Wind Storms and Ice Caves

Phew!  I made it through the White Mountains in New Hampshire.  I've been nervous about them since I started the Trail.  They are definitely the motherload of hiking.  In fact, sometimes it's more akin to bouldering or technical climbing (without the luxury of rope and harness) than it is hiking.  And except for a few minor slips on wet rocks, I made it through unscathed and uninjured.

My mother was very worried about me hiking over Mount Washington in bad weather.  And who wouldn't be worried?  Mount Washington has the worst recorded weather in the world!  Now, not on a daily basis, mind you.  But many people have died over the years and, admittedly, it's got its dangers.  I was nervous about it.  But we had great weather, well, over Mount Washington.

It was a gorgeous day.  We hiked from one hut to the Lake of the Clouds where Odie and I washed some dishes in exchange for coffee and a bowl of soup.  Then we started the ascent to Mt Washington - the tourist trap of deadly places.  We got to the top, and I headed over to the side to get a picture of the view.  The view was of a two-terraced parking lot over the side of the mountain.  Yes, you can drive there.  You can take a train there.  You can get on a mini-van and get shuttled there.  Why in the world was I hiking?  Odie and I had a really good laugh at that.

However, we needed to keep moving.  Rain was moving in during the afternoon, and we still had 2 miles of ridge above treeline to hike before we could get down safely.  Well, that was not to be.

The clouds were coming in and we decided to stealth camp at this one little place just at treeline by a spring.  Beautiful place.  Pitched the tent and crawled inside.  No thunderstorm (thankfully) but it rained pretty hard and the winds really picked up speed.

In the morning, we crawled out of the tent into dense fog.  We HAD to get off that ridge, and it was 1.5 miles to the next hut where we could get out of the weather.  There are small piles of rocks (instead of white blazes) indicating where the trail went on the ridge.  The fog was so so dense we couldn't see the next rock pile (called cairns) from the one we just passed.  So, that was slow going.  Also, there were gusts of wind that almost blew us over, probably nearing 60-70 mph.  Not to mention the wet rocks to boulder over.

But we got the beautiful weather AND the scary ridge-running moment (Odie wanted that) - all within 24 hours!  Perfect.

One more story about the Whites.  Odie and I had this crazy idea that we could slack 16 miles.  That was our 1st mistake.  We left our sleeping bags and tent behind, and started hiking.  10 miles later, we realize we aren't going to make 16 miles before dark with the ability to get off the mountain and hike back to our gear.  So, we make it to the last hut in the Whites - Carter Notch Hut.  We admit to the stupidity of what we did and asked if we could work to stay on the floor of the dining room, with perhaps the luxury of a blanket.  They fed us, they gave us mattresses and blankets, and we had great conversation and guitar performance.  In the morning, they gave us breakfast.

And then they told us about this ice cave.  Who could pass that up?  Led by one of the hut caretakers, Odie and I crawled through these collapsed rocks and down into the earth  below the mountain.  We got this amazing sight of ice and water droplets reflecting back like diamonds against the lichens that lived there.  Wow.  I didn't have my camera so this is an esoteric experience I won't be able to share with you.  But diamonds shining in the darkness.  So amazing, an ice cave.

We ended the day by hiking the rest of our "failed" slack pack, taking a gondola ride down the mountain (great pictures of another storm over Mt Washington) and hitching into town to an all you can eat chinese buffet.  They put us as far away from the other patrons as we were just so muddy and wet, smelly and I did get a few scrapes on my legs from the sharp rocks in the cave.  But nothing that didn't get washed away in the shower at the hostel that night before a good night's sleep.

And you all think I'm roughing it out here.

It's been a good week, and I think I'm adjusting to Odie's hiking style, and he's adjusting to mine.  We're communicating much better and I think it would be a delight to summit Katahdin with him.  We'll see what the Trail provides.  And what I decide on the Trail too

Wind Storms and Ice Caves

Phew!  I made it through the White Mountains in New Hampshire.  I've been nervous about them since I started the Trail.  They are definitely the motherload of hiking.  In fact, sometimes it's more akin to bouldering or technical climbing (without the luxury of rope and harness) than it is hiking.  And except for a few minor slips on wet rocks, I made it through unscathed and uninjured.

My mother was very worried about me hiking over Mount Washington in bad weather.  And who wouldn't be worried?  Mount Washington has the worst recorded weather in the world!  Now, not on a daily basis, mind you.  But many people have died over the years and, admittedly, it's got its dangers.  I was nervous about it.  But we had great weather, well, over Mount Washington.

