morvasaaty/AppalachianTrail-LD-Hikers-Blogs-and-Weather-20-years huggingface dataset:
Date: 2008-07-22
From: Wawayanda Shelter

To: Wildcat Shelter
Miles today: 12.0
Weather: few clouds

Grey morning, scant water. Crossed into New York early in the day. Gnarled pines, dark red rocks laced with veins of quartz, rounded pink boulders, much scrambling, even one rockface with a ladder up it. Some SOBO¢s warned us about a yellow jacket nest in the trail. I was worried, made Oats go ahead to look for them, but I still got stung. Fleeting moment of hysteria before focusing on what needed to be done, taking benadryl, Oats administering the epinepherine injection. Pain, then, rush, heart fast-pumping,hands shaking, disoriented. Sat in the shade trying to relax. Bigglesworth hiked up and gave us her phone just in case. Old Man came by, stopped for awhile. No reaction to the venom. Johnny Thunder and his dad hiked up, and gave me water. Decided that it was time to keep hiking. Made my way shakily down the trail, feeling very odd. Reached the road crossing, stopped at the ice cream stand, tasty lime sorbet. Chugged a ton of water. Still not feeling normal. Hiked on to the next shelter, up over craggy rocks, buzzard nest on an outcropping. It began spitting rain. No water at the shelter.   Made a fire after the rain let up, roasted ears of corn. Slept, even though it was only five o¢clock, exhausted from the day¢s trauma. Bilge Rat showed up, and I awoke to talk to him awhile before falling into a hazy, drugged sleep.
Date: 2008-07-23
From: Wildcat shelter

To: Tiorati Lake Pavilion
Miles today: 15.0

Wet morning, slippery footing. Constant ups and downs seems to be par for the course in NY. That and boulders. And drought. Even though it¢s pouring rain on us, the blueberries are all shriveled, it¢s hard to find s water source. Hiking is a headache, always I am tired. Bright orange red efts everywhere, one climbing a tree, starkly contrasting against the black pine bark. Steep climb over wet boulders up a 40 degree incline. Almost fell backwards when my pack got caught on a tree. Windy. Called mom and aunt Ellen from a payphone at the road crossing, making plans for going to Tim and Ellen¢s place in Highland Falls. I didn¢t have it in me to scramble through the Lemon Squeezer, so I roadwalked to Lake Tiorati, the road winding through stately pine forests, green swamplands, deer grazing everywhere. Beat everyone else to the lake. Found a perfectly good deli sandwich in a trash can, got awesome mango soda from a vending machine. The others arrived, and we tried to get ahold of Ellen with no success. A torrential rain storm began, vivid lightning strikes. We finally decided against hiking on, huddled in the picnic pavillion. Slept snuggled up to the soda machine for warmth. Slept surprisingly soundly.
Date: 2008-07-24
From: Lake Tiorati Pavilion

To: Bear Mtn. state park (Highland Falls)
Miles today: 14.0

New York is bizarre. Wet morning, ached all over after sleeping on the cement floor of the pavilion. Cold and soaked, really wanting to be home, dry. The wind was driving rain down onto me as the trail skirted the edge of an exposed ridgeline. Slippery footing. Faugh. Finally caught the others on top of a mountain. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and I stopped to eat lunch, commiserate with the other girls about the shit weather. The sun finally appeared, spirits lifted, everything was transformed. Beautiful views of Bear Mountain¢s salmon-covered cliffs, the Hudson River. Aspen trees, leaves prematurely yellowed, carpeting the ground. Straight white trunks like sentinels. The climb up Bear wasn¢t hard at all, all orangey pink gently sloping rock faces, laurel trees, blueberry bushes. Sweeping views from the lookout tower on the summit. Satisfying. Long climb down the mountain, loose scree, dirt. Reached the Bear Mtn. park in the Hudson valley, the trail cutting through the center of the zoo, gawking and being gawked at by tourists, captive bears frolicking in their pool, all the animals we¢ve been seeing in the wild on display for the domesticated general public to gawp at. Huge porcupine making strange porcupine noises. Walked across the Hudson to the little PO where Slayer had a maildrop. Called Ellen, who sent Uncle Timmy to pick us up, take us back to their house. We showered and did laundry, Timmy ran us to buy groceries, beer. Back at the house, Ellen had ordered a massive meal from a local BBQ joint, half chickens, cornbread, sweet potato fries, slaw and baked beans. So full. Packed up the leftovers for lunch tomorrow. Slept cozy on the couch.
Date: 2008-07-25
From: Bear Mtn. bridge (Highland Falls)

