morvasaaty/AppalachianTrail-LD-Hikers-Blogs-and-Weather-20-years huggingface dataset:
Date: 2007-07-24
From: Frye Notch Lean-to

To: Hall Mtn Lean-to
Miles today: 10.5
Weather: broken clouds

Cheeze was up and out pretty early, I decided to lounge around for a little while but finally got my ass moving. To-day was to be a short day, as we both had to go into Andover to resupply. The 4.5 miles to East B Hill Road weren't too bad, and the Trail went right by a pretty nifty waterfall and jogged alongside the Ellis River for a spell. Right before I got to the trailhead, I saw Sundance Kid, who I hadn't seen since Duncannon, bathing in the water with a girl who I presumed to be Pinky, judging by their registry entries. I said hello and went to the road, which was deserted, and waited for a car to pass by.I waited.And waited.An SUV drove by after about 20 minutes. I stuck out my thumb. It ignored me.40 minutes, and two cars later, I'm still standing at the side of the road. A Jeep came rolling by in the opposite direction I want to go. I didn't even bother to thumb it. But it stopped anyway. A youngish man in a bullet proof vest."No one's picking you, huh?""Nope.""Hop in, I'll give you a lift to Andover.""Sweet!"This was extraordinarily nice of him, as Andover is a full 8 miles away. It may be noted that during this entire time, Sundance and Pinky never emerged from the hilly brush.Turns out my ride is a forest ranger who does this service for hikers whenever he can, as the road is pretty desolate. He dropped me in front of the post office, I thanked him, and he drove away.There was service in Andover, and I called my family for the first time since Mount Washington. Mom told me how Grandma's funeral went, and we both had a little cry together It's strange to think I'll never hear my grandma's cheery British voice singing nonsense as she does chores.Andover is a very small town. there wasn't any really good resupply-- the general store had very limited selection, and the gas station was only marginally better. There are a few hostels here, but I just decided to hitch back to the Trail and meet up with Cheeze as we originally intended.My ride back to the Trail was from a guy who's the town clerk or something like that, who was driving around drinking beer. "It's pretty sad, I'm someone of some importance in this community and I'm drinking and driving," he chortled as he handed me a beer. Still, he seemed like a pretty decent guy-- the type of guy who would not fit in anywhere else except for the hills surrounding Maine's Dead River. Like in the South, I feel more connection with these small-town folks than I ever have with the regular commerce-driven Long Islanders. Perhaps a permanent drastic lifestyle change is in order for me. Part of me wishes I had now gone to college up here instead of in Pennsylvania.
Date: 2007-07-27
From: Piazza Rock Lean-to

To: Spaulding Mtn Lean-to
Miles today: 16.9
Weather: few clouds

Dogfather, Thr'ills and myself went up and over Saddleback Mounatin and its accomplices (The Horn and Saddleback Junior) on this pleasant, if not somewhat hazy day in July. Saddleback was kewl (that's the cool way of spelling "cool"), and Dogfather is a bitch to keep up with. Thr'ills too. No wonder it took me so long to catch them. And they don't even use poles. I think for my future hiking endeavors, I will abandon the ridiculous things. I'm not skiing, I'm hiking.The first shelter we arrived at to-day, the Poplar Ridge Shelter, has interesting floorboards-- they're not planks, but "baseball bats." There is a an extensive book left by the trail maintainer who built the shelter that explains this phenomenon. Apparently back in the good ole days the first hikers of the season would lay branches of conifers on the floor and it provided a nice bed for hikers. As the Trail became more and more used, this method lost its practicality and was replaced by pre-cut planks. What remains are notorious shelters that give hikers back problems.After lunch, we huffed it to Spaulding Mountain. There's a family here-- a dad and his two teenage sons who are out for a few days. The two kids are lighting their farts on fire, and it's quite funny. It'd be nice to say that we retain some sense of civility when we're in the woods for extended periods of time, but the truth of the matter is dick and fart jokes are a hiker's staple.And just so you know, I, too, have no self-control when it comes to keeping my eructations and flatus emissions in check.
Date: 2007-07-28
From: Spaulding Mtn Lean-to

