morvasaaty/AppalachianTrail-LD-Hikers-Blogs-and-Weather-20-years huggingface dataset:
Date: 2003-04-11
From: Erwin

To: Erwin
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: overcast clouds

Zero Day, ErwinI had wanted to do the next section, the 11 miles from Indian Grave Gap to Iron Mountain. But the cold rain was still coming down today, and the tales of yesterday's Trail travail continue to trickle through the grapevine. One thru-hiker, Lunaire, did go out above Indian Grave Gap but after a few miles lost the Trail. He spent two hours searching. He never found it. The trees were bowed over, blown down, broken off and covered with snow - an obstacle course. He walked back and hitched out to Erwin.I, on the other hand, had promised myself a day off after yesterday's chills and spills. I contentedly ate breakfast, caught up on my journal and took a hot bath.Oh yes, a fine day for a zero it was.In the afternoon, my friend Frank came and took me away in his car to Hot Springs. Yes, "backwards" we went. There is an annual festival there that celebrates the AT. My friend Sunny was meeting us there. Sunny and Frank thru-hiked the Trail last year.It was a fun reunion with Sunny, and although Elmer's Sunnybank Inn was packed, Sunny has an in with Elmer. We ended up snaring a spot on his Victorian balcony, overlooking the garden. Meanwhile, Dan at Bluff Mt. Outfitters repaired my hiking pole. Just like that.After a community house spaghetti dinner, and a reunion with several hiker friends, we retired to our balcony loft. I slept quite peacefully above this funky little mountain town: as the t-shirt says, "where Mayberry meets the Twilight Zone."
Date: 2003-04-12
From: Hot Springs

To: Trailfest
Miles today: 0.0

The next morning, what was that in my eyes? The sun?! What a pleasure is was to wake up on that broad balcony in the bright cool, the birds singing loudly. We scarfed a hearty breakfast at Elmers, then wandered downtown to see the goings-on. There was bluegrass music and bake sales galore, plus prize giveaways. I met Pog and Not To Worry outside the outfitters, and Pog bought me a duck for the benefit duck race - orange. Did it win? Somebody report back.I DID snag a real prize, I thought. I won a rafting trip on the French Broad, run by NOC. I have until October to claim my river prize, so I better get walking north.After Bob Peoples gave his talk on Trail maintenance, I rode with him back to Kincorra Hostel, one of the most beloved places on the Trail. Bob will shuttle me to sunnier portions of the Trail while I wait for the 6,600-foot Roan Mt. to thaw out.As we crossed up and over Sam's Gap, at only about 3500 feet, the snow was still thick on the ground. Bob cut his eyes at me. "You may have to walk some of the lower elevations first," he said.Bob loves to tell Trail stories, and he mentioned that a portion of the river Trail ahead of me, in Laurel Fork, had been closed for two days. The ledge walk by the cliff had been underwater, and a thru-hiker had fallen into water up to his neck. Luckily, it was not a strong current, and the hiker did not get swept away.When I got to the hostel, there were old friends Seattle and Looky Lou. And another old friend - their little terrier Mickey, the one who reminds me so much of my silly dog Pogo. Their border collie Kate was there too, and gave me a sniff. She is an aloof lady, with eyes only for dad. But later that evening, after much invitation on my part, she came over and offered me a paw. I was part of the thru-hiker tribe. Seattle and Lou had been trapped at Ash Gap before the 6K-plus Roan Mt. When the snows hit, they tried to stay put, then eventually made their way to a road and got out. The snow was so deep they were nearly post-holing, and little Mickey had to leap like a dolphin from bootprint to bootprint, they said, disappearing from sight between leaps. After a time, the wet snow formed ice balls on his legs and he would stop, waiting for someone to knock them off.The leg balls brushed off readily, but the heavy snow formed ice balls under Mickey's armpits. His hair froze into it, and Lou saw she couldn't pull it away without ripping his hair painfully. So, now being a bona fide Trail Woman, she adjusted to fit the situation - she bit the ice balls away!When I heard this tale of her fall from civilized protocol (ie, things one would never do at home), I had to go over and high-five her: "Woman!""Yeah," said Seattle looking on fondly, "she has potential, doesn't she?"They still didn't know where their brother Home Run was. He had gone on ahead over Roan, as had Pop-Pop. They had no word from either one yet. It was fun catching up on Trail gossip. Later that night, after lights out, little Mickey jumped into bed with me and curled up.
Date: 2003-04-21
From: TN 91

