morvasaaty/AppalachianTrail-LD-Hikers-Blogs-and-Weather-20-years huggingface dataset:
Date: 2017-06-16
From: Delaware Water Gap 

To: Campsite 1310.3
Miles today: 16.7
Weather: broken clouds

I tented again in the church parking lot. A powerful skunk odor wafted through my thin walls for much of the night. And the birds wanted me out of PA, too, waking me with the deafening chattering at 4:45 a.m. Leaving town after a zero is never easy, so I enlisted their aid to get me out of bag.Shop Teacher and I decided to have another breakfast at the Village Farmer, despite its late 8 a.m. opening.  They made a killer egg and bacon sandwich. We headed out of PA about 9 a.m., joined by a fellow hiker named Kickstand, who had a prosthetic lower leg.  While most hikers were whining about how the rocks of PA were destroying their feet, he complained of how they mauled his stump.  To leave PA and enter NJ we crossed the Delaware River Bridge.  Eighteen wheelers roared by at breakneck speed mere feet away, separated from us by a puny three-feet high cement barrier. A sidewalk painting noted the moment of our crossing.  So did the several dead fish in the river below and an odor of rotting trash (not kidding).We climbed out of the Gap into the New Jersey highlands. This state, my 8th thus far, bore a similarlity to the 7th: rocks, and lots of them. Then it rained. To console ourselves we had lunch at the Mohican Outdoor Center. I sat down to Reuben sandwich, I believe my first on the hike.The wet weather and happy stomachs slowed us down, inducing us to stop about four miles shy of our initial goal, at a campsite alongside the trail.  A hiker named Potless was already camping there, and we three ate dinner together as a fine mist dampened everything except our spirits. Exhausted, I fell quickly asleep moments after retiring to the tent.Aside from reaching NJ, another milestone today was passing the 1300 mile mark.
Date: 2017-06-17
From: Campsite 1310.3

To: Mashipacong Shelter 
Miles today: 20.5
Weather: mist

It rained overnight, and the morning air was thick with fog. The realization I'm in NJ sinks in. I'm even north of NYC. This exhilarates me, but the elation doesn't last long.  I've still umpteen hundred miles to go, and all I can do about that today is to walk a small piece of it.  It adds up, though, and surprisingly quick.To wile away the time, I called Diane.  I huffed while she filled me in on the various activities of the family.  Just ahead I saw Shop Teacher pointing down at certain rocks, telling me they were slippery.  The first rocks I reached posed no difficulty, but in an instant my feet swept out from under me, and I fell hard on my right elbow.  For a few moments I sat there assessing the damage, finding nothing serious. Meanwhile Diane heard the entire commotion over the phone and asked me what happened and if I was okay. I'm okay, I assured her, but I was having trouble pushing the protruding bone back under the skin.  Later I sent her a photo of my elbow to prove that I had no protruding bones. It doesn't even need a bandaid, she said.  My ego wilted under her scorn.For the remainder of our hike, I approached all wet rocks suspiciously, and still fell yet again, this time on my rump.  Yet another time I spun 180 degrees, dropped my pole, and put my hands on the ground to remain upright. Since it would not have qualified as a legitimate football tackle, I don't count it as a fall.In the afternoon we stopped at Gyp Tavern, where I devoured a bacon cheeseburger, sweet potato fries, an ice cream sandwich, and a root beer. The tavern abuts a pond and has outdoor tables and a marvelous view, yet we ate inside so that we could recharge our phones. Priorities.Back on the trail, we ascended the summit of Sunrise mountain, reaching a pavilion beneath which a small group of five musicians sat playing their guitars and flute.  Shop Teacher requested Annie's Song, and they soon gave a touching rendition that elicited cheers from all within earshot when they finished. Then they invited us (which included Daddy Long Legs) to share their food, an offer they did not need to make twice.  I had shrimp, a roast beef sandwich, mixed nuts, ice tea.  Then they played more music, taking requests.  We sang along with them. It was getting late, we had enjoyed their company (and their food) far too long and had to resume our hike, lest we hike in the dark, so we bid them farewell.  We reached our shelter an hour before sunset, enjoyed a snack, and told ghost stories. Before darkness fully fell, Action Jackson and Young Giraffe came into camp, headlamps shining brightly.  Their arrival stirred more conversation, discussions of the trail, about people and creatures the saw.  The social aspect of the trail is what makes this hike outdtanding.
Date: 2017-06-18
From: Mashipacong Shelter 

