morvasaaty/AppalachianTrail-LD-Hikers-Blogs-and-Weather-20-years huggingface dataset:
Date: 2017-07-04
From: Stealth camp before Mt Wolf, NH

To: Lonesome Lake Hut, NH
Miles today: 10.9
Weather: scattered clouds

I slept for seven hours, apart from one visit to the bushes for a pee at 3:40am, a side effect of the steroids I'm taking. Amazingly, I went back to sleep for a couple of hours. I got on the trail at 8. The climb up Mt Wolf was straightforward, and was followed by the drop down to the Eliza Brook Shelter. I stopped in for a rest and to sign the register. The trail followed the Eliza Brook for almost a mile. There were several pools that beckoned to me and ordinarily I'd have jumped in, but my goal was to get to a campsite another 11 miles away, so I felt I didn't have time to waste. The climb up to Mt Kinsman was very tough. It was bouldery. At times I was having to throw my poles ahead of me and use tree trunks and branches to haul myself up. Inevitably, I fell. And fell again. I was lucky both times to come away with fairly superficial cuts and bruises, although my right hip hurt for the rest of the day. The views from Kinsman were stunning. I wished I had someone knowledgeable with me to show me which of the nearby peaks were on the AT. I struggled on the downhill, which was almost as bad as Moosilauke, with many wooden steps and rebar rungs inserted. Malink caught me and suggested I stay at the AT hut that was coming up. It has a full-time staff, separate cabins for guests, and serves breakfast and dinner. I called in and enquired about a work-for-stay possibility. (I can afford to pay to stay, but I'm intent on doing and trying, at least once, as many separate parts of the AT experience as possible.) So I got free food once all the paying guests were fed, and in return I chipped the ice off the back of the freezer and washed the shelves. Now I'm getting ready to lay out my mattress on the floor and get into my sleeping bag. The only other WFS thru-hiker here is Forrest, whom I last saw a few weeks ago. He's a tattoo artist, and routinely hikes 30-40 miles a day. Milestones: Today was the end of my 15th week on the trail. I dropped under 400 miles to go, and shortly after that passed the 1,800 miles completed mark. I have ascended the equivalent of 13 Everests. I took my 5th and 6th zero days. My average pace to date including zeros is just over 17 miles per day. And I'm finally in the dreaded Whites, and so far they are living up to their reputation for toughness. Tipperary
Date: 2017-07-05
From: Lonesome Lake Hut, NH

To: Galehead Hut, Whites, NH
Miles today: 16.0
Weather: light rain

I was up early and was on the trail by 6:51. Forrest, my companion on the floor of the dining room for the night, had been as quiet as a mouse. But my back left me struggling to sleep as every position seemed uncomfortable. Forrest was gone by around 6, with the intent of getting into the Presidential range of mountains by day's end after a hike of 34 miles. The initial three miles were downhill and followed a river. Much of the trail was easy. It went under an interstate and started the climb from about 1,400 feet to Mt. Lafayette at almost 5,300. It was 6.4 miles. There were many rocky sections but they were not challenging and I was taking it easy. Then the trail broke onto a ridge above the treeline, and the views back towards Mt. Kinsman and forward to some of the linked peaks we would be climbing today were revealed - Little Haystack, Mt. Lincoln and Mt. Lafayette. At last I got to wear my hat again for shade, and my sun shirt got to fulfill its function. The climb along the ridge was by AT standards crowded, with close to thirty day hikers enjoying the exercise, the sun and the views. Billy Goat, who'd been at the hut last night, caught me almost at the start of the ridge, and we hiked together for the rest of the day. He's 59, a retired government worker. He was an advisor on various foreign affairs to Bill Clinton, George Bush and even for a while to Barack Obama. He knows a lot about a lot of political matters. After Mt. Lafayette we had to drop elevation and then climb Mt. Garfield. The drop from that peak was hard and technical, as was the climb back up to reach Galehead Hut. It may have been the longest 2.2 miles of the AT, but that stunning set of peaks and the views they gave us made this day possibly my favorite of the whole AT so far. In total we climbed about 6,200 feet. That may be lower than many days' results in the early part of my AT hike, but the conditions down south did not include the technical rock-climbing we have to do in the Whites (or, indeed, any rock-climbing) and our distances covered were higher. The Hut was not full when we arrived around 7:30. but there were far more guests than last night's hut. I paid to stay. The views of the mountains surrounding us were regal, especially with an almost-full moon presiding. I'm sharing a bunk room with Billy Goat, who swears he doesn't snore. Tipperary
Date: 2017-07-06
From: Galehead Hut, Whites, NH

