morvasaaty/AppalachianTrail-LD-Hikers-Blogs-and-Weather-20-years huggingface dataset:
Date: 2010-03-07
From: Groundhog Creek Shelter

To: Roaring Fork Shelter
Miles today: 11.5
Weather: overcast clouds

"Dude, I just don't care anymore," I told Kevin several hours into the next day. He sort of laughed. "Neither do I, man. I've thought more about quitting today than I ever did in the Smokies." It was true. We'd covered over 250 miles and broke past our most formidable challenge, the Great Smoky Mountains, a climax in itself. But the trail felt empty post-climactic void. There was nothing really to look forward to now. No dramatic punctuations. Just dull and difficult miles, and 2,000 miles of them.That morning had been another late start. We just couldn't move on with any intention or speed. I was angry at Kevin for something stupid and left before him. On the mountain my toes went numb and dangerously close to frostbite. I groaned and groaned at the pain. I finally pulled over, took off my shoes and socks, and heated up my feet over the stove until my feet stopped hurting. The feeling was vaguely there, but the frostbite pain (which is like someone bending your toes backwards) was gone. Kevin walked up and sat down. We cooked a hot meal in the middle of the trail and moved along. (I learned later that I'd sustained more frostbite on my big toe, but the skin was protected by thick toe-pad callus. Writing 2 days later, it's still totally numb on both toes).At Max Patch, an amazing bald so large that airplanes used to land on it, we found some dayhikers and talked to them as the sun set. Then it was on to Roaring Fork Shelter, where we found two more overnighters to share the lean-to. ¢People! Kevin, people! Are you excited? I¢m excited.¢ He was. This was the first night with company. After almost a month of occupying shelters with just Kevin, seeing a light through the woods beyond the ¢SHELTER¢ sign brought me to a yip and a yell. In fact, all the human contact that day filled me up; the shelter company was just icing on the cake.Yeah, we were weary coming out of the Smokies, but we¢d moved on that day hoping for a little inspiration. Mr. Boyer said I¢d empty out for a long time before the Lord would fill me back up. So maybe that¢s what¢s happening now. I do not fear it. It¢s no fun, but I do not fear it.
Date: 2010-03-09
From: Deer Park Shelter

To: A cabin (Hot Springs, NC)
Miles today: 3.2
Weather: broken clouds

Many nights, I open my eyes in confusion. I awake from deep dreams of home, so it sickens the stomach when one realizes he's far from it. Sadly, that hard floor below and black shelter ceiling above mean one thing: I'm on the A.T. The disappoinment is alawys deep. Early this morning I awoke in Hot Springs, lying under soft bed covers in a heated cabin, and it hit me. Opening my eyes was deeply disappointing. The dream wasn't of home (actually, it was of NASCAR races in the Outer Banks, NC), but it was so warm and fuzzy. It wasn't along the A.T. where, deep down, I don't want to be. That's right: I don't want to be here That "Live in the present" B.S. only works for 10-second bursts available 3 to 5 times a day. The rest of the day sucks, and one can either spend time not thinking (i.e. approaching mental fluidity and Zen) or thinking (i.e. consciously cursing each bump on the trail). I move back and forth between both.So even though I was riding the gravy train in Hot Springs, I still didn't want to be there. I wanted to be home. As for the day's schedule, there's not much to say. Eating heartily between each event, we relaxed, showered, hot tubbed, and slept. The best part of the day? Plunging into the icy Frech Broad River from the cozy hot springs. So to all you faithful readers who say to yourselves, "DOESN'T WANT TO BE THERE?! IS HE CRAZY? HE'S LIVING THE DREAM!", remember that, no matter how uncomfortable I am, I'm following Truth and that's all I need. "Following truth" sounds cheesy and over-inflated, but honestly that's the only reason I'm here. That is what's binding me to The Trail.P.S. Sorry about the sporadic entries. My faithful mother is serving as secretary and transcribing the journal pages I'm mailing from trail towns. Using a computer like I am now is an exception.
Date: 2010-03-11
From: A cabin (Hot Springs, NC)

