morvasaaty/AppalachianTrail-LD-Hikers-Blogs-and-Weather-20-years huggingface dataset:
Date: 2011-08-12
From: Mizpah Spring Hut

To: Day 92
Miles today: 4.8

I'm gonna take a shit on the next meteorologist I come across, which will most likely be Doppler if he ever catches up. I went to great lengths to ensure that I would hit this section of the Whites today because today was supposed to be the only clear day of the week. What happened? I woke up in Mizpah completely socked in by clouds. I ate oatmeal and eggs for breakfast (they had run out of bacon) and walked out into the cloud. I climbed Pierce, Eisenhower, Franklin, and Monroe, but skipped all of the summit-loop trails because I couldn't see more than 20 ft in front of me. I was pretty bummed about missing out on the summits so I would up taking refuge somewhere around Mt. Eisenhower with Yak and Stitch for about 2 hours waiting for the weather to clear up. It never did. We made it to Lakes of the Clouds Hut just before 3:00 and had to beg for them to give us work-for-stay. In fact, the 3 thru-hikers who were right behind us in line got turned down and had to pay $15 to sleep in the dungeon under the hut. The biew here is nothing short of unbelievable when the clouds break for a second. If it actually clears up tonight I might just do a quick night-hike up to the summit of Mt. Washington. Just because I can.
Date: 2011-08-13
From: Lakes of the Clouds Hut

To: Day 93
Miles today: 6.1

I take it all back, I'm'a buy Doppler a beer next time I see him. I woke up this morning and it was clear and gorgeous out. After Art Gypsy and I swept out the entire hut ourselves, I set out to finally enjoy a nice day above tree-line. Night Patrol took a side trip and back-tracked up to Mt. Monroe so that we could see ll of the peaks that we blindly walked passed yesterday. I snapped a few pictures of the Lakes of the Clouds and went on to climb Mt. Fucking Washington. Goldy Locks and havoc showed up last night and they completely schooled me on the way up Washington. It must be nice to be just-now hitting puberty on your thru-hike.    The 360 degree panoramic view from the top of the tallest mountain in the Northeast is more beautiful that I can convey in words or photographs. I hung out for a long while on the summit. When I was eating at the snack bar, some younger townie approached me and commented on my pirate flag (which I was wearing like a cape at the time.) We get to talking and I realize that he's wearing a Camp Bisco wristband. Game time. So me, this townie, and Night Patrol find the most secluded spot we can and burn one.    I then climbed down Washington, but I got nervous and failed to moon the cog railway on the way. I went on to hit every single loop trail for every summit on the northern ridge, green-blazing and flying JR on top of each president. I finally get to Mt. Jefferson and decide to stay there to watch the sunset. Art Gypsy strolled by and joined me. We decided that since tonight is both the night of a full moon and a huge meteor shower, there is simply no way that we can't cowboy camp above tree-line to soak it all in, despite the legalities of it. It is wet and windy here, but the view is well worth it. Full moon. Shooting stars. Miles of jagged mountaintops rising thousands of feet above the trees. This has probably been my best day on trail yet. What a 3-MONTH ANNIVERSARY!
Date: 2011-08-14
From: Mt. Jefferson.

To: Day 94
Miles today: 8.7

God damned mother fucking New Hampshire. I woke up this morning feeling great after having the best day of hiking ever and a great night's sleep under the shooting stars. I burned a bowl with a random day hiker who happened to be walking by at the right time while Art Gypsy went ahead. Then I started heading down towards Madison Hut to do breakfast and hit the privy. Unfortunately, when I hit Thunderstorm Junction I followed the wrong string of rock cairns down the mountain and wound on the Great Gulf trail, not the Gulfside trail that I was supposed to be on. I lost about 1,200' of elevation before a local turned be around with the remark "I've never seen a thru-hiker that's crazy enough to take this trail, especially with a pack like that!" I was pissed, like, I hadn't been that angry in a while.    I finally got got back up to Thunderstorm Junction, got on the right path, and climbed back down the super easy .9 to Madison Spring Hut. I got there too late to get some of Art Gypsy's cheesecake breakfast so I ate bagels and cookies that the hut patrons kicked down to me instead. After recuperating for a bit I set off to make the sharp descent down to Parapet Brook.    At this point, the AT skirts the Great Gulf trail for a tenth of a mile and (apparently) turns on to the Madison Gulf trail to the west. I somehow manage to completely miss this turn and, for the second time today, get completely fucked by the Great Gulf trail! It spit me out on some cross-country ski trails that I followed for several miles until I found a map nailed to a tree. Using the map I was able to navigate to a parking lot and, from, there I was able to get to Hwy 16. I walk for a bit until I get to this little picnic area and stop to take a break. I yogi some fresh fruit and a cig from this guy who was there. Then I walk a bit more until I get to a campground that charges a fee. No problem. I simply bushwhacked my way int the woods a bit until I found a nice little brook and made camp. I'm awfully glad to have sewn-in bug netting on my hammock right about now because the mosquitoes outside right now are ridiculous. I know what it feels like to get lost twice in one day now.... It sucks to be a BLUE-BLAZER
Date: 2011-08-15
From: Ninja Campsite