To: Stealth camp on Webster Cliffs, Whites, NH
Miles today: 16.6
Weather: overcast clouds

I had a really good night's sleep. During the night someone from another bunk room, fed up with another sleeper's snoring, came in and joined Billy Goat and me in our room. Luckily all three of us were non-snorers. We had a leisurely getting-up as breakfast was not until 7. Three of the staff sang a song to guitar accompaniment in the corridor outside the bunk rooms. Breakfast was good and copious. I had four large bowls of cranberry oatmeal with canned peach slices, followed by bacon and lots of scrambled eggs. There was hot chocolate and coffee. When I finally waddled onto the trail, it was 8:15. I hardly needed to eat anything else all day. The day was sunny. There was a steep climb of 1,100 feet almost straight away to the top of South Twin Mountain; it had tricky technical stretches but nothing super-dangerous. At the top I thought I had a phone signal and could update my journal but the signal came and went, and so did I. Once over the summit, there was a long descent to the Zealand Falls Hut. During that phase, I overtook a kilt-wearing and axe-carrying hiker called Medieval. He says that when he comes to smaller downed trees blocking the trail, he chops them up. I stopped to view the falls, and got a hiking couple, Kelly and Kevin, to take my picture there. They were very interested in my hike and asked for my journal details. After I left them, the trail leveled out and became quite enchanting, with nary a root or rock. It felt utterly extraordinary. The trail passed above and then through a boulder field. I met Downward Cow going SOBO. He explained why, but other people's hiking rationales are always so boring, don't you find? So I promptly forgot his explanation. After a couple of miles the trail started to love some of its pristine levelness, but it remained reasonable and was never unwelcome, here in the killer Whites. I had plannned on stopping at a campsite but my time was so good that I decided to press on. I climbed towards Mt Webster, but after about 2,500 feet I came out of the trees onto a panoramic view with the sun setting, and there was a fabulous stealth site in the trees. I trashed my plans and set my tent up right there. Only problem was a lack of trees appropriate for hanging food bags from. Tipperary
Date: 2017-07-08
From: Madison Springs Hut, NH

To: Carter Notch Hut, NH
Miles today: 13.7
Weather: scattered clouds

After an amazingly good night's sleep at 4,800 feet, and the usual hearty hut breakfast, I took off up Mt Madison at 8:16. There were lots of hikers leaving the hut just before me. All of us heading north were immediately faced with the ascent of the boulder field behind the hut. It was quite a sight, all those people bent forward, leaning into the slope and using their poles for balance. It reminded me of the photograph of the long line of would-be gold miners going up the mountain during the Alaskan gold rush. There was a big group of Boy Scouts. After reaching the top, you could look back to see Mt Washington, and forward to see the trail follow the ridgeline, its path marked by cairns.The trail eventually dipped below the treeline and onto the infamous Osgood Trail, steep and rocky. Soon after the descent began, I fell and pitched forward. I've learned not to wear my pole straps around my wrists during tricky ascents and descents, which is 90% of the time lately, as that allows me to drop the poles if I fall. This helps stop me from breaking or bending the poles, and allows me more freedom to use my hands to protect me. In this instance, it was my forearms that took the fall, and although I banged my forehead on a rock, it was just a graze. I was considerably shaken, so much so that Mix was able to catch up with me, despite being much older than me (59; 60 in October). But I recovered and was able to resume my usual pace.At the Mt Washington Auto Rd, I met Camo and his assistant Pokey, doing a survey for the AMC. Camp keeps the trail signs in the area up to date. I was happy to hear that the white blazes would recommence almost at once; they've been missing for the last few miles. The day was very sunny when I reached Pinkham Notch. I crossed the road and started the 2000-foot climb of Wildcat Mtn. It was tough and technical, and took me almost three hours. I abandoned my plans for a 20-mile day. A thunderstorm started up and delivered some rain. When I finally crested the summit, the trail's rocks were slippery and the going was slow. It was a relief to see the Carter Notch Hut appear around 7:30. There was no one I knew there, and I seemed to be the sole NOBO thru-hiker present. Tipperary
Date: 2017-07-12
From: Baldpate Lean-to, ME