To: Pochuck Shelter 
Miles today: 19.4
Weather: clear sky

Rain showers early in the morning put us on our guard for another day of slippery rocks.  We left camp at 8:30 a.m., a slow start.  Several hikers were spending a few extra moments to call their fathers and fathers-in-law to wish them a happy father's day.Our first objective was the High Point State Park Headquarters, where a free Pepsi was given to every thru-hiker. Never before had a can of soda been such a motivator as now.  At the HQ, we ate lunch, though it was only 11 a.m., and charged our phones.Shop Teacher and I used father's day as justification to have dinner at Wits Tavern, renowned for its pork ribs, located in Unionville, NY.  The meat was delicious, moist, and fell off the bone.Dinner ended late, about 6:30 p.m., and we still had over 5 miles before reaching the shelter.  Fortunately, much of the terrain was flat, passing along the perimeter of the Wallkill Nature Reserve. Before making the final climb up to the shelter, we got water from a spigot at the back of an abandoned home.  We reached the shelter as the last rays of the sun poked through the thick trees.  I needed my headlamp to set up the tent, another first for me on the trail.
Date: 2017-06-19
From: Pochuck Shelter 

To: Vernon, NJ
Miles today: 6.5
Weather: fog

Three days of dampness, heat, and exertion soaked every article of clothing in sweat and dirt. Stink permeated my very being. I wanted badly for a shower, and my clothes wanted for a cleaning. The threat of thunderstorms and heavy downpours gave us the excuse we needed to go into town and take ourselves a hotel room. The hike to town was a short one, only 6.5 miles; we reached it by 10 a.m.  A boardwalk, over 0.6 miles long, crossed over a large swamp.  The sun shone strong, causing me to wonder about the accuracy of the forecast.  Since our rooms would not be available until 11, we killed time by visiting the Heaven Farm bakery and Mitch's hotdog stand located on NJ.Shop Teacher and I shared a room at the Appalachian Motel.  We, Rocket Man, and Mr. T took a cab into town for resupply at the Acme market.  Towards late afternoon, the long awaited storm blew in.  Torrential rains fell briefly, and I was glad I was not out in the elements. The night air is now cool, portending fine hiking weather for tomorrow.
Date: 2017-06-20
From: Vernon, NJ

To: Wildcat Shelter
Miles today: 17.1
Weather: broken clouds

Left Vernon, NJ today.  After kissing a small Buddha statue on the dashboard, a madman drove Shop Teacher, Rocket Man, Mr. T., and I to the trailhead at 7 a.m. in his van.  It felt like an amusement park ride. My clutching a handle on the back of the front seat helped me keep myself upright.  What was the driver's rush?  I, in turn, kissed the ground after I exited the car, but in my haste to evacuate, I left my water bottle in the van.  Unknowingly, I climbed Wawayanda mountain, a 900 foot ascent called "the stairway to heaven", without any water.  I became immediately knowing once I reached the top and for my bottle in a side pocket of my pack, only to discover it missing. Fortunately, today's march through NJ passed several water sources, so my thirst lasted but a short while.    Shortly after noon, we passed into New York, taking a few moments to take a few photos of ourselves straddling the state line.  After a short stint, we reached Prospect Rock, the highest point in NY on the AT.  Shop, Rocket Man, and I stopped there for lunch.  An American flag atop the Rock blew in the breeze.      NY is proving to be deceptively difficult, with its many steep and abrupt ups and down over boulders. Some of the ups required hand over hand rock scrambling; some of the downs, butt sliding.  A ladder constructed of rebar was built into a rock wall to assist our climb.  It was hard work. Our hiking pace dropped well below 2 mph.The people of NY came to our aid, giving us trail magic on Rte 17A.  Then we went to the Bellvale Creamy, a short hike along 17A, for insanely delicious milkshakes.  On our final stretch to the Wildcat shelter, Shop Teacher and I saw two rattlesnakes nestled in a crevice between two rocks.  We also saw a black bear not more than 20 yards away. It nonchalantly turned its backside to us and ambled before us on the trail.  We followed at a safe distance, until it veered off the path into the woods.
Date: 2017-06-21
From: Wildcat Shelter