To: Day 95
Miles today: 0.0

I very apparently need to rest, recoup, and get my shit together; The Whites have spun me out to the point of blue/yellow-blazing 4 miles of trail on accident. I broke camp and walked a few miles into Gorham, NH. I immediately Saw Goldie Locks and Havoc who gave me a shining review of the White Mountain Hostel. I went straight to the nearest gas station for some half/half and cheesecake danishes. There I ran in to Turn Around and had a quick safety meeting with him before I walked into town to run errands. I finally made my way to the White Mountain Hostel, which is essentially a fully-functioning Bead&Breakfast that caters to dirty hikers and only costs $25/night for a bunk. There are a lot of hikers here tonight too. The weather is pretty rainy and there seem to be a lot of old people and families who travel through these little New Hampshire trail-towns; people who can't do any real hiking but who still like to come dress up and spend money in the hostels so that they can get a sense of the lifestyle. I met some new folks and old folks here, like Smiley and Boulder. I'm currently working on my own personal 6-pack of Long Trail: Double Bag and bumming American Spirit rollies from Boulder. it's gonna be a good night.
Date: 2011-08-16
From: White Mountain Hostel

To: Day 96
Miles today: 0.0

Last night was the first time I've puked from alcohol since I was in Gainesville with Belle. I would have much preferred to have puked in the woods instead of a nice toilet in a public bathroom but oh well. Until next time Lont Trail: Double Bag. So I dragged myself out of bed this morning, ate a bomb breakfast, and got a ride into Gorham. My plan was to cash my check from working AllGood (that finally got to me!) buy myself some new poles, and stealth-camp at the base of Wildcat for the night. Well, my plan gets ruined when I go into a pizza place on my way out of town. I run into another NoBo at the bar names Neat Hawk so I decide to stay for happy hour and have a couple drinks. 2 pitchers later, we leave and head toward the outfitter. On my way there I happen to run into Pipe, whom I haven't seen since Dalton. He was able to catch up to me because of that 3-week break I took not long ago. The three of us proceed to go buy a round at every single bar in Gorham, including a Masnic speak-easy that let us drink after hours, before we wind up wasted at a Burger King at 3:00 AM. I sense impending trouble and politely excuse myself from the situation. I make it about a block and a half away before I find an unlocked ATM booth in the foyer of some bank and literally crash into my sleeping bag. What a way to spend my first DOUBLE-ZERO!
Date: 2011-08-17
From: unlocked bank

To: Day 97
Miles today: 11.2

Woke up today feeling pretty hung-over, but chipper having successfully had my first urban stealth-camping experience. Just like back in Springfield, I walked to the first Dunkin Donuts I could find and stared at a cup of coffee until I could feel feelings again. I made my peace with Gorham, walked back to NH 16, and stuck my thumb out. Out of dumb luck, the very 1st car that drove by was the shuttle bus from the White Mountain Hostel. Presto manifesto: free ride back to Pinkham Notch. I decided to take the easy way out and I chose not to backtrack and do that 4 miles that I skipped the other day. Instead, i just stuck with the shuttle group and headed straight for Wildcat.   It was nice to have the company of 3 odd, almost stereotypical NoBo's on the way up Wildcat though: a German girl who loves adventure, an old man who loves company, and a computer programmer who loves to be patronizing. It made for some fun banter even though the going was really tough and required some hand-over-hand scrambling. All 4 peaks of Wildcat, Carter Dome, Mt. Hight, Zeta pass, and both peaks of Carter Mt. were no joke. The views were nothing short of spectacular though, which made every footstep worth it. I kicked it at the Carter Notch Hut (my 8th and final hut) for a while before I went on. The plan was to avoid paying to camp at the Imp Campsite by stealthing on top of Mt. Moriah instead. The sun started to duck behind a mountain at 7:00 though and the temperature started to drop fast. So I stopped early when I came across a nice big flat rocky outcropping that the trail goes over. Portable G will be sleeping right in the middle of the AT tonight.
Date: 2011-08-18
From: Carter Mountain