To: ME27 Stratton
Miles today: 13.5
Weather: light rain

Yesterday, at a road crossing, I found a note from Cheeze saying he was feeling like crap and a trail maintainer was going to yellow blaze him into Stratton. So I knew he was there, and I wanted to meet him .The plan was to wake up early and get to Stratton ASAP. Town was sending out its honing beam, and we were all being drawn in. And I gotta admit, I made myself proud and was up and walking before 7. And I was making good time over terrain that wasn't the easiest of sorts when I saw a sign indicating a spur trail to the summit of Sugarloaf...Memories of skiing Sugarloaf on family vacations flooded my senses. I knew I had to go up. Plus, Wingfoot says you can see Mount Washington AND Mount Katahdin from there. Something like 350 miles. Okay, I'll go up, take a look around, snap a few photos, and get the hell back down. The whole side trip would be an extra mile out of the way, but who cares?That half mile was, of course, entirely straight up, and it never seemed to end, but once I got up there, oh! the views were nice! And even though I couldn't make out which mountains were Washington and Katahdin, I didn't really want to leave.So I didn't.One hour, one photo, and one Snickers later, I finally climb down back to the AT. By now Dogfather and Thr'ills, who were still in their tent when I left, have definitely passed me by.The rest of the trail was not easy; there were a few rock hops across streams and I had to climb up...and then down... Crocker Mountain. Going down felt like it was pretty long; I met several SOBOs along the way who asked me how much farther it was to the summit. They looked pretty beat up. And the sky was rumbling as well.I was about 5 miles from the road crossing into Stratton when it opened up, but I kept on going at a deliberate pace and after about 2 hours I made it to ME27 only partially soaked.I stood by the side of the road for a very long time waiting for a hitch. A soggy hiker in the teaming rain is usually guaranteed a ride from a local, but these locals must have had hearts as hard and black as hate, because no one picked me up. Eventually a woman hiking south with 2 dogs lent me her cellphone and I called and got picked up by the owner of the Stratton Motel, who is really, really nice.Dogfather and Thr'ills were there, as was Cheeze, who is still sick with Giardisis; his farts still smell as bad as ever. There are a bunch of SOBOs here too, like Black Beard and Seaweed Sally, the latter of whom is a little odd but Cheeze is somewhat infatuated with her.As for me, I think I'm in love with Stratton. Like Hot Springs and Andover, it's extremely small and unprosperous, but the locals (whose hearts really aren't hard and black as hate) are pretty friendly. I'd take a zero if I could, but Cheeze has literally no cash, and I want to keep hiking with him (and chide him for the occasional yellow blaze... yeah, I'm a snobby semi-purist). Dogfather and Thr'ills are taking a zero to-morrow, so looks as if we'll be leaving them. Maybe they'll catch up, but I don't count on it. The Bigalows are to-morrow.
Date: 2007-07-29
From: ME27 Stratton

To: Little Bigelow Lean-to
Miles today: 15.3
Weather: scattered clouds

The Bigalows, the last magnificent mountain range before the end. I¢d been looking forward to them for a long time, and they didn¢t disappoint. Truly spectacular, the combination of the beautiful weather and the fact that Cheeze and I barely saw another soul on the Trail this day made it even more sublime. It will not be a day I forget until I am withered with age and enjoying the freedom of senility.At the Little Bigalow Lean-to, we met up with two marathoners who had decided to begin at Katahdin and see how far they get in ten days. They had done 30 mile days through the 100-Mile Wilderness and were still trying to keep the mileage high until Stratton. ¢I¢m in a lot of pain,¢ one of them told us. ¢This probably wasn¢t the best idea.¢ He was hobbling about in a pathetic fashion.I did not feel sorry for him.
Date: 2007-07-30
From: Little Bigelow Lean-to