To: Spring Mountain Shelter
Miles today: 11.0
Weather: overcast clouds

March 11 The vortex. That¢s what the lady at the outfitter called it. I¢m not familiar with the vortex but I¢ve felt its presence especially as Kevin and I debated on whether or not to move on today. When your feet stop moving the pull of the vortex begins, they say. First it¢s an extra day of rest, then it¢s a week, then you¢ve given up. But it wasn¢t like that for us. We just needed another day of rest, and, writing a day later, I¢m glad we kicked up our feet another day. No regrets. I¢m all alone now, sitting in a diner at 6:45am. It¢s warm outside and rain is coming. I¢m as happy as I could be to be one country breakfast away from hitting the trail again. A man behind with suspenders and a white beard rambled on to every local who comes in the door. ¢Johnny, d¢you remember when the bank got robbed?¢ he says to Johnny, who pays for a to-go cup of coffee. The old bearded man tells the story just as he did to the last passerby. Johnny tries to go. ¢Darn it, Johnny, sit down here and let¢s talk,¢ gripes the old man. After 20-some minutes the conversation goes to corporal punishment, ¢You know that¢s what¢s a matter with kids these days. Hell, I¢ll come over there and whip ¢em myself!¢ Then stories are exchanged.The day's hike was not a bad one, but climbing back into the mountains from Hot Springs made me question why I was moving on in the first place. The old-timer's rambling 9-5 routine was so appealing. Rain broke, and I reached the shelter feeling miserable and cursing under my breath. But, as always, I got in my sleeping bag and everything was alright.
Date: 2010-03-12
From: Spring Mountain Shelter

To: Jerry Cabin Shelter
Miles today: 15.4
Weather: overcast clouds

Today ended with seven hikers, lined like sardines in a shelter with the rain pattering on the roof. I wished I was alone, but oh well. The day had been a good one ¢ almost 16 miles ¢ and clear enough to keep me in bright spirits. It rained on and off and I was always wet, but the air was balmy and wind low and I stayed lkay the whole day. I won¢t go into the boring details because to everyone except me they¢re just that: boring. So at the shelter we met some kids from Appalachian State, including two pretty girls. It was nice being around some pretty girls. They gave us a full loaf of home-risen bread. In the morning, I hiked alone in the sunshine and had a revelation about the ¢remember how tough you are¢ bit of advice. Nobody¢s ever a coward or a wimp, they just don¢t remember how tough they are. And when you¢re a Christian, it¢s not remembering how tough He is. I got up in the dark of the night. The rain was really coming down in heaves and everyone was asleep. Someone snored nightly. I looked out in the gloomy woods, just a mess of dark gray and black. It was all so beautiful, and I wondered if this was God romancing me, you know? I lit a pipe and watched the embers glow and die and glow and die, not knowing what the silence of the night meant, but knowing it meant something.
Date: 2010-03-13
From: Jerry Cabin Shelter

To: Hogback Ridge Shelter
Miles today: 14.7
Weather: light rain

Another beautiful day, and hopes were high as I crossed mile 300. I was leading the pack, the second northbound thru-hiker of the worse-weathered season in recent memory, and I felt strong and confident. Three hundred miles of ups and downs and here I am: on the bright side. We made it to our shelter before nightfall, and found 2 beers, 7 sodas floating in the icy cold pool by the spring. Our first encounter with premeditated trail magic! I used ear plugs that night for Rooster¢s snoring. I¢m starting to write strange things in the trail registers. Yesterday, I wrote that monkeys stole all our food. Tonight I wrote that watch-selling gypsies showed up at 3am.
Date: 2010-03-14
From: Hogback Ridge Shelter

To: No Business Knob Shelter
Miles today: 20.7
Weather: light rain

And I thought we were in the clear. The morning opened with an inch of still-falling snow on the ground, and we were off with moderate spirits, and I was feeling alright, in the zone. But approaching the top of Big Bald, the trail simply disappeared. The snow was knee-deep by now. Two experienced college kids had given up searching the day before and set up an emergency shelter. A 20-something couple had done the same. Both groups headed back down the mountain, but we didn't have the luxury of turning back. We took a photo of a contour map and kept trudging on. The trail ¢ or lack there of ¢ was hell, and we wandered the woods, completely lost. Finally, we found some cross country ski tracks and followed them to the shelter. I don¢t feel like recounting those last 10 miles, but I got lost a couple more times for 30 minutes, broke my trekking pole against a tree in anger, and arrived to camp in the pitch black of night. Deep snow, bad downfalls, a numb-toed nap in a hollowed-out tree. Twenty-one miles and a long, long day. But we made it, and all¢s well that ends well.
Date: 2010-03-15
From: No Business Knob Shelter

