morvasaaty/AppalachianTrail-LD-Hikers-Blogs-and-Weather-20-years huggingface dataset:
Date: 2009-08-07
From: Gren Anderson Shelter

To: Unionville
Miles today: 20.1

I see from the mileage that I crept over my 20 mile maximum today. I try to avoid it but rules are made to be broken and I reckon I can excuse myself the unwanted 0.2mile. It didn¢t feel like a big day though and sitting down just after it, it is difficult to remember exactly what I did get up to today. After 100 plus days an average Trail mile can become just that ¢ average, and as a result forgettable.That¢s definitely one downside to thru hiking. Why in some respects a two week trip can be better than a five month one. During two weeks every day is treasured but during five months the same day, the same experience can be just another day ¢ hard to remember, hard to get excited about, but that¢s ok as the thru hike rewards in other ways. The highlights endure but, for me, more that anything it¢s the pleasure of the way of life. Today more that anything else I probably immersed myself in those pleasures.Things did happen today, mostly unexceptional things, and as I sit here I can dredge some of them back:I wandered up Sunrise Mountain and enjoyed a brief rest and the views from the pavilion at the top; I met three north bound thru hikers who lasted past me as I sauntered along. It¢s easy (and not clever) to criticise but in my mind I immediately christened them ¢The Gonzales¢ for their speed. I¢m sure I detected a slight speed wobble as one rounded a bend in the Trail and then shot off down the wrong path before correcting himself. Aye lads ¢ less haste more speed. They were young and I am old. They could and I couldn¢t care. Good luck to them - it must be a mighty fine adventure;I sat on a slab of rock under blue skies and ate lunch. I enjoyed my lunch but it wasn¢t enough. Am I happy for small mercies (and Doles mandarin oranges in gel), or do I curse my misfortune and bemoan my luck? No, I am happy. I curse no-one but maybe I do wish I had a couple mire Milky Way bars;Speaking of eating, I was eaten by a number of mosquitoes. Do I curse them? Always. They are not too bad and I think I am becoming more immune to their after effects but I do curse them. If the truth be told I wish them all dead. Am I a bad man? ;I walked with fine views of High Point Monument, New Jersey. They were truly fine views and it was also a very fine monument. I wondered just how fine my photographs would be and whether my photograph might help reach a conclusive decision;I walked through some wet farmland and into Unionville where I ate sorbet (no substitute for ice cream), drank fruit juice and pitched my tent in the town¢s park. Everybody else goes, without question, to the hostel that is, I guess, why I don¢t.
Date: 2009-08-14
From: Morgan Stewart Shelter

To: Wiley Shelter
Miles today: 16.5
Weather: light rain

People ask ¢why the Appalachian Trail again?¢ and it¢s a good question. I say I want to relive some of the good stuff about Trail Life, not the specifics but the general joys of Trail Life: not being dragged down by nonsense; sleeping well every night, getting real joy from a 5 minute conversation with strangers; being somewhere you have truly chosen to be; being outdoors.I want that familiarity but I also want a whole new set of specific memories: meeting new people; staying in new places; having sunshine in places where previously I had rain; being in the same place with a different outlook.And it will be different. I¢m different, I¢m 6 years older. If I could just hang with the young kids last time (and want to). This time I¢m a bit more distant and that gives me a new perspective so I very much felt it would be a new experience and not merely trying to recapture something from the past. That said, what has surprised me, particularly since Harper¢s Ferry is just how much I have been able to enrich those memories from 2003. Memories that were isolates are being given structure. In 2003 some places, times and distances were a blur ¢ I¢d no frame of reference with which to order them. In my memories Vernon, NJ seemed awfully far up the Trail when really its nearer half-way. I could remember some evenings clearly but not where they were to how far apart they are.Now I know the order of the states, have a list of significant Trail towns, remember the strange and changing licensing laws, am aware of the mountains and rivers. I came here to create !AT 2009¢ memories but by doing that there is no doubt I have been able to enshrine and enrich those from 2003. So last night¢s shelter was the lunch break with the water pump (now moved) and tonight¢s was the Boat and Thor Shelter. Now I know why in that memory I arrived late. I arrived late because I was going to Kent tomorrow and to get there I had to do a long day and big miles. This year, though, there were no big miles ahead of me.This year, instead of marching straight past Nuclear, I could take 45 minutes to rest by the banks (still not long enough but an improvement). This year, instead of rushing past Telephone Pioneer Shelter, I could stop to eat; enjoy the warmth of the sun; to read the register and see the Pete has passed through on the first of August; and to pick up a cowboy book for some bedtime reading during the days to come.This year, instead of arriving at the Appalachian Railroad Station in the cool of the evening and enjoying dinner, I arrived in the scorching mid-afternoon sun, and so while I wanted to relive and recapture those moments of 2003 instead I mopped my brow, exhaled loudly and hurried on to get water at the Garden Centre. And finally, this year I arrived at Wiley Shelter not to Boat and Thor but to Ramble On, Macaroni, Firefly and Icarus. That¢s as may be but I think to me it will always be the Boat and Thor Shelter.
Date: 2009-08-18
From: Limestone Spring Lean To