To: TN 91
Miles today: 0.0

Shady Valley,TnZero DayLife on the AT is like a river, I am discovering. I can make plans, but they are only plans; they are the map, not the territory. The real trick is to stand in the middle of river and see what floats into view at any given moment.In other words, whatever happens, happens.Plans are not a bad thing, not at all. But a body has to adapt to fit the situation, as a wise old friend of mine says. I hope to take this equanimity and flexible insight back with me from the Trail.The last couple days did not unfold as I had originally envisioned. They were truly excellent days nonetheless. I got to spend quality time with friends who love the outdoors as much as I do, and got to meet a new friend. And a weiner dog.So today, when I woke up to yet another day of cold rain - we have had our share this year - I really didn't want to shoulder my pack and march in it. It is one thing to cope when you are out there; it's another to march into driving cold turkey! Yes, the heart grew faint.So, after Dave reunited the Stewarts with their car back at Kincorra, he dropped me back at his lake house. There Milo and I spent a decadent day napping, eating and watching "Courage Under Fire," "Jerry McGuire," "On Golden Pond" and a forgettable Antonio Banderas film, memorable only for Antonio.When Dave and his boys got home, we ate huge grilled cheeseburgers and watched - I am ashamed to admit - the gory "Blade II."I also had a chance to get on the Internet and see some of my photos for the first time.Though it's my job to put one foot in front of the other, nobody walks the AT by themself. Many folks are helping me. For one, I have an outstanding photo support person in Ken Wescott, husband of a favorite client of mine, Nancy Piscopo. Ken, it turns out, is a photo enthusiast. He knows computers too. He offered to take my CF cards - the "film" in my digital camera - and download the pictures to a CD. Then he mails the cards back ahead on the Trail.But Ken has been going above and beyond, actually posting pictures online here in the journals. In addition, he's been having some fun. Be sure to check back thru the second half of March to see his collages and creative efforts. There are a few snow pictures in there too.I can't say it enough. Thank you Ken!I hadn't planned on Ken's extra input either, yet it makes the journals vastly more interesting. Whatever happens, happens - and often that "happening" is much better than I could have imagined at the outset.And so the river AT flows on...
Date: 2003-04-22
From: TN 91

To: Damascus, Va.
Miles today: 21.8
Weather: light rain

The morning came abruptly, as my next best friend Milo took a flying leap onto the couch - and my chest - and snuggled deep into my sleeping bag. Dachshund alert!A raw, windy day today, under dark grey skies, with rain predicted. Do you know how hard it is to leave a warm, dry truck at a Trailhead and walk alone into the freezing cold mountains, with the expectation of getting soaked?Even with a hearty farm breakfast at the Cranberry Cafe under my hipbelt, it took all the will and nerve I had to put one foot in front of the other instead of plastering myself to the hood of Dave Thomas's truck as he let me off at TN 91.The wind had a sharp cut to it, and it was hard to know how to layer. Too much and I sweat, too few and I froze. I never did get it right.It seemed I was alone today, although in the second hour I ran across Fido-Dido hiking alone. I had thought to go only to the next shelter, but the temps were dropping as I walked. By Abingdon Shelter, I had gone 12 miles, and it was only 1:45 pm. Too early and too cold to stop. Drifter, Fido and Notes were also there, so I asked "Who wants to go to Damascus?" My feet were rested and my energy was good, the trail was relatively gentle today.Only young Notes, a photojounalist, took up the challenge to go another 10 miles to town. We set off swiftly, and in a surprisingly short time were at the TN/VA state line.Yes! Into our fourth state! We high-fived and took pictures. Ten more states to go. Hello Virginia! I will be in this long state until June. That's the longest I wil be in any other state. Some people say Virginia is boring, but I suspect I will find it to my liking.The rest of the run to Damascus went down quickly. The trail was largely sloped, and that was largely downhill. Woohooo! Tennessee turnpike!Before long, we were seeing Damascus below. I had just done my longest backpacking day ever, 22 miles, and felt great! The Trail and a light foodbag was on my side today.Damascus, VA is said to be the friendliest town on the AT. The Trail runs right down the center of town, and out again. It's also the psychological quarter-way mark, though that actual mile marker would be 543.2, near a road, VA 610.As it is, we've walked 458.9 miles. That's a lotta shoe leather! It feels good.I wandered down to the Methodist hostel, The Place, and found a bunk. This hostel is also $4 a night, like Kincorra. It's a big old rambling house with a shower and bathrooms. Sandal was there, along with Goldberry, Uncle Goldberry, Wicked Wizard, Crow and Lucky.Twenty-two miles will wear a body out, so it's off to bed for this hiker.
Date: 2003-05-05
From: Pearisburg, VA