To: Curley Maple Gap Shelter
Miles today: 10.5
Weather: light rain

All-You-Can-Eat pizza took the place of breakfast, lunch, and dinner today. We sat in Erwin¢s Pizza Plus for several hours, eating pizza after pizza and drinking Mountain Dew. It was incredible. It made my day. We¢d trotted 6 miles into town that morning to resupply and left to the next shelter late that afternoon. I bought fuel, 7 snickers bars, 7 oatmenal packets, lemondade mix, 2 ramens, and mixed two varieties of trail mix ¢ nuts, raisins and baking chocolates & pinapple, mangoes, cranberries and nuts. Enough for 3 days of strenuous hiking. We also did a load of detergentless laundry at the coin laundry. Rooster, the kindhearted Arizonan we¢d picked up in the Springs, decided to quit. ¢It wasn¢t what I thought it¢d be, man. Not like last year.¢ I¢ll miss him and the way he calmed the room. Oh well. We got to the shelter that night in the dark. I smoked my pipe, drank hot tea, and whished I was alone. The other guys just wouldn¢t stop talking loudly. An interesting thought: Toe Man said that when he¢s hiking alone he knows exactly where he is , but when he¢s with company he doesn¢t really know what¢s going on. He relies on others to lead him. Life is like that , he said. I agree. Things are so clear alone.
Date: 2010-03-16
From: Curley Maple Gap Shelter

To: Clyde Smith Shelter
Miles today: 22.0
Weather: overcast clouds

Robin said that (even though we are out of the Smokies) challenges lay ahead. Yesterday I army-crawled over Unaka Mountain, and I realized how right she was. Unaka was buried with 3 feet of snow, and on the way up we ran into a Citadel grad, 3 months shy of deployment to Iraq. He said he¢d been on the mountain for three days, trying unsuccessfully to push through the snow and downfall with his GPS. He¢d lost the trail. "Want us to lead you over?," Toe Man asked. "We're not turning back." In a couple hours, we broke through the mess. ¢What does that say about the U.S. Military?¢ Toe Man joked.   Every soul we¢ve encountered has been in escape of the mountain, retreating with head hung low. That days hike carried over into night. Even with my headlamp, all was murky as thick fog rolled in. I was ahead, and when I got to the shelter I sat out in the dark to smoke my pipe. No headlamp; just my pipe, the dark and I.
Date: 2010-03-17
From: Clyde Smith Shelter

To: A cabin (near Overmountain Shelter?)
Miles today: 13.1
Weather: overcast clouds

You never really know who to trust when asking about the trail ahead. Everyone has his or her standards of assessment, so when Joe at the trailhead looks wearily at me and says, ¢Turn back man. It¢s impossible.¢ The trail may in fact be quite the opposite. It may be an easy day. So whenever someone tells me it¢s impossible, I size ¢em up. What are they wearing? Do they sound frantic? How long were they at it? And did they use the work ¢impossible¢? Because if they did, they are not to be trusted. Down in Erwin, the outfitter told us (in crude language) that Roan Mountain would be extremely difficult, that we should wait for better weather. Well, we made it over Roan today defying the outfitter¢s forecast of failure and surprising the critics once again. It was hard, but not as hard as he said. Off the mountain I was soaked with snow, sweat, and ice-melt. I met aaron, a warmhearted man on his way down from a day-hike. He was full of love. Or maybe it was joy. Aaron: if you read this, thanks for brightening my life. You radiate, man. I caught a ¢God Bless¢ when we parted ways and I think it may have something to do with it. Next we climbed several balds, open grassy expanses that took me back to scenes from Braveheart. Lone Scots running along highland ridges with bagpipes in the background. The bagpipes played on as we walked with 360 degree panoramic views. Off the balds we lost the trail. We ended up following a old logging road to the bottom of the vally. In the dark, we spotted a dimly lit mansion and approached. Upon knocking we met Jim Morton, who gave us directions back to the trail but offered us a night in one of his five cabins on the property. We couldn¢t believe our good fortune, and I fell asleep that night on a soft bed. Trail magic, once again.
Date: 2010-03-18
From: A cabin (near Overmountain Shelter?)