To: The Hemlocks Lean To
Miles today: 17.5

I was up early to say goodbye to Charlie and to mosey on down to Salisbury: to catch the post office as it opened; to top up my snacks; and to visit America¢s first ever public library. It made me stop and think, libraries are such a great resource but I¢d never stopped to think about how they started and particularly how the great unwashed managed to gin access. Apparently in the US it started in Salisbury mainly as a children¢s library (to encourage literacy) and now it¢s all DVDs and internet access, and in this case the great unwashed is, quite literally, your truly.With everything done the Trail beckoned. I cannot lie though I was dreading heading out into Mosi Hell but what else could I do? It was grin and bear it time.As ever though there is nothing to fear but fear itself and miraculously the rest of the day would be bug free. It was not, however, completely free of hassles as I got a blister and had to change out of my shoes into my sandals so once again everything was OK.There was a steepish up to Lion¢s Head and then even more up to Bear Mountain. It felt really great to be climbing again. I¢d missed this, the mid-Atlantic states rolled along and while there were plenty of ups and downs they lacked anything requiring commitment or giving any sense of achievement. That had gone on too long and while early Connecticut had hinted at this it was nice to be plodding on, putting in a concerted effort and gaining the satisfaction of reaching some lofty top. I know there is much much more of this to come and I was happy to get an initial reminder of it today.But, it¢s not all about the uphills. It was also nice to wander down to Sage¢s Ravine, to stroll along the bank of a mountain creek, to find a nice flat rock in the stream where I could take off my socks and shoes, could eat and read as the water rushed by. Contrast and variety ¢ I like it.Crossing the ravine it was goodbye to Connecticut. It had its moments ¢ today¢s climb, meeting Jeff, Angela, Charlie, Ten Mile River, Great Falls but it also had mosquitoes. And for that reason alone I wasn¢t overly sorry to see the back of it.The climb up Race Mountain was fun but long ¢ or maybe I was just slowing down ass the day took its toll. Nearer the top the Trail hugged the edge of the mountain as the ground fell away sharply to the lowlands below. The view was expansive and it was a great place to sit, let the breeze ruffle my hair and soak it all in. The problem being that I wanted to stop every 10 minutes. On about my third stop the ridgerunner ¢Overkill¢ came past and informed me that I wasn¢t as far along the Trail as I had hoped (but privately feared).With miles to go I suppose it was time to get moving again, over the top of Race Mountain and on towards Mount Everett. I was done energy wise but not miles wise so I stopped atop a windy Mount Everett to eat diner before one last effort; eventually rolling into tonight¢s shelter at 7.15pm.
Date: 2009-09-14
From: Imp Campsite