To: Campsite near Dennytown Rd.
Miles today: 15.0
Weather: clear sky

Slept in. Timmy took us to breakfast, then dumped us back at the trail. Fuled by caffeeine and french toast, we headed across the bridge over the shining Hudson River and began climbing up out of the valley. The sun was hot, but it wasn¢t too humid. Feeling good¢¦.amazing what a good night¢s sleep will do for morale. Took a lunch break at the Greymoor Friary, eating leftover chicken. Hiked onwards through the dying day, making slow progress, stopping constantly to eat juicy blueberries. Tiny frogs were jumping everywhere. Reached a water pump at dusk, stopping to fill our bottles and wait for Slayer to catch up. Seems the worst is behind us, as far as water scarcity. We ate the rest of the chicken, bananas, and found a perfect campsite in a gully nearbye.   We built a little fire, then cowboy camped in the soft leaf litter. Just as we were beginning to drift off to sleep, we heard a terrific crack¢¦a creaking¢¦then a thump and the crash of a falling tree.   Slept deeply, otherwise. The bugs weren¢t too bad.
Date: 2008-07-26
From: Dennytown Rd.

To: Campsite near Rt. 52
Miles today: 16.5

Up with the sun, feeling surprisingly beat. Saw that the tree that had fallen the night before came down very close to Oats¢ bedroll. Another banana with PB for breakfast. There wasn¢t too much climbing, for a change, the trail even followed an old road bed for a ways. Met up with Oats and Slayer at the road crossing, a lake laid out invitingly in front of us¢¦we hiked on around it, looking for a good place to get down to the shore. We found a trail down to the beach area finally, and ditched our packs before scrambling down a steep cliff to the water¢s edge. Iced tea brown water filled with aquatic weeds. The area was packed with vacationers and their rowdy children. We took a quick dip, then scrambled back up the cliff to our packs. Bloody hot. No really drinkable water. A super-abundance of good blueberries, though. I started bleeding, which justified the morning¢s exhaustion. Finally came to a side trail with a ¢water¢ sign. The trail opened out into a clearing with a nice pump and a table with beer and several peaches on it. We each chugged a beer, then shared out the peaches, savouring their perfect ripeness. We reached RPH shelter and took another long break, Oats taking a nap, until a wholly annoying man showed up and began to bother us. We decided to hike on. On the way up the next mountain, we ran into members of the work crew that maintains that section of trail. Good bunch of guys. Shortly after talking to them, we came upon a cooler full of cokes and fruit. The climb up the mountain didn¢t seem so bad, even though it was followed by another equally steep one. New York is strange¢there was a flock of plastic pink flamingos in the middle of some rocks at the top of the mountain. We reached the Rt. 52 crossing, and walked a half mile to a little Danny¢s Pizza. We bought a half gallon of butter pecan ice cream, and shared that while waiting for our pizza. Fully gorged, we walked back to the trail. The sun had disappeared, and Oats picked up some reflectors from the side of the road and stuck them in her pack frame so the cars could see us. We nighthiked a ways until we found water, then we found the flattest spot possible and pitched camp. It began to rain, and I was glad I¢d taken the time to put up my tarp.
Date: 2008-07-27
From: Campsite near Rt. 52

To: Wiley Shelter
Miles today: 20.2
Weather: heavy intensity rain

Poured rain all night, but I stayed dry. Slugs all over my tarp, big yellow ones. It was hard getting started in the damp morning, stiff joints. Saw a buzzard sitting on a rock, watching me. Finally arrived at Nuclear Lake, a rippled expanse of lonely water surrounded by rock outcroppings and pristine meadows. Took a long lunch break, followed by a plunge into the surprisingly deep lake. The joy of being water-bound. Hiking on along the shore, dead deer floating in the lake, bloated. Began to rain again about a quarter mile from the shelter. Oats was far ahead, and Slayer and I hurry-slipped over wet rocks to take cover and wait out the worst of the thunderstorm. The rain slacked off a bit, and we hiked on, reaching the road crossing near the girlthy Dover Oak, the largest tree on the AT. Got water from a spigot at a purple house. Hiking onwards, listening to Waits¢ ¢Old 55¢, the rain began again in earnest. Kept in good spirits, the sun turning the clouds purple through the rain, wet flower-smell in the fields. The trail turned and went downwards through prematurely dark pine forests. Flat terrain. Rain on my hair, fogging my glasses. Note from Barakus at the NY train station, simply, ¢Gone drinking.¢ Stopped to talk to trail maintainer Sasquatch at the road crossing nearbye. More lightining. Slayer caught up¢she¢d fallen on her face while crossing the slick puncheons through the swamp. Onwards through easy fields, concerned cows watching or progres, corn leaves slick with rain. Stiff climbing over pasture stiles. Began to crash on the climb up to the ridge and had to stop for some emergency PB. The ridge itself was slick with mud, slowing progress. Found some Hen of the Forest mushroom. Odd fungi everywhere. Uncomfortable chill evening. Reached the shelter in a damp fog. Rama and Sita are tenting nearbye, and the three of us have the shelter to ourselves. Glop for dinner. Stiff sleeping.
Date: 2008-07-28
From: Wiley Shelter