To: William Brien Memorial Shelter 
Miles today: 19.6
Weather: clear sky

NY is tough, and today's hike was brutal. Like yestrrday, today Shop Teacher and I encountered many steep and rocky ups and downs.  The rocky ups required hand over hand scrambles where you don't dare look down. Our average speed is declining, falling below 2 mph. Later we hear similar complaints from the younger hikers, so I am consoled - misery loves company.  We pass through the Lemon Squeezer, a tight path through a crevasse between boulders. The challenge is to pass through without taking your pack off. A heavier version of me would have not squeezed through, but my new svelte self made it through successfully.  Immediately after the squeeze, we climbed an eight foot wall with scant handhold and footholds. Again the challenge was to ascend without taking off your pack.  My nimbleness surprised me.In the early evening we took a long detour to Tiorati Lake because we believed there was a concession stand there.  Visions of cheeseburgers danced in my head.  My disappointment was profound when I discovered only vending machines.  All was not lost, for one machine sold ice cream sandwiches, no small consolation prize, and took credit cards.I'm starting to see familiar landmarks.  I crossed Rte 17, the very highway I traveled often to college in upstate NY.
Date: 2017-06-22
From: William Brien Memorial Shelter 

To: Graymoor Spiritual Shelter 
Miles today: 16.6

When you walk upwards of 15 miles in a day, you see so much, especially when the trail takes you over a popular mountain top, such as Bear Mt., through a zoo, and across the Hudson River. Bear Mt. bustled with day hikers and bikers, several of which wanted their photos taken with Shop Teacher, as if he were a celebrity figure, just because he was thru-hiking. As we climbed, we enjoyed views of the Hudson. You could even see the New York City skyline, over 30 miles away. The zoo was lame.  Most of the animals could not be seen, perhaps inside escaping from the heat or perhaps having escaped their cages. The bear den was at the lowest elevation on the AT, a mere 120 feet above sea level. This is appropriate because it was a low point of the hike.  The two penned bears looked miserable, one of them hobbling as though it had a broken back, the other walking listlessly.  Dozens of turkey vultures filled their pen, as though waiting for them to die.  I couldn't help make the contrast between them and the three bears I saw earlier that morning in the woods, bears that were active, healthy, and free.Early in the morning we crossed the Palisades Parkway at 8 a.m., rush hour. It was insane.  Cars flashed by at well over 60 miles an hour.  Crossing was more dangerous than meeting 3 bears in the woods.  Something needs to be done to improve hiker safety at this crossing before someone gets killed. At present, there's not even a sign to alert the drivers. Shop Teacher and I met Multi-tool at the Deli & Appalachian Market on Rte. 9. The three of us filled our maws with sandwiches and resupplied.  The trail passes near many such delis now, and I find I can't resist their magnetic draw. Afterwards, we three hiked the short distance to the Graymoor Spiritual Center, which permits tenting on its huge ballfield.  We had crossed the 1400 mile mark today.  The night was warm and clear, but the mosquitoes were out in the billions.
Date: 2017-06-23
From: Graymoor Spiritual Shelter 

To: Clarence fahnestock state park
Miles today: 13.8
Weather: light rain

The humidity today was horrible; I felt I was breathing water. Every article of clothing oozed sweat.  They could not have been more wet if I had submersed them in water.My objective today was to meet Nancy and Emily at Clarence Fahnestock State Park, where both worked.  The AT passes within 0.2 miles of it, so it is an easy side trip.  Nancy is the sister of friends of Diane and I, Jim and Mike, from our years in California.  Emily is their niece.  They treated me like family, and for this I am grateful.  Such warm, immediate acceptance of a smelly, old man who, for all intents and purposes, is homeless, is comforting. I am indebted to them.I set up camp in one of the three tent sites at the State Park designated for AT hikers, who camp for free.  In a nearby tent site was Joe Cruz, a 72 year old from Yonkers who tirelessly cooked meals for thru-hikers.  He made a mean egg and sausage sandwich.  That night he loaned me his battery charger ovetnigjt so I could recharge my phone, provided I returned it by 6 a.m.  This I promised to do. Shop Teacher and Multi-tool have moved on ahead.  I plan to visit my mom in Poughkeepsie on Sunday, so I'm putting in shorter days in order to be at the rendezvous point at a set time.
Date: 2017-06-24
From: Clarence fahnestock state park