To: East B Hill Rd, ME
Miles today: 8.0
Weather: scattered clouds

I was awake around 5 as usual and had a brief word with Tuff Broad and Bear Sweatz before they headed out. I will probably never see them again (although never is a long time). The climb out of Baldpate Lean-to up to the top of the west peak of Baldpate mountain was steep, and I was exhausted by my efforts of the previous day. The last section was over bare rock and very steeply pitched - a fairly safe but grueling climb. At the top I had cell coverage and did my usual email checks and messages. From the top one could see the trail ahead leading to the east peak. I gradually was feeling better. But it was terribly humid and in the area of Frye Notch Lean-to, my phone was acting up, messing with my ability to call for a shuttle to Andover. I climbed the hill after the shelter and succeeded in making the call. I agreed a 2:30 pick-up on the next road crossing with Naomi at Pine Ellis hostel. That was four miles and two hours away, so I put my head down and 'booked it' to the meeting point, passing the scenic Dunn Notch and Falls on the way. I got to the road a little early. But there was no car waiting. There was no cell coverage. There was almost no traffic. So I waited. At just after 3:00, a shuttle van driven by an elderly woman, Gloria, showed up and took me the eight miles to Pine Ellis. There was no apology for the late pick-up and I said nothing. The hostel was a private house with a section devoted to guests - all of whom were hikers. I showered, borrowed some loaner shorts and a t-shirt so that I could throw everything in the laundry, and connected by text message with Fin Phelan. Fin, an Irish emigrant to Cape Cod, where he has a landscaping business in Hyannisport, has been an ardent follower of my blog. He even called me when I was very low on my zero day back in Dalton/Pittsfield, Massachusetts, to offer some advice and words of encouragement. He was now driving with his wife to meet me and join me on the hike. I went to the local ice-cream store. There I dispatched three double cones of ice cream in short order, to the amazement of a nearby table of four elderly locals. My favorite flavor was Maine blueberry, but the strawberry wasn't bad either. From there I made a visit to the general store for a few resupply and beer items, as my hike had ended with an almost-empty food bag (one Knorr pasta meal remained). I drank five beers while in my room. I ordered pizza from the general store and walked there to pick it up. Unusually for me, I wasn't able to finish it. Fin showed up at 10pm. He's tall (6' 4"), muscular from years of amateur boxing, and an avid hiker. I said hello to his wife Alison, who didn't delay but turned around and headed off for Portland where she was overnighting on the return journey. Alison had bought me a huge amount of food - grapes, oranges, apples, water flavoring, Snickers, M&Ms, meals, etc. Fin and I chatted until 1 and turned in. Tipperary
Date: 2017-07-13
From: East B Hill Rd, ME

To: Bemis Mountain Lean-to
Miles today: 18.8

What an awful day. We woke to rain, which we'd expected. After a good breakfast at the general store, we packed up and by 8:00 were being shuttled to the AT. Fin opted for the entire day to let me lead and described himself as my disciple. The rain persisted through midday. The trail was rocky and tree-rooty for the entire distance we covered (18.8 miles). The tree-roots were often very slippery. I began to rack up an impressive number of falls. They started on the long 5-mile climb up 1,500 feet on Wyman Mountain (no views, just cloud). There was a steep and very technical climb up Moody (another 1,500) and a corresponding drop down to Black Brook, which was swollen by the rain. I should have simply walked across the river-bed, as my boots were already soaked, but tried to emulate Fin, who skillfully hopped from rock to rock (several of them submerged slightly). I slipped on the second-last rock and fell into the river face-first. I was soaked from head to toe. Fin darted back to grab one of my poles, which was floating away. I put on my windcheater jacket to avoid getting chilled and we proceeded up Old Blue Mountain, a massive 2,200-foot climb and very challenging in the rain. Fin was beginning to tire a little as he hasn't hiked since February. I lost track of how many times I fell. The falls were all 'soft' falls onto my pack or into foliage to the side of the trail. Fin said that my boots - purchased when I was in Connecticut - had inadequate tread and were partly the reason for my misery. We pushed up Bemis Mountain and saw a glorious sunset over the lakes and valleys to our west. The last 3.5 miles to Bemis Mountain Lean-to were interminable. Even Fin was falling as fatigue took its toll. I slid down a rock-face and finally suffered some consequences in the form of a grazed elbow and wrist. We stumbled into the lean-to at 9:53. Fin struggled to put up his tent, and after we both were set up, we got water using his fantastic and fast pump-action water filter. I cooked a big Backpacker's Pantry meal of Chana Masala and turned in. What a momentously awful day. Things had better improve...
Date: 2017-07-14
From: Bemis Mountain Lean-to