To: Pierce Pond Lean-to
Miles today: 16.5
Weather: scattered clouds

As of this morning, I have hiked 2000 miles. A trail angel had provided a cooler of beer, soda and snacks for thru-hikers by the road crossing. Thank you, whoever you are. Cheeze, who doesn¢t drink much, had a few sodas, I downed 2 beers, and walked drunkenly for the next two hours toward West Carry Pond.I saw many SOBOs this morning; I would have thought I¢d seen the last of them a week ago, but they keep passing me, sometimes they are eager to talk for a good length, other times they offer nothing more than a nod, a smile and a brief salutation. Either way, most seem to be enjoying the trail, and I am glad.I strode by several ponds to-day, and at one point even found myself in the middle of a mosquito-infested swamp, balancing on flimsy puncheons that threatened to throw me into the murky water if I stepped at an incongruous angle. The swamp had a rainforest-y feel to it unlike any other portion of the Trail.Around noontime, just past the West Carry Pond Lean-to, a hawk or some sort of bird of prey began diving at me continuously, defending its territory from this smelly intruder who was making noise like a herd of elephants. After about the third angry screech and low dive, I took the hint and hastened my gait until he was out of range. I am not one to mess around on someone else¢s property.Despite being buggy, the Pierce Pond Lean-to is one of my favorite shelters on the trail. The shelter itself is nothing special¢your typical Maine shelter with the porcupine trap. However, it is right next to a pond, which happens to be perfect for swimming. Loons are out on the pond, calling us to sleep with their unique cadenced voices. Uly and Jared, two SOBOs who are in absolutely no rush to get to Georgia, join us for the night. I like them. Uly is carrying the latest Harry Potter book, a massive tome that would probably double my pack weight. Jared is the more talkative of the duo; his words are meaningless, trite and plentiful, but nonetheless self-effacing and down to earth. Cheeze and I have a long discussion with Jared about, well, nothing really: girls and sex and farting and poo and things of that nature. But we enjoy ourselves.A flip-flopper named Spock is also here, an emaciated man who is cordial but a little reticent. He¢s tenting somewhere far from the rather rambunctious and vulgar shelter.Earlier this evening, as I was finishing my swim, Dick, the caretaker of Harrison Camps motored by our little shelter on a small boat with his son. They were on their way to go fly-fishing, and inquired as to whether or not some of us would like breffikst in the morning at the lodge for a paltry price. I have heard much about this enormous breffikst; a refusal was, of course, impossible.
Date: 2007-07-31
From: Pierce Pond Lean-to

To: Bald Mtn Brook Lean-to
Miles today: 18.7
Weather: scattered clouds

We were at the Harrison Camps at around 7:30 this morning. Dick and his teenage son, whose name is Tim I think, were really fantastic, personable people. Plus, the breffikst was huge and delicious: 12 apple and blueberry pancakes, 4 links of sausage and juice. All for like $7.00. Dick and his son sat down with us and chatted while we ate; we exchanged life stories and basically enjoyed each other¢s company. They¢re really great people. I¢m glad I met them.A man named Hillbilly gave us the ferry across the Kennebec. He told us how Mr. Ed, who I hadn¢t seen since Damascus and finished like two weeks ago, refused the ferry and forded the river on his own accord. Which leads me to the following conclusion: Mr. Ed is and will always be, more of man than me.We skipped Caratunk, as we had plenty of supplies to make it to Monson, and went swimming at Pleasant Pond for a spell. I swam after a loon, and I caught and ripped its head off with my teeth. Raw loon is delicious.After the relaxing respite at Pleasant Pond, we climbed Pleasant Pond Mountain. Its name may be innocuous, but the climb was steep and tiring. What can I say, Maine has a sense of humor. I called my brother Sean on the summit, as he had left me a message a few days ago. It was good to talk with him again. The family is still reeling in the wake of Grandma¢s death.My father left today for the 100-Mile Wilderness. He¢s going to hike it ahead of me, and then wait for me at one of the last shelters, and then we¢re going to climb Katahdin together. I¢m worried about him. The Wilderness, I¢m told, is no cake (though it¢s decidedly easier than southern Maine) and I hope he¢ll be okay.Now we¢re at the Bald Mountain Lean-to for the night. It¢s not half as dramatic as the Rimsky-Korsakov orchestral piece.
Date: 2007-08-01
From: Bald Mtn Brook Lean-to