To: Morgan Stewart Shelter
Miles today: 14.0
Weather: mist

I awoke to the patter of heavy rainfall on the tent. 5 a.m.  I checked the weather radar and found the rain would stick around for a few hours at least.  I had told Joe Cruz the previous night that I would be at his campsite at 6 a.m., to return his battery charger, and to enjoy breakfast. The rain made me regret my promise.  Nonetheless, I put on my raingear and strolled to his site.    I was the first hiker to arrive (he invited many of us last eve) and found him standing under an umbrella positioned over the picnic table.  I returned his charger and settled in for a egg and sausage sandwich, his specialty, a piece of apple pie, and a large cup of coffee.  I thanked him effusively between each bite.  About 8:30 a.m., I wended my way back to the State Park to have a second breakfast.  The rain had stopped and the sky was clearing.  Jim's neice, Nancy's daughter, Emily arrived at the concession about 9 a.m., and I became her first customer.  My appetite has become insatiable.  She showed me photos, sent to her from her uncle Jim, of Diane and I in the early 1980s.  It's hard for me to imagine myself as that young, brown haired skinny guy, who is even skinnier than I am now.  Diane, on the other hand, does not seem to have aged much at all.  I suspect she has a portrait of herself in an attic somewhere that is doing all the aging.  I thanked Emily for her courtesy to an imperfect stranger (I had donned my damp, sweaty hiking clothes again) and headed back to the trail. During the mid day I got off the trail to eat a sub sandwich at the Mountain top Deli.  So many delis; so little time.  I settled at Morgan Stewart shelter, after a relatively short day of 14 miles. Tomorrow I will have an even shorter day, as I plan to meet my sister, Michele, and my mother at a parking lot alongside the trail.  They will drive me to mom's place near Poughkeepsie for a day of good eats and good company.
Date: 2017-06-25
From: Morgan Stewart Shelter

To: Pleasant Valley
Miles today: 3.4
Weather: clear sky

Going to Pleasant Valley to visit mom today.  My sister, Michele, is picking me up at the Nuclear Lake Municipal Parking Lot at 9 a.m., a mere 3.4 miles from last night's campsite at Morgan Stewart Shelter. The day is sunny, warm. A few thin wisps float by overhead.    I arrived at the lot early, at 8:30 a.m.  I tried to text Michele that I have arrived, but,  lo, I have no cell service here.  AT&T knows when I need service most and manages to fail me at those critical moments.  One of my first acts when this journey is over will be to find a different service provider. Michele and mom pulled in at 9 a.m. on the nose. They had brought Dunkin Donuts coffee and an egg sandwich for me. They also had a box of donuts. I wept tears of joy, eating the entire drive back to mom's house. Michele could not resist telling me I looked emaciated and stunk to high heaven. Mom said she would not have recognized me if not for the photos on my journal. Family can be so blunt.  On the bright side, Mom said she could not smell a thing, but I noticed her car window was open. In the afternoon, I did a small resupply and saw Michele's new apartment (it's perfect for her) on our way to picking up my son, Dan, and his fianc© Julie from the train station. The couple made a herculean effort to see me and mom, travelling well over 2 hours by trains to get into town. Their faces still glowed from their recent engagement announcement.  I can't begin to describe how wonderful it was to see them.  Later that evening we all four feasted on Chinese food and ate apple pie. All this normal food is creating great gastric distress. Give me a good old Clif bar over a plate of General Tso chicken any day.  Needless to say I was hungry again about an hour later, but that is typical for me after eating Chinese food, and is unrelated to hiker hunger.After dinner, we had a harrowing ride back to the train station.  We cut it too close, timewise, but they made the return train with four minutes to spare. Tomorrow I return to the trail, but not before a decent breakfast!
Date: 2017-06-26
To: 10 Mile River Shelter 
Miles today: 17.2
Weather: broken clouds