To: Little Swift River Pond Campsite
Miles today: 12.9
Weather: scattered clouds

I was awake shortly before 5. I spent a lot of time typing up several days' worth of entries for my journal, to be uploaded once I have an internet connection. Fin and I were back on the trail by 8:58. The profile for the hike looked quite moderate, with only one significant climb.We made decent progress early on and had reasonable expectations of achieving our aggressive target of 19.5 miles. A couple of miles into the hike we had to ford Bemis Stream. After my debacle at Black at yesterday, I took the precaution of changing into my plastic camp shoes and was then able to walk through the river, which was wide but mostly less than a foot deep. Fin, of course, hopped from rock to rock to get across. He has the advantage of waterproof boots. The issue with boots that don't let in water is that they also don't let it out. So if water gets in over the top of your boots, or if your feet sweat, you may be stuck with wet feet all day. The trail was very accommodating all morning, with flat rock or leafy root-free sections. Just after 11, we came to a woods road where Teddie and Snowman had set up a major trail magic station, with several folding chairs, and serving up hot dogs, burgers, bananas, chips and sodas. They drive 70 miles to this spot twice a week. We stayed there for over an hour and could have stayed longer. But we needed to press on. The trail began to become less and less friendly. Big tracts of mud, slippery roots, and rocky ups and downs began to slow us down. Fin's right knee was sore from a fall yesterday and he was suffering on the downhills. It started to rain. We gave up on the goal of making it Piazza Rock Lean-to. When we reached the Little Swift River Pond Campsite, we hurried to set up our tents but unfortunately the rain began to bucket down and I spent a lot of time mopping up when I crawled in. I ate some food that did not require cooking and curled up in my sleeping bag. I was asleep by 8:30. Tipperary
Date: 2017-07-15
From: Little Swift River Pond Campsite

To: Poplar Ridge Lean-to
Miles today: 15.5
Weather: scattered clouds

The rain had stopped by the time I awoke. Fin called to me from his tent when he heard me on the move. His hip rash was infected, he couldn't straighten his left leg, and his clothes were almost all wet. He was therefore going to have a late start, hike to the next road crossing five miles away, and head to Rangeley and home. He wished me well, and gave me some food and a loan of his water filter.I was on the trail by 7:11. It was overcast. The rain had exacerbated the muddiness and wetness of the trail. I cruised to the crossing, scrawling little notes of encouragement for Fin in the mud along the way. My intent was to get all the way to Spaulding Mountain Lean-to, for a hike of 24.2 miles. But there was too much difficult climbing and descending. First came a relatively benign 2,500-foot climb up to the top of Saddleback Mountain, at 4,120. The sun came out as I was approaching the summit and the views of the lakes below were impressive. The short drop and climb up to The Horn followed. The descent of The Horn was very dangerous, with damp rocks causing me to slip numerous times. It was the same for Saddleback Junior, and while I was on that peak, the rain came back (although it stopped soon afterwards). I am getting thoroughly fed up with these technical slopes. "A Walk in The Woods" - huh! More like "A Scramble over Rocks". Seriously, I think the ratio of rock-trail to leaf-trail must by now be 4:1. As I was descending Junior, I called ahead to a motel on Stratton and booked myself a room for tomorrow night. Chef Boyardee came along as I was putting my pack back on. We ambled the last mile to Poplar Ridge Lean-to and managed to find tiny tent sites to squeeze our tents onto. Tipperary
Date: 2017-07-16
From: Poplar Ridge Lean-to