To: Day 98
Miles today: 8.0

From my rocky bed, I was able to see both a spectacular sunset last night and a spectacular sunrise this morning without even having to leave my sleeping bag. My bed was a bit more rocky than it should have been this morning, however, because my air pad broke... again. Looks like I'll have to take a trip back to damn Gorham again at the next highway crossing. I'll try not to get hammered and stay there for 2 days this time. I had to fight to make it to the Rattle River Shelter today man. My energy level is super low for some reason. My legs ache like they've never ached in a while. My pack is always extra heavy when I come out of town, and I think I'm still getting used to having trekking poles again.    I didn't feel much like talking to the other thru-hiker in the shelter, so I just went and set up my hammock down by the river. I'm just swinging in my blackbird now, soaking in my own thoughts, eating cheesy Idahoan potatoes. I'm'a try to get to sleep early and get myself back on track tomorrow.
Date: 2011-08-19
From: Rattle River Shelter

To: Day 99
Miles today: 8.8

I actually got out of my hammock at 7:00 AM on my own this morning. My whole body was still abnormally sore, but it didn't matter, only 2 easy downhill miles until I can get right back where I started in Gorham, NH. That was motivation enough to get up early. The good night's sleep I got helped out a lot too. I hitched back to Gorham, contacted Big Agnes and backcountry.com, chatted with Belle, ate some Subway, bought a new camera, and got my ass back out of town in 3 hours total. Not too shabby. After that, I spent over an hour foraging for blueberries on top of Mt. Hayes. Some number of miles later I hit a little campground just as I start to hear thunder. I start to make camp in one of the empty sited and who do I see walking around? freakin Pipe. Him and I wind up chilling under my tarp for the entire duration of the rainstorm. We drink most of a bottle of scotch, chain-smoke menthol cigs, hash, and opium, exchange stories, and are generally rowdy until well-passed hiker midnight. I think I could get used toJOHNNY WALKER
Date: 2011-08-20
From: Trident Col Campground

To: Day 100
Miles today: 4.9

Got a late start this morning, probably because I was so intoxicated last night. Nothing out of the ordinary though. The weather cleared up, my body feels better, I'm ready to put in some miles. The miles are tough as hell but I'm so close to Maine that it doesn't even matter. I was gonna try to hike all the way to Maine today, in fact, but I got held up. As is tradition. It all happened at Gentian Pond Shelter. first, I met some day hikers with apples, weed, and big tits so I hing out with them for a while. Then, Pipe showed up and we started hanging out. Then a group of hilarious NoBos showed up: Pidgen, Mountain Dew, Zen, Clean Shave, and Spark Plug. So I decided to stay. it worked out in my favor though because I was able to trade one of the day hikers some opium for some weed. Tonight turned in to a wonderfully clear night too. There is a big clear-cut patch right in front of the shelter so one can get a view of the valley below from inside of the shelter. And, because of where we are in the canyon, there is so little light pollution that we can see individual spiral arms of the Milky Way. Incredible.    So far, we've managed to build a nice big illegal fire in front of the shelter and come up with a number of jokes about the size of the day hiker's dogs. It is pretty groovy. All of the NoBo's are pretty much on top of the world right now because they are about to enter the final state on the AT for them. We're all acting pretty high and mighty in front of the SoBo's and the section hikers. I guess you have a right to be a little patronizing when you've hiked 1,900 miles non-stop.
Date: 2011-08-21
From: Gentian Pond Shelter