To: Mountain Harbour Hostel (Elk Park, TN)
Miles today: 9.0

I was all out of food, so the next day¢s journey was a hungry one. We crossed two 5,500 foot balks and descended down to Elk Park, TN over the course of 9 miles. I got ahead of Toe Man and Kevin and, at the road, hitchhiked in to town to pick up my maildrop. I was ecstatic to be away from the fellas. They were really starting to get on my nerves, and I felt the rush of freedom as I sat at the hostel and slit open the maildrop box with my knife. Or maybe that was just the rush of seeing a zip-lock bag of homemade cookies! I took a shower, stoked the wood stove, ate cookies, and walked around the living room if the hostel, not really sure what to do with myself. Free time? For all the vagrant conceptions of thru-hikers, we¢re actually a busy bunch. Free time is a treat.
Date: 2010-03-19
From: Mountain Harbour Hostel (Elk Park, TN)

To: Moreland Gap Shelter
Miles today: 16.7
Weather: clear sky

I passed a ¢mile 400¢ sign today in a ravine, and I kept on walking, wondering how I made it this far. I thought back to the second day, when I felt like things couldn¢t get any worse, and I wonder what bizarre force pushed me on. Was it will? Stubborness? Faith? Or something other than that? Tonight is the most quiet night of the walk so far. It¢s like a glassy lake fogged with darkness. I¢m alone tonight again and glad for it. ¢Make it stop¢. I kept saying aloud on the way here. It wad dark and my feet were at their limit, pounding with a pain I just couldn¢t numb my mind to. My feet were not happy, and every step was a reminder of 400 miles of walking, these were the most painful of all. I did something I¢ve never done before, right then: I asked God for strength. I didn¢t really know what else to do. I wasn¢t angry or emotional like before ¢ I shed neither rage nor tears ¢ but just tired of my feet hurting. And my prayer worked like a good medicine. In a couple of minutes, a second wind picked me up and carried me to the shelter. Like I said, that night was quiet like a cathedral. You could feel it all around you, that still and open space that afforded the lonely hiker with a sense of safety in the night.
Date: 2010-03-20
From: Holiday Inn Express (Abingdon, VA)

To: Kincora (Dennis Cove, TN)
Miles today: 6.0

I think if Jesus was around, he¢d sit down and talk wit you about your favorite thing, no matter how boring it was. He¢d pretend to be interested while the NASCAR fan talked his ear off about why Dale Jarret should be in the Hall of Fame. He¢d ask questions, too, and pretend to be excited with you. ¢Wait, he won the Daytona how many times?!?!¢ There aren¢t enough people like Jesus around to encourage us to spout off our passions, so we begin to believe that those passions aren¢t worth being passionate about. I try to jump in like Jesus would, but I forget most days. I mean, it¢s exhausting. Today I went to church with Bob Peoples, owner of the Kincora Hostel, and after the service he invited me to a dinner. It was all old folks, but I sat with a girl my age who wants to open a quilt shop. She was a really nice girl. After the dinner, I sat around and chatted while Bob helped clean up with the other men. ¢They wanna do their part so I understand,¢ said the woman who prepared the dinner, ¢but it¢d be quicker if they just let me do it. They don¢t know where anything goes.¢ Her husband came out to catch his breath ,and started talking to me about his German Shepard. Nobody was really listening to him as he went on, so I stepped up and played Jesus. ¢It¢s only two years and weighs 105 lbs.!?!? Does she eat a lot?¢ And doing that for him, really validating his passion, filled me up. The woman was overweight and had short-hair and was the kind I would have passed on the street with a judgemental eye. But she sprang to life as I talked to her about her work with the church and state as a counselor psychologist. She was full of love, like we all should be. She mentioned her five kids. ¢It sounds like you¢re a mother to more than five,¢ I said. Back at the hostel I talked with five students from Grinnell College, and it hit me how sociable JMU kids are by comparison. JMU kids know the art of communication and pride themselves in being exceptionally agreeable citizens. Kids from smaller, private liberal arts schools tend to communicate awkwardly and choose not to shake hands and smile. So it seems, at least.
Date: 2010-03-21
From: Kincora (Dennis Cove, TN)