To: Pearisburg, VA
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: light rain

Zero Day, Dave Hick's house, Dubin, VAAfter the fanciest, tastiest waffles imaginable (Dave is a chef and whips his egg whites first), Dave loads me in his beige pickup for a round of chores.First, a hair trim (well, it's time). The hairdresser asks all sorts of intelligent questions about the hike. Then, the grocery store. Can't have too many Snicker bars.We return home for a little down time. I immediately fall asleep, feeling bone tired despite a very comfortable billet last night. Thru-hiking will do that to a body.After a Cinco de Mayo lunch at Taco Bell (hey! hikers! they have grated parmesan cheese in packets!), we visit Phil, the orthotics maker. He clucks knowingly at my foot woes, then demonstrates graphically what I intuitively know - my "new shoes" (now with 300 miles on them) are too small in the toebox, though they fit well length wise and around my narrow heels.Phil traces my weighted foot on paper, then removes the shoe's insole and traces that - the areas of my foot that stick out of the insole lines are exactly what is being tortured. He can stretch my shoes, but it will take overnight for best results. I can't walk out of Pearisburg tomorrow and do 20 miles, the original plan.Dave hears this and offers me a 14 mile slack tomorrow, in an area where he does Trail maintenance. That would let me fine-tune the shoe if necessary, he points out. It would also give my blisters some unweighted time to heal. We can hit the Pearisburg post office and get my drops at the same time. It's a plan. I am grateful.After leaving my shoes and my hopes with Phil, Dave takes me over to an outfitter, "just because." (You know you're a gearhead if the outfitter greets you with a "Hi Dave" as you walk in... )After hefting and glomming and inhaling and discussing gear for a good while, we head back to the Hick's homestead to prepare supper. As his wife Carla is not feeling well, I am elected sous chef to stir, wash and mix.Dave loves to cook. Anyone who has been to the Georgia Ruck and tasted his homemade tomato-basil bread or curried pumpkin soup can attest to his culinary skills.So this was a production, with homemade lasagna noodles from scratch, steamed vegetables, sauteed vegetables, grated Fontina cheese, and something involving leeks, which automatically puts a thing into the gourmet category. This was served up with hot Italian bread and extra virgin olive oil.Dave dished up huge portions, and again questioned my thru-hiker credentials for not eating half the pan. I told him it would be all gone in the morning.Despite the nap, I am ready to crash at a reasonable hour, and I do.
Date: 2003-05-19
From: Glasgow, VA

To: US 60, Buena Vista
Miles today: 21.1

I just did a 21+ mile day, and am whipped, so I'll keep this short.Good buddy Chief dropped not only me but Fly and Smoothie off back at the Trailhead before slipping down the road back to NC. He has been an awesome Trail friend to us, and I have been grateful for his willing help and good humor.He's getting back on at Delaware Water Gap to finish last year's thruhike, and promises to do some hiking with me. "We'll be on equal footing then, " he says to Fly. "Jan won't even have to be nice to me."Very chilly hiking today, just the way I like it. The climb up from the flooded James River was an endurance test, but we were fit and up to the challenge. Clouds obscured all our views.I don't have much gas in the tank tonight, but two Trail scenes stand out in my mind.The first is the incredible whitewater in the many streams in this section. The power of these mountain streams after a rain is something to behold. Nice to see water in the land after last year's pathetic damp riverbeds.The second scene is of the AT footpath, strewn with rhododendron blossoms. Recent rains beat down the flower clusters and showered the trail with these lavender beauties. When green moss sparkles underfoot, the spectacle of green and purple can take your breath away.Other moments of note: the red-spotted newt Fly found and nestled in his palm; the pond at Punchbowl shelter; the red clay smeared on my brand new shoes; the sun coming out in late afternoon and sparkling off the lake behind Peddler's Dam; Fly plunging into a whitewater torrent to rescue my camera bag when it fell in as I crossed the log span.And the best of all - dead tired, in an area known for its hard hitches, we got a ride at the late hour of 7:30 pm. The good-hearted young mother who stopped for us wasn't even going all the way to town. She lived in a motel room with her delightful 3-year-old son Marcus as she put herself through school. I've never paid for a hitch before. But both Fly/Smoothie and I spontaneously got out our wallets and, over her protestations, made a donation to young Marcus' college fund.When we got to the Buena Vista Motel, there was Notes. A jolly crew is assembling. Notes had just driven up with Caroline. They drove us to supper, and then we collapsed.
Date: 2003-05-26
From: Loft Mountain Campground

