead of them yet still have not actually met them.

I was in a kind of funk for most of the day today — a touch of what hikers refer to as the “Virginia Blues,” I think. What with Julie leaving this morning and the uncertainty as to whether I would catch up (or be caught by) any of the hikers whose company I have enjoyed so much so far, Maine was starting to seem like a very distant place. The long hike I was facing didn’t help, either. It was almost as though nature were trying to cheer me up, though. I had the experience of unintentionally “chasing” a young bird down teh trail (it couldn’t fly high enough or far enough to do anything but fly down the trail in front of me) while its mother fussed from the sidelines. I also saw three different deer that weren’t bothered enough by my presence to run off — I got within about 30 ft. of all of them as I walked downt he trail. I also flushed six or seven quail, so, nature-wise, it was a pretty good day.

I am still in a bit of a funk, however. My focus is now to get to Harper’s Ferry as fast as is reasonably (I proved today that big mileage does not mean missing out on the nature experience), both so I can see Julie again and so I can possibly hook up with Buck. Gandalf is getting off in Harper’s Ferry, so I’d like to think there is somebody else I like that I might be bumping into occasionally, if not every night.

It’s been a long day, and I want to read a little E.B. White before retiring.

Article idea: Trail names — significance and anecdotes about

6/22/93 – Tue.

18.8 miles today by 4:00 — we’re staying at Knot Maul Shelter with Don Jordan (older fellow from Florida northbound to Katahdin), “Gandalf” (history teacher from Birmingham, Alabama — northbound this year from Erwin, TN, to Harper’s Ferry, WV — hiked with Buck & Bearanoid & says Buck says Hi), and “Beans” (southbound — from Tulsa, OK, but living in and about to start grad school in Austin, TX). We’ve spent the evening trading trail stories, mostly — some necessary F.Y.I. and some just interesting tales. It’s been enjoyable over all.

By the way, a guy came into the Mt. Rogers NRA H.Q. yesterday trying to unload a bunch of bananas (several bunches, actually — a big box) that were left over from something or other, so Ron & I took about eight, ate a couple apiece, and carried the rest up to the shelter. We sliced two of them into our strawberry pudding dessert and ate two this morning as a pre-breakfast to get us the 4.6 miles to the D.G. and the phones. We left camp about 6:30 and got to the phones around 8:00 — 7:00 St. Louis time & plenty of time for him to call Andrea before she left for work.

Once again, I am within shot of seeing Julie, and my mind spends more time two days ahead of me than in the present. Ron seems to be doing the same. Is this bad? I don’t think so. I’m still enjoying the trail, the views, and my other surroundings, and the thoughts do not make me wish I were off the trail, so I will not let it bother me.

Walking Eagle, who I met briefly on Roan Mountain, is temporarily of the trail and in the hospital with cellulitis (?) in his ankle. I had thought I was about to caatch him, and it’s too bad that it happened. He’s still planning to continue the trip, so I will try to leave him encouragement in shelter registers.

Article

“What day is it?” I ask one morning as we break camp.

“Sunday,” replies another hiker.

“Out here, every day is Sunday,” adds Victor, a backpacker known as “Bushwack” to other hikers on the 2,144 mile Appalachian Trail.

As I set out down the trail, Bushwack’s comment keeps returning to my thoughts. Sunday? I agree that after walking north from Georgia for a couple of weeks, the days do begin to take on a certain similarity that makes such terms as “weekend” relatively meaningless, but why Sunday?

The longer I ponder the question, the more sense it makes. Sunday is one of the two days of the weekend, and thus one of the two days when most people are freed from the structure and stricture (?) of the working world. On a long distance hike, that freedom is maximized, so, at the least, every day out here is a weekend day.

A little more thought yields the answer to the question of why Sunday over Saturday. American society has long been based on a Christian calendar and a Christian way of life. Predominantly, this means that Sunday mornings are left open for church attendance. Meetings, trips, retreats, and other leisure group activities are traditionally scheduled for Saturdays so as to avoid church conflicts. Even as more and more people drift away from church attendance, this practice is upheld, leaving many people with Sundays to themselves.

Sunday becomes a day free of commitments, when the most important task is to make sure that there is a clean pair of underwear to be worn to work on Monday. Sleeping late, reading all of the newspaper, and writing letters or talking to friends and family are all popular Sunday activities, but the key is that they are activities that are not directed by outside forces. Even church attendance is an activity that is ultimately driven by the individual’s own inner being.

Which brings me back tot he here and now of this trek from Georgia to Maine. Every day I am out here because it is where I want to be, and every day I have the option to sleep late or dawdle around camp or take a two-hour lunch break. Every day is a day I have to myself, and every day is Sunday.

—

That article was motivated by a suggestion that Mom had made and is really just an elaboration on some stuff I had written earlier in my journal. I would like to get one or two more written as well as re-famp the letter I drafted last week, before I leave Bastian. That way, Julie can type it up and send it off to the Beaumont Enterprise for me. I need to get their outdoor editor’s name.