It was a gorgeous day.  We hiked from one hut to the Lake of the Clouds where Odie and I washed some dishes in exchange for coffee and a bowl of soup.  Then we started the ascent to Mt Washington - the tourist trap of deadly places.  We got to the top, and I headed over to the side to get a picture of the view.  The view was of a two-terraced parking lot over the side of the mountain.  Yes, you can drive there.  You can take a train there.  You can get on a mini-van and get shuttled there.  Why in the world was I hiking?  Odie and I had a really good laugh at that.

However, we needed to keep moving.  Rain was moving in during the afternoon, and we still had 2 miles of ridge above treeline to hike before we could get down safely.  Well, that was not to be.
The clouds were coming in and we decided to stealth camp at this one little place just at treeline by a spring.  Beautiful place.  Pitched the tent and crawled inside.  No thunderstorm (thankfully) but it rained pretty hard and the winds really picked up speed.

In the morning, we crawled out of the tent into dense fog.  We HAD to get off that ridge, and it was 1.5 miles to the next hut where we could get out of the weather.  There are small piles of rocks (instead of white blazes) indicating where the trail went on the ridge.  The fog was so so dense we couldn't see the next rock pile (called cairns) from the one we just passed.  So, that was slow going.  Also, there were gusts of wind that almost blew us over, probably nearing 60-70 mph.  Not to mention the wet rocks to boulder over.

But we got the beautiful weather AND the scary ridge-running moment (Odie wanted that) - all within 24 hours!  Perfect.

One more story about the Whites.  Odie and I had this crazy idea that we could slack 16 miles.  That was our 1st mistake.  We left our sleeping bags and tent behind, and started hiking.  10 miles later, we realize we aren't going to make 16 miles before dark with the ability to get off the mountain and hike back to our gear.  So, we make it to the last hut in the Whites - Carter Notch Hut.  We admit to the stupidity of what we did and asked if we could work to stay on the floor of the dining room, with perhaps the luxury of a blanket.  They fed us, they gave us mattresses and blankets, and we had great conversation and guitar performance.  In the morning, they gave us breakfast.

And then they told us about this ice cave.  Who could pass that up?  Led by one of the hut caretakers, Odie and I crawled through these collapsed rocks and down into the earth  below the mountain.  We got this amazing sight of ice and water droplets reflecting back like diamonds against the lichens that lived there.  Wow.  I didn't have my camera so this is an esoteric experience I won't be able to share with you.  But diamonds shining in the darkness.  So amazing, an ice cave.

We ended the day by hiking the rest of our "failed" slack pack, taking a gondola ride down the mountain (great pictures of another storm over Mt Washington) and hitching into town to an all you can eat chinese buffet.  They put us as far away from the other patrons as we were just so muddy and wet, smelly and I did get a few scrapes on my legs from the sharp rocks in the cave.  But nothing that didn't get washed away in the shower at the hostel that night before a good night's sleep.

And you all think I'm roughing it out here.

It's been a good week, and I think I'm adjusting to Odie's hiking style, and he's adjusting to mine.  We're communicating much better and I think it would be a delight to summit Katahdin with him.  We'll see what the Trail provides.  And what I decide on the Trail too.

Running down a mountain

OK, this is something you ALL must do.  I don't care how bad your knees are, or how old you think you are, or how mature you consider yourself to be.  You must try running down a mountain sometime. 

Here's how:  

1. Find a cool mountain and climb it.  Have trekking poles at the ready.
2. Have a fantastic self-revelation at the top.
3. On the way down as you are rejoicing at your self-revelation, begin to let yourself rely more and more on the trekking poles, using all 4 appendages to propel you down the trail.
4. Beware of tree roots and rocks as they can impede a nice jog and land you in a faceplant.
5. Continue to gain speed until you are on the verge of being out of control.
6. Maintain this as you lope along using your trekking poles to help you leap over rough spots in the trail.
7. Feel free!

Yup.  That's what happened today.  It's a lot of fun.  No faceplants, just sheer joy!

Oh, and what was my said revelation?  Well, it's difficult to explain.  But, in non-well-thought-out words... I realized the difference in doing something out of love rather than doing the same thing out of pride.  I experienced (yet again, maybe now I will learn to heed this more instantaneously) that feeling of what a correct answer is internally, and to stop all this rigamoroll (spell check?) of trying to think something out when I already have had the answer all along.  It's a bittersweet thing to experience joy and sorrow at the same time.  But it makes running down mountains that much more fulfilling.  