To: campsite past Kent, CT
Miles today: 13.4

Painful walking. Everything hurts. Finally crossed the border into CT. Bright sun-soaked morning. After six miles, we reached a shelter site where we wasted a half hour trying to find the pump. Drank run off from the rain instead. The Housatonic River was a muddy, churning torrent. So much undrinkable water. Followed the river a ways, a lovely stroll alongside the raging rapids. A chain of long, pointless climbs up and over small mounds of rock. Seemed like it took forever to gain the ridge. Progress was impeded by blueberries, again,. Stopped by a crystaline brook cascading down the mountainside. Took a spongebath, soaked my tired ankles. Met back up with Oats at the road crossing, and the three of made the long road walk into the prissy little town of Kent. Worst trail town of all¢¦.too many fake antique stores, expensive restaurants, college kids on crappy motorcycles. It¢s yuppie hell, and no place for a dirty bum. Got our maildrop and a half gallon of ice cream. Ran into Cookie Monster, and sat on a bench eating our ice cream and making faces at the yuppies. We had a quick dinner of budweiser and wings at the local bar, the most hiker-friendly place in town, before hauling our too-heavy packs up the mountain as the sun set, cotton candy clouds. We hiked into the night until we found a stealth site near water. Slept horribly on uneaven ground, getting attacked by centipedes and mosquitos all night.
Date: 2008-07-29
From: Campsite near Kent

To: Sharon Mtn. Campsite
Miles today: 20.0
Weather: scattered clouds

Up just after sunrise to hike up to St. John¢s Cliffs. Cookie, Cous Cous and Motorbutt were camped near the summit. Pink rocky slope tinted with sea green lichen. Sat watching the fog nestled between the mountains slowly melting away. Jarring tumble over huge boulders down off the mountain, rewarded by a flat river walk alongside the Housatonic. Met SOBO Chatterbox, stood around swapping stories before parting ways. We blue-blazed into Cornwall Bridge, roadwalking to the liquor store where the owners give free beer to hikers. Sat out front and ate our lunch, drank a lot of water. We made good time down the trail, up and over piney mountains. A white light tinged with green. The forest punctuated by clear brooks. Took a chocolate break at the bug-infested Pine Swamp shelter. Feeling really great from the sugar boost. Hiked swiftly through the evening cool over gem-like rocks to Sharon Mtn. Campsite. Startled a bobcat that was walking in the trail. It turned to look at me with its human-like face before dashing off into the forest. The bugs were thick and vicious. Otherwise, it was the perfect campsite, nice and flat, beautiful stream nearbye. I stripped down to bathe in the icy water, hurrying back into my clothes as the mosquitos attacked me. We broke the fire ban to make a small smudge fire to keep some of the little monsters at bay. Had a heaping pot of mac n cheese for dinner. Bugs biting constantly, in spite of constant applications of repellent. Swollen lip from a mosquito bite. Sore tendons in the knees. I¢m somewhat worried about whether or not they¢ll hold up through the Whites. Going up or down steep inclines hurts a lot.
Date: 2008-07-30
From: Sharon Mtn. Campsite