To: ME15 Monson
Miles today: 22.0

Monson! That was the destination for the day! The end of this epic tale is nigh, for to-day we officially hitched (albeit a tough hitch¢Maine is a pain the arse when it comes to begging rides from strangers) into the last town on the Trail. Still, I took my time (i.e., I¢m much slower than Cheeze, who got there hours before I did). The highlight of the hiking was Moxie Bald, which is a very lovely mountain, and upon cresting the summit I THINK I was able to make out the Big K in the distance. Not entirely sure though.Monson is a perfect trail town. It is small, maybe 400 people. There¢s a general store, the Lake Shore House, gas station, knick-knacks shop, and of course, Shaw¢s. It¢s not owned by the Shaws anymore, sadly, but it was still a blast. A lot of hikers are here, mostly section hikers, and several former thru-hikers. I met Big Red, who has a popular journal here on trailjournals.com, as well as Jagged and Pete (his real name is ¢Bob¢).and I finally caught the section hikers Bigger Than You (BTU) and Stick.Butch Cassidy is here too! I hadn¢t seen him since Duncannon. He had lost a significant amount of weight since I last saw him, so I didn¢t even recognize him at first glance. Cheeze actually had to tell me who he was¢¦ in front of everybody. Apparently Butch has been waiting for his ¢knucklehead son¢ Sundance to show up for several days now. ¢It¢s getting so that when I walk out the door, the neighbors know me,¢ said Butch. ¢I should run for mayor.¢ Maybe, but an Alabaman secessionist may cause the town to go up in turmoil.Cheeze and I had dinner at the Lake Shore House, which was really nice. We had a long chat with section hikers Itchy and Scratchy, a young couple doing Maine up to Katahdin, and then we sauntered over to the gas station and bought ice cream.To-morrow we have another enormous breffikst (my new favorite meal of the day) and then we hit the 100-Mile Wilderness.As Hoosier would say, ¢Sweetness!¢
Date: 2007-08-02
From: ME15 Monson

To: Cloud Pond Lean-to
Miles today: 19.1
Weather: clear sky

Our first day in the 100-Mile Wilderness. Upon inspecting the registry at the Leeman Brook Lean-to, I saw my dad had signed it about 3 days earlier. He was hoping to take about 8 days to hike it. Cheeze and I were planning at most 5. Just ahead of us are Dice and Biscuits¢ crew. I haven¢t seen Biscuits since Dicks Creek Gap way back in Georgia; at one point he was two weeks ahead of me. Now he¢s a mere 3. I doubt I¢ll overtake him though. And I have yet to meet Dice, the face behind the ubiquitous ¢Go Sox!¢ signature I¢ve been following since the beginning; at this point in the hike, I doubt I¢ll meet him as well.The first few miles of the Wilderness were easy, but pleasant. I passed a cool waterfall and a beaver pond. While we were taking a short break at the Wilbur Valley Lean-to, we heard a train roar past. So much for being completely ¢wild.¢There were a few rock hops across rivers to-day, but no real fords. There are supposedly only two of them here where you have to take off your shoes. So it goes.Another short break at the Long Pond Stream Lean-to proved interesting. Two large groups of girls were camping there, so I knew I was moving on, but they offered to fill my water bottle for me. Thank you! Another man was there named Woodrow; he had been section hiking the trail since 1991, and was now on his last leg. A high school English teacher from Virginia, Woodrow had some insightful comments on finishing the end of this long dream of his.The last four miles of the day were the toughest. By now I was pretty tired, but Barren Mountain proved to be very steep and it wore me out. But at the summit, oh! You should have seen it. The sensation of looking out from the top of a mountain and not being able to see or hear any signs of human inference with nature is difficult for me to put into words. It was glorious. I sat up there for a good 20 minutes drinking it in. Then, with a heavy sigh, I lifted my pack onto my weary shoulders and hiked down, down, down to the Cloud Pond Lean-to, which was a full .4 miles off the trail. Cheeze was there; I joined my friend in supper, and crawled into my sleeping bag for the night.
Date: 2007-08-04
From: Carl A. Newhall Lean-to