I slept last night comfortably, with an overhead fan turning slowly over my bed, a window opened slightly allowing for a cool breeze, and an overwhelming skunk smell wafting in, so strongly i expected to find it at the foot of my bed. But I've learned from the trail to get used to bad odors, particularly my own, and soon I no longer noticed the stank of the skunk.Mom, Michele, and I had a scrumptious breakfast at the Village Restaurant in Pleasant Valley. We feasted leisurely, this meal being a memorable highlight of my adventures that I did not wish to rush. They brought me to the trailhead shortly before 11 am. Parting was such sweet sorrow.Hiking conditions were nigh perfect, sunny, warm in the 60s, a slight breeze, and friendly terrain, mostly flat and smooth. New York came in like a lion and out like a lamb. I crossed into Connecticut around 6 p.m. and reached my destination, the 10 Mile River Shelter, at 7:30 p.m. My tent sat in a campsite near the junction of two rivers, the 10 Mile River and the Housatonic River. So did the tents of about twenty 12-year old boys, who were out on a youth group trip. They were energetic and charged with adventure. I vaguely recalled being that young once, and I fully understood their excitement; here they were, away from home, camping and joking with their best buds! At 10 p.m., they were still going strong, their voices and laughter filling the woods. Some tried to talk in muffled tones, but sound carries far at night. Even whispers I could clearly hear. There's no telling how late they stayed awake because exhaustion caught up to me and knocked me unconscious despite the clamour.Earlier in the day I had eaten at Roseann's kitchen, a food truck that served burgers and milkshakes just two tenths of a mile from the Appalachian Trail RR station. A laminated flyer on the boardwalk leading to the station had alerted me to its existence, demonstrating the power of a well placed advertisement. Later that afternoon, I had also enjoyed trail magic at the Wiley Shelter, courtesy of Captain Jack's aunt and uncle. I mooched a coke, root beer, and about a half pound of watermelon. I have become an unabashed partaker of trail magic, which has abounded in the mid-Atlantic states. The downside of trail magic, if there can be such a thing, is that I don't eat much of the food I am carrying. In other words, I am carrying extra weight unnecessarily, a hiking no-no. Notwithstanding, I cannot resist the instant gratification brought about by treats I can't ordinarily carry with me, so extra weight be damned.
Date: 2017-06-27
To: Silver Hill Campsite
Miles today: 19.0

The camp counselor moved among the tents singing, "it's time to get up". I checked the time on my phone : 6:45 a.m. I was surprised; I couldn't recall the last time I'd slept that late. Perhaps the soothing sound of the nearby Housatonic had hypnotized me. I broke camp with a sense of urgency; I did not want to get caught behind a group of twenty hikers, which I could hear stirring. Soon they began pouring out of their tents like bees from their hives. Fortunately I was more focused then they were. Most milled about aimlessly until told directly what to do by their counselor. I did not envy his job.As I departed, I heard behind me a chorus of goodbyes. I turned about to find almost all of them standing together waving goodbye to me. I laughed aloud and waved farewell in return. My smile did not dim as I crossed over the 10 Mile River Bridge and started the day's trek.The trail today crossed back into NY and then in two short miles back into CT. Rumors had it that CT was "nice." Nice it was, but not easy. It had so many ups and downs, the cumulative effect was wearing. Also, the descent from Calebs Peak was downright harrowing, a long, steep descent on stone steps down to the Housatonic river. I came down at a snail's pace, being careful of each footing before taking the next step. The trail is not without its perils. I considered how lucky I was that the stones were dry; rain threatened throughout the day, and there was occasional thunder, but no precipitation.In the late afternoon the trail became a hiker's delight, effectively flat and parallel to the gently flowing Housatonic. Connecticut was a friend indeed. Then, as I've experienced all too frequently, I hit a steep incline on the day's final leg to reach the Silver Hill Campsite.The campsite was impressive. It had many flat spaces ideal for a tent, a pavilion with a picnic table, a privy, a deck with bench seats along two sides, a bench swing, and pump. Cell service was best near the swing, so I did my texting as I swung gently back and forth. One of the other hikers pumped madly at the well. The guidebook indicated that it would take between 35 and 40 pumps to raise water, a bit of a deterrent to someone whose trailname translates to "the lazy man." When water gushed forth, several of us ran over with our water bottles to capitalize on his labor. Apparently I was not the only lazy man present.
Date: 2017-06-28
From: Silver Hill Campsite

To: Limestone Spring Shelter 
Miles today: 18.0
Weather: few clouds

I met Bassman in TN, back in March.  Bassman has a passion for hiking.  He's been thru-hiking sections of the AT since the 1990s, and has about 109 miles remaining.  He said for me to contact him when I reached CT.  I couldn't imagine reaching CT, but as I neared the state, he contacted me, with his schedule.Met Bassman and his lovely wife Patti.  They greeted me at Waters St., Falls Village. He brought out a bag of McDonald's burgers, a cooler full of beer and sodas.  Other hikers appeared, and they distributed burgers and drinks to all.  Handed out candy bars, granola bars, Cheez Its. After, we had dinner at the B&B.