More to come, I'm sure :-)

Integrity

My last post put a very positive spin on the way that I seem to be hiking the Trail right now.  It has been a LOT of fun, I've met some very nice people.  Even yesterday, I ended up trying to hitch hike, and ended up for a day and a half at a crawl***.
 
Although the way I'm hiking has been a lot of fun, I've also taken 9 zero days out of the last 18.  That's not a lot of hiking.  And it makes me a little sad.  Actually, it makes me feel like I'm not being very honest with any of you to say that I am still THRU-hiking.  It's been difficult when EVERY person who sees me with my little backpack questions that I'm a thru-hiker.  Some don't believe that I started in Georgia.  I desperately still want to be hiker trash, but, it would seem, I now have too many differences.  Sure, some hiker trash wouldn't care how much I hitch-hike, but I do.  A very few hikers think I'm badass for staying on the Trail after a MRSA infection.  But HALF of the past 18 days NOT on the Trail!!  Sigh.

I'm trying so desperately to adapt to someone else's hike.  And sometimes I feel like I'm the bad person for wanting to have a plan.  And I feel like the killjoy for wanting to actually get up and just hike instead of waiting to see what fun the "Trail" will provide. 

So, I'm trying to figure out what to do.  Is it posible to hike by myself?  Without a tent or water purifier?  Will it still be any fun?  I remember getting very lonely after 10 days in the Shenandoahs by myself.  And this will be a month.  So, please pray for me.  This is a very difficult hike at the moment.  Even though it is very fun.  And even though I very much enjoy Odie's company. 

So, yes, there is a positive way to look at this, and that is the way I'm trying to see this, trying to adapt.  However, there is still a part of me that is not content.  With all integrity, I cannot say that I am hiking my own hike.  So, it's about trying to figure out how much I need to bend and sway and adapt and how much I need to stand by what I want from this Trail.  It's not an easy decision.


***For those that don't know (as I didn't until yesterday), a crawl is when people raise up the chassis of their truck or jeep, put huge tires on, and then drive through the woods, tearing through the trees, bouldering over rocks, creating large swaths of tire tracks. They create really steep hills to try to muscle up, and long mud trails to try to floor the gas pedals and force their vehicles through. I know that we do have this in Wisconsin, but I had never been up close and personal to it, much less in someone's jeep while getting stuck in the sand on said really steep hill.

Not a purist... or "hitch-hiking still uses the word hiking"

It's pretty cool who you meet when you stand on the side of the road with your thumb out.  When you are captive in their car and you put your trust that they aren't carrying a shotgun and a shovel in their trunk.  And they are trusting you to not have a pistol and bottle of lye in your backpack. 

I love hiking the trails through the woods, but I will admit, trees begin to look the same after a while.  I took lots and lots of pictures of streams and trees and fungus and all manner of things early on the Trail.  But, I have less to take pictures of now, it seems.  It will simply look the same as pictures I've taken before.  But when you hitch hike, you meet all manner of new people with new stories and new opportunities to learn.  Don't worry, I'm still hiking the trail under the power of my own two legs, but I'm also adding in several opportunities to hitch-hike.  Yeah, I probably won't hit the 2000 mile mark.  Ah well.  I heard from another non-purist hiker today that being a purist is just another way to stroke one's ego.  Perhaps.

Yesterday, I met a mother.  She had two sons in her car.  One of her "sons" was a boy who lived in the Bronx and was part of a program to come to Vermont in the summer to experience the out of doors. 

A few days ago, I got a ride from a lawyer who loved sailing.  I learned a LOT about different boats and how to sail and also of a great little pub in Scotland that can only be gotten to by hiking or sailing.  New destination on my bucket list.  I also learned the Odie has a love of sailing.  Who knew?

I stayed with a trail angel last night, and had a lovely 2 1/2 hour conversation with her about all manner of random things.  She fed me lettuce and cukes from her own garden.  She fed me homemade bread, homemade granola, and homemade yogurt for breakfast, along with rhubarb that came out of her neighbor's garden.  She showed me her compost bucket and also pictures of her when she did some community theater. 