To: Hightop Hut
Miles today: 14.0
Weather: light rain

Rain, rain rain! I wake up in a pool of water. My tent has condensed big-time, and I am soaked. I know it is not leaking because I tested it with a garden hose before I left.Man, I am tired of being cold and wet...Luckily, there is a laundromat at the campground, so I pack up my sodden tent, my sodden bag, my sodden attitude and my sodden other sundries and trundle down to the Land of the Giant Dryers. As my things tumble, a string of soggy thru-hikers come in: Wild Flamingo, Commander in Chief, Just Do It and others. Everyone is wet. The dryers are filled to the brim with down bags.I don't know what to do about my tent. This condensation problem limits me to the shelters in chilly, wet weather. Aaargh! The hut distances here in the Shennies average about 13 miles apart - three or four miles short of a good day's walking on this easy terrain. Yet 26 miles is more than I want to do to my body. Sigh. I'll walk the 14 miles to Hightop Hut tonight. Maybe risk another camp the day after tomorrow. It has to stop raining sometime... right? Commander in Chief sets out about the same time as me. We leapfrog Just Do It all day. The sun makes a surprise appearance mid-day, and we cheer.My brother's friend Dale wrote me and asked about bugs and such. I've written about the eye- and lung-diving gnats. Those kind of faded away on the annoyance scale after my friend Chief brought me a sheet of Bounce, a dryer sheet. Gnats aren't serious pests. I mean, they don't sting you or make you sick, though they may drive you insane. About the only physical danger they pose is knocking yourself out with your hiking pole as you swat them away from your brow.Another annoyance are the black fly thingies. They aren't the classic black fly, I don't believe. They didn't bite. These flies would dive into your ear and buzz futilely. When you would extricate them, saving their miserable lives, they would repay you by diving right back in.It's too chilly yet for serious mosquitos, and maybe ticks. Those will come later.As we went ticking down the Trail on some flat bottomland, we passed a champion pile of bear scat. I mean, humungous. "I wanted to pin a blue ribbon on it," said a section hiker. I haven't seen bear sign since North Carolina. If they are as "tame" as the deer, I am in trouble.The signage here in the Shenandoahs is quite good. The Park uses concrete posts, and mileage info is stamped on a zinc band at the top. That info is plentiful and frequent, a treat on the AT. The temp is dropping now, so I am going to wrap this up. I'll likely walk over the 900 mark tomorrow.
Date: 2003-06-16
From: Port Clinton

To: Port Clinton
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: few clouds