To: ME 27 (road to Stratton, ME)
Miles today: 21.5

My goal today was to get to the town of Stratton for a resupply and a motel room for the night. That would require a hike of 21.5 miles. In Virginia or many other states, that would have been an unremarkable mileage. But here in Maine, the terrain would make that a huge target. So I started my hike at 6:05.The first order of business was a 1,500-foot descent to Orbeton Stream. It was a rocky and slow crawl down at about 1mph. Funnily enough, the corresponding 1,500-foot climb up Lone Mountain was probably at a faster pace! I stopped off for a half-hour at Spaulding Mountain Lean-to for lunch. Just 1.7 miles later, I passed through the 200 miles-to-go mark. There was another rock-infested mini-Mahoosuc Notch to go down to get to the South Branch Carrabassett River. The views across the valley to the next ridge were very beautiful. While I rested at the river, Chef Boyardee caught up with me. He decided to stop for water and food while I continued on. The twin peaks of South and North Crocker Mountain awaited me. All day, SOBOs had been warning me that South Crocker would be a near-vertical climb. In the event, it was certainly steep and got my heartbeat up to 100+, but there was no really technical section. Chef caught up with me again and stayed with me, although he has the legs to leave me in his dust. After North Crocker came a long 5.2-mile, almost 3,000-foot descent to the road to Stratton. It rained for twenty minutes as we began the descent, just enough to ensure that rocks and tree roots were appropriately slick. There were very few difficult sections. But my feet had been wet for most of the day, and in the last half-hour, I began to develop blisters. I was almost prostrate by the time we hit the 2,000-mile mark, and was so tired that I didn't even pull out my phone to take a photo. At the trailhead I called the motel, and our pickup by the manager, Tree Hugger, took place 20 minutes later. While we waited, I was able to FaceTime my wife and son to discuss meeting him in Monson in a few days' time. We were so late (it was after 8pm) and it was a Sunday, so by the time we got to town, everything was closed. I went to my room for a shower and ate the rest of my food, while Chef went to the bunk room where he was staying and where there was food in the fridge. I updated several days'-worth of trail journals, hand-washed my trail clothes, and set my devices to recharging. My poor iPod seems to be checking out and I can't get it to play. A sad little casualty of the trail. Tipperary
Date: 2017-07-17
From: ME 27 (road to Stratton, ME)

To: Avery Memorial Campsite, ME
Miles today: 8.1
Weather: clear sky

I slept just four hours or so. It was hot in the room, which had a fan but no air conditioning. I rousted Chef from bed to get breakfast at The Loose Moose. Tori, a ridge runner, gave us a lift there. I had three breakfasts - biscuits and gravy, eggs and ham, and a large stack of blueberry pancakes. Elaine, our waitress, was a bit taken aback. From there we walked back to a grocery store to buy resupply items. I packed and was ready to leave but Chef needed to charge his phone so I left. I weighed my pack - it was 47 pounds, four of them water. I was hitching a lift when Rob, the morning manager at the motel, came by with Tori and gave me a ride. I was back hiking by 11:14. The first order of business was climbing up onto the Bigelow ridge, a 2,000-foot slog. It was hot and humid. I sweated buckets. But the climb was honest toil, with good trail and few spoilers like rock tumbles to break the rhythm. It was steep, and I stopped many times to get my heart-rate down and to refill my water. In the mid-afternoon there was a thunderstorm but it missed me. There was a terrific view of two mountains with a lake nestled at the foot of them  - North Horn and South Horn, and Horns Pond. Beyond them lay Bigelow Mountain West Peak. I traversed all three peaks, and at Bigelow, Chef finally caught me and persuaded me to call it a day before the oncoming thunderstorm could hit. We dashed to the Avery Memorial Campsite a few hundred yards down the mountain. I set up my tent on a platform just as the rain hit. I dived into it before I could get too wet. Later, when there was a lull, I tracked down the privy and then went for water but it was too far away across a rock jumble. The storm returned. I was changing into my night clothes in my tent when a bolt of lightning struck very close by, and I heard someone running towards me. It was a young female SOBO, Bias, who was in some distress. I got her to open a vestibule and crawl in out of the rain. It was rather bizarre. We had a pleasant chat. I lent her my rain jacket to help her get warm and we waited for the next break in the storm, at which point she ran off to set up her tent on the nearest available platform. I cooked some food with a small quantity of water I had. My two chores for the evening were sewing up my wretched pants pocket (again), this time with stronger thread I'd found in the hiker box at the motel, and supergluing a crack in my water filter which I'd been holding together with duct tape. Tipperary