When I was at the Inn at Long Trail (Killington VT), I schmoozed with the locals and hikers at McGrath's Pub.  Met a great pair - Yonder and MoonCall.  They were hiking the Long Trail, and I think I could have hung out with them for years - what good souls!  In fact, Yonder gave me a new trail name.  I asked him what he'd name me if I didn't already have a trail name, and he suggested "Phoenix" because he sensed that I'd risen above some ashes of my  past.  It's amazing what a good Guiness will tell about another person!  And, no, I'm not changing my name - but it was the 1st trail name suggested for me in 1700 miles!

When Odie and I tried leaving Inn at Long Trail, we found some rock climbers.  The gal wore the same size shoes as me, so I borrowed her climbing shoes and harness and climbed the 5.7 difficulty (moderate difficulty) of Deer Leap.  I was successful!!!!  Woot!  While I was climbing the sheer rock face, Odie ended up slipping on a boulder getting a picture of me and gave himself a good goose egg bruise on his thigh.  It ended up we only hiked about 2.5 miles where we found a private wedding going on at a lodge.  We ended up talking to several of the wedding party, and tried to stay out of the pictures of the bride and groom.  Then, we hitched back to the Inn at Long Trail and camped out across the street.  Schmoozed more at the pub, and I got the opportunity to buy a drink for the threesome that let me climb on their ropes. 

We hitched with a section hiker up to Woodstock VT, and stayed 2 nights with a guy who just lets hikers sleep in his yard.  We ended up jumping in his truck to go "get breakfast" right when we got dropped off.  What we ended up doing was helping to clean up from a community dance the night before to help save the local community store.  Pretty cool to meet the locals.  Saw their local community theater space.  Then, back to Daniel's house to cook all day for the warrior hikers coming in that night and partying with them and other locals.  Needless to say, we didn't hike.  Well, we hitch-HIKED 23 miles that day just to clean and cook :-).  Hitching is still "hiking".  At least, that is what I'm telling myself.  I'm still heading north - that was my goal all along, right?

Another meaning to manna

I'm a planner.  Sure, I can be spontaneous, but mostly, I know I can be spontaneous when I have planned things out and know what can give or not.  I don't think that's a bad thing.  I think the ability to plan things out and execute said plans is a good skill.  There is another skill; one that requires a lot more flexibility and finesse.  That is the skill of living day to day with contentment.  Apparently, that is the skill I'm being provided the opportunity to work on.

Manna from heaven is a great gift.  All the things the Trail provides on a very regular basis seems like complete magic.  (And it is complete magic, given by very real angels.)  The thing is, however, daily manna does not make much room for the ability to make plans.

Since landing in the ER two weeks ago, my entire hike has changed.  Now, don't get me wrong, my hike has changed several times before, depending on who I was hiking with.  But overall, many things were the same.  People's faces were familiar and I knew most everyone on the Trail.  I knew what I'd eat because I was getting the maildrops I had made up for myself before the trip.  I could easily plan where I'd go into town, when I'd skip a town, where I'd stay in the next hostel, or take a shower, or get to do laundry.  It was fairly easy to plan.

Now, things are a little different.  Odie has a much different hike than I do.  He doesn't do much in the way of planning.  He takes spontaneity to a whole new level.  He lives for the moment, and only the moment.  And, it would seem, he doesn't have much interest in learning the skill of long term planning.  So, I will adjust my hike.

I've had to lessen my grip on my goal to Katahdin, or at least, when and how I get there.  Yes, Katahdin is still the goal for both Odie and I, but I don't keep looking to the end.  I look at tomorrow's hike, and maybe, just maybe, the shadowy idea of the next 2 or 3 days, but certainly no further.

I've had to lessen my grip on what we plan to do each day.  We say, "let's do 20 miles tomorrow."  And I know that there are things that hinder going 20 miles - rain for instance.  What I didn't know was that many, many things could hinder 20 miles - lack of sleep the night before, finding an interesting southbound hiker to smoke with, climbing a fire tower could well take a few hours.  Oh, and sometimes, a section hiker will loan you his truck that's sitting at the trailhead so you can spend the rest of the day shuttling other hikers to various places in town.  No, really, that happened.  We got to borrow a truck from someone we had met for only about 10 minutes.  OK, that's a good reason to not do 20 miles.  How often does the Trail provide a Ford 350?

I'm needing to learn that I am not in control, even of things that I technically could try to be of control of.  Rather, manna from heaven means accepting the place I find myself, looking ahead to goals, but leaving the present moment to present itself for me to simply enjoy.  Odie is fantastic at finding the joy in each moment.  I'm only OK at that.  But I will choose to embrace the opportunity to learn.