To: Kincora (Dennis Cove, TN)
Miles today: 0.0

I took a ¢zero¢ day today to rest my feet. I don¢t really have blister problems; it¢s my bone structure and foot pads that hurt so badly. In a word, my feet just feel bruised. The whole situation doesn¢t irritate me too much, but I am disappointed to be wasting away this beautiful weather. I wish I just felt good. I could really start complaining here but I¢ll save my time. Can¢t wait to be back on the trail tomorrow but fearing my feet.
Date: 2010-03-24
From: Double Spring Shelter

To: The Place (Damascus, VA)
Miles today: 18.0
Weather: broken clouds

Yesterday was another day split by dull pain and bright moments of joy. I ate some cold oatmeal (it's better cold, I beleive) and left Double Spring Shelter at 9:36. According to Tony, it was "surely" no more than 8 miles to Damascus, a section he claimed was "the easiest section on the Trail." Not true. I cursed him under my breath the whole way for being so sure about something he obviously knew nothing about. Before long I was at the gap and soon after that Abingdon Shelter. There, I cooked (and ate) too much couscous and fell asleep with my feet propped up to reduce swelling. I woke nearly an hour later from deep sleep. My head felt fresh but my feet hurt badly. The march down to Damascus was a difficult one, but I was there by 5:00. At The Place, an unattended $5-donation hostel run by the Methodist Church, I ate too many candy bars (a bag of them, left as Trail Magic in the hostel). I left to grab a bacon cheesburger, Mountain Dew, and an ice cream bar. Then, an old-timer invited me back to his house for teriyaki chicken. I obliged. His name was Larry, and he's got a wild story. He escaped the law and hid in the woods for 3 years, until he had a spiritual revelation and turned himself in. He did time and came out somewhat reformed. Since, Damascus has taken him in and he's taken to helping hikers. Now, Larry lives with his dog and cat. He stands in front of a warehouse and sells yard-sale things. That night, I ate more candy bars and fell asleep.
Date: 2010-03-25
From: The Place (Damascus, VA)

To: The Place (Damascus, VA)
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: light rain

My zero day in Damascus has little to say. I was supposed to walk over to Larry's to buy some eggs and turn his garden, but instead I ate dougnuts and walked over to Mount Rogers Outfitters to try on some insoles. My feet were killing me. Jeff, the large, kindhearted foot expert there, fitted me for some Superfeet insoles and said it would solve my problems. It took him a half hour to explain the foot-mechanics behind my pain, and I appreciated every minute of it. It's not often you run across someone who really knows what they're talking about. I met up with Lucky, a SOBO, and another section hiker. We power-walked a mile or so to a Pizza Plus (all-you-can-eat pizza), then waddled like penquins back to the hostel. I took a nap then walked over to Joe's Gym, and I paid him $5 for a MMA lesson. We practiced kickboxing kicks, boxing drills, ju-jitsu holds, and muy thai clinches. Afterwards I lifted weights. Shaking up the routine like that it sometimes all a hiker needs. Hanging out with Joe freshened my spirits. That night we went to Quincy's Bar & Grill and I had a Star Hill IPA and a grilled cheese. It was live music night, and we listened to some suprisingly-talented locals sing, strum the guitar, and play the harmonica. "In Color" was my favorite cover they performed. Everyone at the bar was singing along. The other hikers watched the March Madness game and I watched the locals interact. The Place was cold and had only dirty towels (yea, I may have used one or two) and hardwood beds, so it was just a step up from the shelter. Still, I slept alright.