To: Day 101
Miles today: 5.2

WOW. My home state is a wild, dangerous, untamed, spiteful, bitch. After a pretty slow-moving but comical morning which involved making fun of day-hikers to their faces and chatting with a Ridge Runner who busted up our fire ring from last night, I get back on-trail around 9:00, leaving Pipe behind. I was trying to get to Mahoosuc Notch today, the fabled 'most difficult mile' on the AT, but I kept literally getting my ass kicked by the trail. I slipped and smashed my hip on a rock and aggravated my bad knee in the last mile of NH. Then I had a really scary close call in the first half-mile of Maine. I lost my footing when I was climbing down a boulder and started to fall off of it backwards. Somehow I managed blindly wedge one of my poles into a rock crevice behind me while I was falling and buy myself just enough time to jump up and grab onto a tree root with my other hand. If it wasn't for that trekking-pole-related miracle that happened this morning, I would definitely be sleeping in a hospital bed tonight and not my hammock.   I was pretty shaken up by the time I got to the Carlo Col Shelter. Thankfully, the 5 crazy NoBo's that I stated the day with were there too, just as shaken up as I was. They had been there for over an hour waiting for a rainstorm to hit so they'd have an excuse to not hike anymore. I decided to join them and, together, we decided to hiker under the principle of "Near0 the North" from now on. Big miles are for wimps and showoffs. We didn't come this far to just get hurt and have to go back home. The 6 of us holed up in the shelter and spent the rest of the day cracking jokes, sharing food, and watching the rain (that did eventually come.) We all went to bed at like 7:00 PM. It rocked.   It's close to 10:00 and I still can't sleep, however, because I'm just too excited about actually making it this far, about being in Maine, about having hiked almost 1,000 miles already, about a lot of things. Just like how getting on the AT seemed like an unattainable goal when I was in college, making it to Maine seemed like an unattainable goal when I got on the AT; something I'd never quite reach. And, practically speaking, someone with no money and no experience like myself shouldn't have made it even half this far. I feel naturally high. I'm filled with this energy that just keeps washing over my body in rhythmic waves. I think it might have something to do with the fact that I was born in this state and haven't been here since I was 6 or 7. I had complexly forgotten how rugged and wonderful this place is. It's good to be HOME!
Date: 2011-08-22
From: Carlo Col Shelter

To: Day 102
Miles today: 5.1

Maine is fucking insane. I really didn't expect the terrain to be this tough. i was the last one out of the shelter this morning, as is tradition. All the other guys were shooting for pizza in Bethel, ME, but I figured that I should just go deal with the notch and take it from there. I did make a trade with Zen before he left and got some American Spirit rollies though. Much needed for hiking conditions like these. The trail was steep, rocky, muddy, and slick, pretty dangerous in fact. Coming down Goose Eye Mountain I tried to jump onto a footbridge and missed my landing. I wound up buried up to my waist in a freezing mud pit. No good. When I was above timber-line I could see a rainstorm dumping on the adjacent ridge so I hauled ass to the Full Goose Shelter and kicked it with Muffin Man while the storm blew over. Then I took off for the notch.    I ran into Art Gypsy and the Ridge Runner from yesterday on the south side. They wished me luck and I went off into the chasm. The 1-mile long Mahoosuc Notch took me a full 2.5 hours to get through. It was like nothing I've ever seen before. It's literally a pile of boulders ranging from about the size of an automobile to about the size of an apartment building that are literally all wedged in a giant chasm between two sheer cliffs. Unbelievable. I even rescued a couple of section hikers who were stuck at the base of a boulder with no way up. The wife had fallen and bashed up her head pretty good so there were getting ready to just camp there in the notch until they could get help. With a little bit of effort and a lot of balance, we were able to work their gear up the boulder and lift the injured party to safety.   By the time I made it out of the notch the sun was setting and I was exhausted so I just flew my hammock right on the bank of Bull Branch; decided to save the 1,000' climb ans Speck Pond Shelter for tomorrow morning. I can see why they call that theTOUGHEST MILE.
Date: 2011-08-23
From: Bull Branch