Well, apparently, someone made pancakes at this moment, so I'm going to go eat some.  Carpe diem!

Prayer Walker's post AND Matt's Diabetes Hike

Here is a link to a video another hiker took of me. It's not quite current as we met in the Smokies a few months ago, but here it is! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sCCHIC-aPHs&feature=youtu.be Also, here's a link to her blog. She took pictures of a LOT of hikers, so you may see some folks I've mentioned, plus a lot I haven't: http://www.prayerwalkerat.blogspot.com/ Oh, and PLEASE check out Matt's Diabetes Hike. Matt, aka "Odie" is the person who is carrying my stuff in addition to his own pack so that I can continue on being a thru-hiker. He's walking to raise money for diabetes because his grandfather lost his leg to diabetes and can't hike anymore. His goal was to have 1000 people donate $10 each. He's short of that goal, and I would love to help his cause out because he's helping me finish the Trail. If you can help, I think this would be a great way for me to thank him for helping me. The link is http://main.diabetes.org/site/TR/Events/Tributes-personalfundraising?pxfid=566193&fr_id=5721&pg=fund

I'm still a Thru-Hiker!

I'm back from my Silent Retreat. Well, sort of silent. I spent time almost every evening hanging with whatever hikers were staying in the hostel and spent time on the phone talking to friends and family back home (when I had signal). However, I also read a couple of really good books - one particularly about Celtic Christianity. No wonder I've always struggled with the American Church overall. It's because I'm really much more of a Celtic Christian than I am a Augustinian Christian. Yeah, I know that makes no sense to most of you... and that's OK. It's really not important. And really not what this blog post is about today. But in case any of you are interested, I'd be delighted to talk about the differences when I get home. Today, I'm just going to update you on what the Trail is providing for me. I had gotten my brain wrapped around the fact that I was injured to a point that I was not going to be hiking with a pack. The nurses from the ER said that I shouldn't be wearing a backpack for 1-2 months. MONTHS! That veritably ended my hike as I knew it. I was content with that idea. Perhaps it was time to take a little more time with some day trips for closure, and then go home. Perhaps, I could figure out how to slack pack several more short distances and then be done. I slackpacked by myself on Monday. I just didn't feel like a thru-hiker anymore. I was just a day hiker. No more camping at the shelters. No more staying at hostels. Welcome to the world of laundry detergent. So, I figured I would slack pack across Massachusetts and call that good enough. 1600 miles, not too shabby. I called my sister's friend who said I could stay with her if I needed to figure out how much longer to heal and move on (either home or day hiking). I called a friend to see if I could stay with her. Both said yes. OK - I had a place to land until I could get myself home. But I still wanted to be a thru-hiker - even if it meant I couldn't get all the way to Katahdin. I still wanted to be a thru-hiker right now. Then Odie caught up to me. You might remember my post on Outside Dog (now renamed Odie) from early on in the Trail. I offered to let him slackpack with me for the couple of days I had left in Massachusetts. I was already closing my mind's door as I said goodbye to the Trail going over Mt Greylock. Then Odie suggested that he carry my stuff so that I could continue thru-hiking with just a day pack (which wouldn't, hopefully, re-infect my back and let me continue to heal). What?!?! No, I couldn't possibly accept such an offer! I mean... I'm a strong woman. I don't need people. I'll do it on my own, thank you very m... oh, there's that damned self-sufficiency again. Ahem. OK, OK, maybe the Trail /is/ giving me not just a sherpa for my stuff, but also a friend who I'd love to climb Mt. Katahdin with. So, today, I shipped my back pack home with lots of my gear. I'll be depending a LOT on Odie and his capacity to carry his stuff and my stuff. I'll be trusting that Odie will WANT to hike with me the rest of 600 miles and 3 states. I'll be praying that God protest my own back from the new pack that Mother Nature gave me to use from her stuff and that I won't be too far from a clinic/ER in case it decides to get all infected again. It's a different hike, that's for sure. It's a new level of trust and inter-dependence. Maybe I should have been more careful when I pontificated on my need to address my damned self-sufficiency on this Trail. Look what it handed me. Just what I needed, apparently. But, at least, I'm still a thru-hiker. For another day, and by the grace of God, another several weeks. I'll keep you posted.