Nearby Hywy 61 had trucks zipping by all night. You could feel them, viscerally, down shifting.The church Pavilion was a fun and safe place to stay, but well-lit by streetlights. Combine this with my sorry, smushed-down, three-and-a-half-months-old Z-Rest, and I didn't get much shut-eye.Damn Z-Rest!Notes and I hit the local breakfast spot, then the post office. My resupply box hasn't come - I sent it two weeks ago...I get the last room at the Port Clinton Hotel, which I share with Just Do It and Itchy Feet. Hmmmm, green bead spreads, sketchy bathroom... The PC Hotel has half the charm of the Doyle at twice the price. Ben and I need food and film. We get a ride immediately from the woman in the Peanut Shop next door. Ben is a magic yogi. I take Notes. We resupply, then I try out my yogi skills and snag us a ride back from a man in the parking lot. He wasn't even going to Port Clinton. We never put out our thumbs.In truth, the man's grandson walked the AT, and he felt a kinship with those afoot.Back at the hotel, we high five. "Sure is hard to get a ride in this town," jokes Ben.Next, I settle the Z-Rest situation.Okay, I admit, I had fun at the Appalachian Outfitters. I'd been good for 1,200 miles, buying only Aqua Mira and stove alcohol. But stuff wears out. It was time for some simple gear changes.I buy:- A new summer shirt. My robin's-egg blue sleeveless is stained badly under the arms (why would that be?) and stained black where the pack rubs it. Even when clean, it looks pretty grungy. I opt for a new one, on sale.- New Shorts. Somehow, I ripped the seat out of my black pair. Even duct tape fails to retain modesty. Too many butt-slides, I guess.- My Z-Rest, though light, had to go. I toss and turn all night, and that's a Bad Thing, Martha. Replacement: An Equinox, 3/4 inflatable, which Vern the Outfitter said was the lightest thing out there. The $49 price seemed worth it.Vern then gave me a thru-hiker discount, a solid 15 percent off, and threw in 4 Esbit tabs, since he was out of stove alcohol.Mule was there. The colorful Mule was still on the hunt for the Ideal Shelter - nearly weightless. He bought a blue rain poncho/tarp-tent combo.Time to eat. The Unionville B&B was disastrous, despite high recommendations. Long waits. We got there before 5 pm, the opening hour. By 8, when we still hadn't gotten our salads, we canceled out. I went back to my room to eat blueberries.Also in town were Swift Sandal, Fish, and the returning Flamingo. The Five Alive ran in and out, Crow too, and Cindy (CinC).Tomorrow, back out to the woods. Enough of this traffic!
Date: 2003-06-21
From: Campsite N of Palmerton

To: Wind Gap
Miles today: 13.0
Weather: light rain

It's still raining, and it's the first day of summer. The solstice. Unseasonably cool, I linger in my bag.Then I remember - it's also Naked Hiking Day, an AT tradition in which a few indulge. As cold as it was, there would be some serious shrinkage today. Personally, I feel that no one under 30 should be allowed to participate in Naked Hiking Day, but that's just me. I did not indulge, huddled as I was in my raincoat. I got up from my tent to empty my bladder, and take down the bear line, but I couldn't find Notes' hiding place - so much for surprising them with breakfast in bed.It was still raining, so after another mop-and-wring, I fell back asleep. My head still hurt.When I woke, I still couldn't eat, but forced down some banana chips. I felt a little better in the stomach.Notes and Carry emerged and located the food bags. Finally, I mustered the gumption to go out in the rain and take down the tent. Everything was sopping.The rain grew stronger. My feet were soaked. I met Speilberg, a thru-hiker who was getting off at Wind Gap for a wedding. He told me about the Gateway Motel just to the left, within walking distance. A good bail-out spot at 13 miles.I had lunch at Leroy Smith shelter, the first solid food in nearly two days. Shepherd's pie - dehydrated burger, gravy mix and mashed potatoes. It tasted great.All three springs were not only running strong, a stream of water from above them came roaring down. I chatted with Speilberg for awhile, then he moved on when some Boy Scouts came in seeking shelter for a dry lunch. I came on shortly after.Notes and Carry came in as I was leaving the shelter, and agreed to split a room in Wind Gap, five miles more walking. It won't be DWG for me tonight, alas. I need to dry out. Man! It's been a slow week for me since Port Clinton.The rain is peeling back the Superglue Trooper applied to my shoes' toe bumpers. The rain is hard on everything. My orthotics are separating. The silnylon foodbag is soaked thru. Luckily, I now keep my food in Ziplocks. I arrive at Wind Gap and find the Gateway Motel, handily off to the left. Speilberg is already there, and shortly his girlfriend Sara arrives to take him to a wedding. They feed me chocolate brownies, and drive me to a laundromat to dry out my stuff. Then to a convenience store for milk, OJ, a sandwich, Krispy Cremes and ice cream. Aaah, civilization...Notes and Carry come in later, and order pizza. We watch the movie "The Edge" with Anthony Hopkins, a movie about bear attacks in Alaska. Great! Just what we need to see before entering the bear-infested state of New Jersey. I stuff my soaking shoes with newspaper and crank the heat, hoping the footwear and my pack will dry out a bit. I hate to touch any of it. It all smells so bad.