To: Day 103
Miles today: 6.9

I made a good choice by deciding to just camp by the north end of the notch last night. It was really nice to blow around in the breeze right next to the running water of Bull Branch all night. What was even nicer is that I woke up to a group of SoBo's who had stopped at the branch to fill up on water and smoke a bowl. I got out of my hammock and offered to pack some hash on top of their bowl; they obliged. It worked out in my favor because I made another sale and traded for a nugget. Great way to start the day. I then proceeded to hike 2.5 long, tough miles up to Speck Pond, the highest pond in Maine. I chilled and did 1st lunch in the shelter and as I started to leave, just like yesterday, it started to rain on me. So, keeping with my 'Near0 the North' philosophy, I backtracked to Speck Pond and smoked weed with some NoBo's named Moxie and Onager and a couple of SoBo's.    I took off again after the rain died down and was feeling so chipper that I even did a side-trail to the top of Old Speck Mt. to check out a fire tower. Then, when I was dropping 2,500' to Grafton Notch, I managed to break the tip off one of my brand new trekking poles. No worries though. I get to the parking lot at the notch, get hooked up with trail magic in the form of candy, get a hitch into Bethel, ME in less than 5 mins, get my pole repaired for free at True North Adventurewear, buy an XL "cardiac arrest" pizza and a sixer of local microbrew IPA, chat with belle for about an hour, and hitch back to the trail head just after nightfall. Back home, I meet a SoBo who had found himself a nice little stealth campsite on the south side of ME 26. I join him and we proceed to eat, drink, and smoke for the rest of the night.WINNING.
Date: 2011-08-24
From: Grafton Notch

To: Day 104
Miles today: 9.5

Another really late start this morning. I ate pizza for breakfast, smoked several bowls, drank a beer, chatted about Metaphysics, and played a game of chess with the SoBo before I packed up. It was time well spent. So today is Wednesday. The P.O. where my next mail drop is closes at 5:00 PM tomorrow for the weekend. And I am still offer 40 miles from Rangeley, ME. Those are the facts, cold and hard. it's time to start doing big miles again... for the first time since I got back on-trail. Luckily, the terrain eased up substantially in terms of difficulty. No more crazy technical rock faces every 250 yards. The climb up and down Baldpate Mt. was, dare I say, pretty fun. It was beautiful, easy, and much safer than what I'm used to. I get to Fry Notch and see friggin Pipe at the lean-to building a fire. I was gonna break for 10 mins to smoke a cig and read the register. But I ended up there for over an hour drinking Pipe's scotch, my beer, smoking bowls, and chillin hard before I motivate myself to hike out. I'm just proud of the fact that I made it out of there in the first place; I was drunk as a skunk by the time I start climbing out of there. I was still pretty set on hiking down t the road that takes you to Andover, ME, but I was stopped dead in my tracks when I got to Dunn Falls. I found a site that is just too beautiful to pass up and set up my hammock up right in between two forks of a WATERFALL
Date: 2011-08-25
From: Dunn Notch

To: Day 105
Miles today: 10.9

Yesterday, Pipe put in my head (other than scotch) the idea that I might be able to make it to Rangeley, ME in one day if I pull over in Andover, get a ride up to Rangeley, get a bunk in a hostel, and slack-pack the 36 miles between Andover and Rangeley. I woke up this morning convinced that this is what I'm gonna do. So I smoked a bowl, took some pics of Dunn Falls, and strolled down the .8 miles to the road crossing. Lucky for me, the guy who runs the High 5 Hostel was already on his way to the trail head to pick up some other hikers. I let a note for Pipe at the trail head, waited for the High 5 guy to get there, and inquired about the slack. He said " Up here, dead presidents rule the world" and told me that a ride to Rangeley would cost me $80. So much for the friendly old hippy hostel owner that I had imagined, this guy is a greedy capitalist just like the rest of em'.    I change my plans and hike 5 more miles to the Hall Mountain Lean-to, where I stop because of the rain. I waited for over an hour for the rain to stop. It never did. So I hikes another 5 miles to South Arm Road, the other road leading to Andover. I paused there for a while because I got cell reception so I called my dad to get a weather update. While I was on the phone, two very freaked out SoBo's emerged from the woods and start desperately trying to hitch to a hotel an Andover. Here's what I learned at the road crossing today: The High 5 guy really is an asshole and his hostel isn't that great. The folks at The Cabin are much nicer and super helpful to thru-hikers. A ride to Rangeley costs $75 minimum from all of the hostels in town. There was a big EARTHQUAKE in Virginia a couple days ago. And there is a big HURRICANE due to hit us here in Maine a couple of days from now. A hurricane in the Northeast? This freak climactic event is just what I need right now. After the SoBo's left, I hiked a quick .5 miles to Black Brook. Now I'm sitting here staring at a bowl of mashed potatoes trying to figure out what I should do. Do I hitch into Andover and hunker down for several days? Do I try to haul ass to Rangeley before the hurricane gets here? Or do I just pretend like the hurricane doesn't exist and go on like usual? Tough decisions on a chilly summer night.