To: Cooper Brook Falls Lean-to
Miles today: 18.9
Weather: scattered clouds

Apart from the Shenandoahs and the Smokies (both which I hit early enough to avoid the crowds), I think the 100-Mile Wilderness is the busiest section of the Trail. Two days ago I ran into 2 groups of ~10 girls planning on taking 16 days to hike from Monson to Katahdin. To-day I ran into a large group of Qu©b©cois high school guys on the summit of White Cap Mountain. Why is it that the Qu©b©cois sound like they have mashed potatoes in their mouths? They haven¢t been eating Instant Idahoans for 5 months like me. I think it¢s from all the pea soup¢¦ or something. Even though I know a moderate amount of French, I guess I really am rusty as a Hard Time Hollow; I could make very little sense of their conversation.The path down White Cap was incredible. The MATC really shone here, they did a wonderful job maintaining a safe route for one to descend a steep and tricky mountain. But the real highlight of the day was as I was walking toward the East Branch Lean-to to meet up with Cheeze, I ran into Bonnie Carolyn! I hadn¢t seen Bonnie since running into her slackpacking south with Magellan around Hot Springs, NC. Apparently she got as far north as Port Clinton, PA when she went home for a few weeks to attend some family business. Now she¢s flip-flopping south. Bonnie told me it took her 14 HOURS to climb Katahdin, and she didn¢t get back down until 10 o¢clock at night. Wow. Bonnie is so cool.¢Say, Katter-pilllar, when did I first meet you?¢ she asked.¢Just south of Hot Springs, Bonnie.¢She gave me a confused look. ¢It was the day you accidentally sprayed Loner Bohner in the face with bear mace,¢ I said.Her face lit up, and she let out a chuckle. ¢Oh yeah! I hope he¢s still on the Trail,¢ she said.After letting Bonnie take my picture (I think she doesn¢t know how to use the zoom, for she put the camera right up to my face) I wished her the best of luck, and continued the short distance to the shelter. Cheeze was very happy to see Bonnie as well. ¢I caught her peeing right in the middle of the Trail!¢ he said. ¢I always catch Bonnie in embarrassing situations.¢The rest of the day was flat and easy, and minus a lengthy stop at a beach on Crawford Pond for a swim, I made good time. To-night we are camped at Cooper Brook Falls Lean-to. The shelter is right in front of a river with a small waterfall. The sound of the falls is lulling me to sleep; not even the friendly mice can bother me.
Date: 2007-08-05
From: Cooper Brook Falls Lean-to

To: Wadleigh Stream Lean-to
Miles today: 21.5
Weather: broken clouds

I had been hiking for only a little over an hour this morning when, at Jo-Mary Road, I got trail magicked. The 100-Mile Wilderness was the last place I expected trail magic, since all of the roads that cross it are dirt and privately owned. As I was crossing the road, a man got out of a dingy old jalopy and offered me a peanut butter sandwich and doughnuts. ¢I¢m Warren Doyle,¢ he told me.I had heard of Warren Doyle, of course. Every thru-hiker has. He holds the record for the most number of times completing the Trail. He¢s currently working on his 15th. Crazy. I talked with Warren for a good half hour or so; I don¢t really agree with his lifestyle, but it¢s his to do with as he wishes, and I gotta admit, he¢s a pretty darn interesting guy. (Though I agree think his gut could use another thru-hike.)The Potaywadjo Spring Lean-to is nothing special, but the titular water source is amazing. So crystal clear and delicious, I think it would be a sin to treat it in any form. While we were there, a large group of Qu©b©cois girls from the same camp as the guys the other day, arrived at the shelter. My father ¢Moth¢ had written them a note of ¢bonne chance.¢ They were ecstatic about this, and they told me that I was a celebrity. I guess my father told them about my newspaper articles. The girls were much friendlier (not to mention far more attractive) than the guys, and it was fun to pretend to talk with them in my garbled French.Less than a mile past Potaywadjo Spring, Cheeze and I took the side trail to Pemadumcook Lake and took in Katahdin for the first time. It nearly knocked me off my feet, it seemed so close. It was huge. It is by far the largest mountain anywhere for a hundreds of miles. I can see why the AT ends there, and not Mount Washington, which would have been a horrible choice.To-night we are camped with Big Red, Jagged and Pete, all of whom thru-hiked in 2002 and are now out sectioing the 100-Mile Wilderness. Big Red¢s kept his beard since his thru-hike, and I must admit, it looks awesome. Both he and Jagged knew Restless (Heidi), who I met in Vermont hiking the Long Trail, and that just confirms, for me, the closeness of this wonderful community.