To: Brassie Brook Lean-To
Miles today: 18.6

Last day in CT. Blew through the state, even though the terrain wasn¢t the friendliest. Up in the bleak morning, driven from my sleeping bag by marauding mosquitos. Stiff. Green, perfectly manicured lawns break up the forested valley, race track below where Paul Newman once raced. Miles rolled past easily, even though the trail was doing stupid things, pushing through tangled shrubs, overgrown brush on the edge of a corn field instead of a much shorter road walk. There are times when I appreciate being off busy roads, but at times the road would be a much more logical route. Treed a porcupine, rattling quills on its back moving in a mass like a backpack on a hikers back. He climbed up to a ¢safe¢ branch in a dead tree. Afraid of getting stung by bees. Stopped at Housatonic Hydroelectric Plant, showerhead sticking out of the vine covered side of the maintenance shed. Soaped up, cold shower, cooked lunch before hiking on. Great Falls was swollen by all the recent rain, a thundering cataract. Piney slopes forever going upwards, bark falling off dead trees in scales like broken red clay tiles littering the ground. Came to a clearing, hay rollers in a wide field, the mountains in panorama, undulating ranges, choppy mountains. Steep narrow rocky fall back down to the Housatonic Valley. Startled a whole flock of turkey, they flew off gawkily to roost in the pines, leaving behind large wing feathers. Took a long break in the cemetery, talked to a man from a nearby nursing home who wished he could still be hiking in the mountains. Made me really have to rethink my recent frustrating with hiking. Hard climb up to the bouldery summit of Lion¢s Head was rewarded with lovely hazy views. Fast run to Brassie Brook Lean-To, Sherpa Dan was there. Great mossy cascading brook. Bathed in the cool water.
Date: 2008-07-31
From: Brassie Brook Lean-To

To: Great Barrington
Miles today: 17.3
Weather: light rain

Grey-fogged morning.   Climb up Bear Mt. not too hard, up to the brushy summit. Great rock slabs covered by thick masses of blueberry bushes. Threw down our packs to gorge on the fruit, then began the steep slippery rock scramble down to Sage¢s Ravine. The ravine was the most achingly beautiful spot on the trail. Tall old growth evergreens, Hemlock and Balsam Fir, White Pines, crystal clear river cascading along besides the trail, ferns and moss, morning light streaming through the mist which hung like a fine silk curtain, rippled in the air. Stopped to take a dip in the frigid water. Lovely thundering waterfalls, exquisite white water. Passed into MA, hesitating to leave the valley. Race Mtn. was beautiful, too, its lower slopes blanketed thickly by a red tangle of pine needles, trunks towering above. The summit sprawled out in a long pinkish ridge of bare rock punctuated by wind-twisted pines and scrubby blueberry bushes laden with fruit. Flying insects were everywhere, and I was afraid of getting stung. The trail fell into a swampy valley before scrambling up Mt. Everett, water in rivulets over the rockface, scrambling up granite slopes. Summit socked in by fog. The three of us stopped for a break at the bottom, some section hikers gave us fresh cherries. Lots of water in the trail, pine groves, steep climb down from Jug End, like the world just dropped off, to a wonderfully flat valley. Stately pines, storm clouds moving in over the farmlands, Berkshires majestic blue in the greying light. Nearly dark beneath thick pine groves, mosquitos so rampant I couldn¢t even stop for a drink of water. Cornfields, hay rollers, green mowed fields. Met Oats and White Lightning at the road crossing for Great Barrington. ¢The Corn Crib,¢ little greenhouse near the trail. The friendly owner-lady¢s very friendly, lets hikers sleep in the greenhouse. We bought ourselves pints of ice cream from a local creamery, delicious coffee. Bilge Rat showed up, and we started hitching into town. Oats and I had to walk away before we got a ride, so we had to run around for awhile before we found the others at a diner where we stuffed ourselves on real food¢tasty burrito loaded with guacamole, veggies, beef. A group of SOBO¢s came in, and we sat around chatting with them, swapping info and horror storries. Bilge made himself napkin breasts and scared the locals. Wandered into a candy/novelty store, tried samples, sprayed ourselves with all the perfume testers (scents like ¢Dirt,¢ ¢Funeral Home,¢ and ¢Glue¢). Went to the theater to see ¢Batman,¢ got bottomless buckets of popcorn and hurried to eat it all before showtime so we could get refills.The movie was awesome. We all did a can-can dance for some locals outside. It was pathetic. The cops yelled at us for hitching, so we had to walk the two miles back to the Corn Crib, where we set up our bedrolls on the floor of the greenhouse. Stars were out in force, and we stayed up late sharing whiskey.
Date: 2008-08-01
From: Great Barrington

To: North Wilcox Shelter
Miles today: 13.0
Weather: scattered clouds

Ginger-flavoured ice cream and stale popcorn for breakfast. The hike was mostly uphill, felt like it took forever, but Ice Gorge, a deep fissure surrounded by tall old pines, was beautiful. Met the others at Benedict Pond, too shallow to really swim, but the water felt good and we lounged around for hours napping, reading and drinking whiskey. Half Elvis and Banjo hiked up and we all headed for North Wilcox shelter, passing still beaver ponds, slender brooks along the way. The mood at the shelter was festive, and we built a huge fire, cooked a hearty meal of lentils with the Vidalia onions I¢d gotten at Corn Crib. Lazy, easy 13 mile day.
Date: 2008-08-02
From: North Wilcox Shelter

To: Upper Goose Pond
Miles today: 15.0
Weather: broken clouds

Overcast morning. Coming down off a mountain, I ran into Tank, hiking up. He asked if I wanted a beer, so I stopped for a drink. Eventually, the others hiked up, and we all sat in the trail chatting and drinking. Tank had his car down at a nearby road crossing, so we decided to send Bilge into town with him to pick up food to cook at Full Goose cabin. The rest of us waited for them by the road,.Half Elvis made a sign, ¢Thirsty Hiker Need Beer¢ to show all the passing cars. No one stopped. Eventually, they returned with about 80 hot dogs, chili, spray cheese, snack cakes and sacks of McDonald¢s hamburgers for lunch. We split up the food, then began the march to the cabin. Part way up the mountain, it began to rain on us. Fortunately, it wasn¢t too cold, even though the steep climb was difficult in the slick mud. We reached the cabin, a great place with padded bunks, a huge fireplace, a dock on the lake with canoes. Felt like summer camp. Bilge and Oats and I piled in to the canoe to row across the lake to the spring and fill up the cabin¢s water jugs. We went swimming, then built a huge fire and began roasting weenies. Tank broke out his famous mint julep, more beers. Achilles, Thoughtfoot, Animal and Vegas showed up, and we stuffed them full of hotdogs, too. It began to rain, so we moved the hot coals into the fireplace indoors and built up a good blaze. Dry and comfortable, we sat around listening to the thunder while White Lightning read us passages from trashy romance novels. Tetris showed up soaked, and we got together the leftovers from dinner for him. A very good day.
Date: 2008-08-03
From: Upper Goose Pond

To: Dalton
Miles today: 21.0
Weather: light rain

The caretaker of the cabin made pancakes and coffee for us before we set out into the wet morning. It took awhile to get a good pace going on the muddy trail. The woods were full of strange mushrooms, vibrant yellows, iridescent puroles, deadly amanitas, orange and white, huge shelf fungi, some clustered like pale vegetable tentacles, others like branching coral. Red efts swarmed the wet ground, and I kept stopping to move them out of the trail, mooning Tank in the process. Kept up with Oats, talking about films and ¢disposable literature.¢ We stopped at the Cookie Lady¢s house to get water and some of her famous cookies. We crested the summit of Warner Mountain, paper birch trees rising lithely through masses of tall ferns, huge blueberry bushes pregnant with fruit. We took a long break to pick the berries, the mountains in the distance all postcard blues and purples, storm clouds hovering heavy above. The climb off the mountain was very picturesque, groves of beech trees with trunks like quiet cement pillars, the light all cool and distant filtered through their membranous leaves. One ugly, unexpected uphill climb, then we plunged down into the town of Dalton. Met Tank by the railroad tracks near some trail magic sodas which we drank before heading in to town. Stopped at Tom Levardi¢s house to talk to Micro, have a beer. We had the attendant (who shared his eggrolls with us) at the Shell station call Rob at the infamous ¢Birdcage¢¢¦while waiting for a ride, we ran over to the motel where Babu was staying and harassed him for awhile. Rob¢s son came to pick us up, and once at Rob¢s place, we unloaded our gear into his garage, the attic of which was filled with cots and mattresses. In fact, Rob¢s whole house is full of beds, one big hiker flophouse. We got a shower and changed into clean clothes while Rob did our laundry, then drove us to the Homestyle Buffet for AYCE. Daisy was there, as well as a ton of other hikers. Rob¢s got two of the sweetest dogs, both pitbulls with temperments like kittens.
Date: 2008-08-04
From: Dalton

To: Dalton
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: light rain

Zeroed! Cereal for breakfast, followed by a second breakfast at the Dalton Diner. Cheapest place in New England, not to mention the best omelete I¢ve had all trail, loaded with cheese and meat and veggies. Tetris had been given some money by a nice lady who must have thought he was a poor little hobo, so we bought ice cream and Old Crow for everyone. Cooked fresh blueberry pancakes, sat around drinking, taking a break to go back to the buffet. The hostel was packed, SOBO¢s SweetSweet and The Hungarian adding to the insanity. Watched stupid 80¢s films, talking loudly, Rob playing guitar. Sat at the kitchen table talking to Tetris and drawing. This place feels like home.