To: Gorham, NH
Miles today: 8.0
Weather: broken clouds

In the past one of the cleverer ways I found to try and explain what was so great about the trail was to say, that 'nobody has sleepless nights on the trail'. No insomnia, no worrying about work, the kids or West Brom's apparent inability to cement their place back in the upper echelon of English soccer. No tossing and turning, no staring into the darkness looking for the ceiling. However, that's not quite true at the moment. The cold is taking its toll. Even when it is warm the cold hangs over me. Last night I lay awake, then I dozed, then I woke, then I kinda slept and now I'm kinda tired.It was still cold and cloudy today but the White Mountains would soon be behind me and they had been kind to me. Even when the weather had been bad it had been benign and for 5 days it had been pretty close to perfect. I wondered how I might have coped with any really bad stuff and the truth, I guess, is that I didn't know but that I reckon I would have coped. Needs must. Fortunately I had no needs.I descended below the clouds once again and wandered on, glad to be heading to town; looking forward to a shower, a bath and the resupply that would launch me on the next leg of this journey.The Town and Country Inn supplied the room and an initial shower. The library connected me to the outside world, to some welcome words from folks back home and to West Brom's latest efforts to regain Premiership status. The diner/pub place supplied pizza and beer. The laundry confused me when I found women's undergarments in my machine. This couldn't be right. I had, after all, left all my women's undergarments back at home. Ahhhh, I've got it - 'my' machine was not my machine at all. My machine was the one next to it. Pheww, what a relief.Groceries turned out to be a bit of a pain. I walked to Shaws to find it no more. A victim of the global recession or of local (rural) economics I could not tell. Oh well, on to Wal-Mart, except Wal-Mart was miles away. This was definately the biggest challenge to my walk everywhere philosophy, but once a cranky self righteous eccentric always a cranky self righteous eccentric. Walk I would. In fact, walk I mustBack at the hotel it was beers in the bath time, Monday night football time, dinner in the restaurant time, more Monday night football time , more beers in the bath time and a little more Monday night football time. By now the time was 2am and this time I couldn't blame my 'insomnia' on the cold bleak nights. I would suffer tomorrow.
Date: 2009-09-15
From: Gorham, NH

To: Trident Col Tentsite
Miles today: 6.9

Ah the far north, its beauty, its wildness, its apparent remoteness. Its probably not so remote though, Andover and Rangely lay ahead being way off the trail they might as well have been on the moon as far as this hiker was concerned. Instead I planned to aim for Stratton -110 miles to the north - plus a few extra road miles.8 days I reckoned. 8 days food. The same 8 days food I had lugged all the way from Wal-Mart (about half the distance to the moon). Self imposed torture? Maybe, but also self imposed pleasure.I have been struggling with rationing my food, or more accurately with my self-control, ever since North Adams. I wouldn't say I've gone hungry but I have been ravenous. Constantly dipping into what had been set aside for the day after or the day after that. If I continued to do that over teh next eight days I would have nothing left by day 6. Something had to be done. Order had to be forced upon the chaos.And so this morning I sat on the hotel floor making eight neat piles of food, eight days rations., eight little bags each with its own little number. Numbers 1 to 8, a number for each day.It was heavy of course, not just because of the number of days but also because I've grown to realise that I simply need more food each day. I'd five pounds of tinned fruit alone - one tin for each day, one tin in each bag. I had jerky, and balance bars, and pop tarts. I had tortillas and tuna and cheese. I had ginger nuts and I had 32 candy bars. I had a lot and still I knew I didn't have enough. I knew I wouldn't go hungry but I knew I would want more. I knew it was the cost I would have to pay.My left knee was playing up a little and the road walk wasn't much fun. Probably too far without a break but I just wanted to get out of town and into the woods again, not wanting to rest by the side of the road. I crossed the river and what looked like a hydro electric plant and then once safely back in the woods (about 100 yards back into the woods) I dropped my heavy load and rested. It would be like this for the next couple of days - little and often, short miles. In today's case mostly uphill miles. Uphill but manageable although I was weary. Two indifferent, short nights sleeps had preceded this and I had the feeling I would sleep well tonight.I stopped on some great slabs of rock just before the top of Mt Hayes and then shuffled on towards Trident Col Tentsite, setting up for the night.Today had really just been another repositioning day: getting out of town, making a few miles, eating some of the weight out of my pack and it must be said enjoying some fine views. There had been signs of Moose but still no sightings of Moose. The wildlife being limited this evening to a few mosquitos. I wondered how my non airtight tent might cope. I didn't wander long though - I was too busy sleeping.
Date: 2009-09-19
From: Wild Camp on Old Blue Mtn

To: Sabbath Day Pond Lean-to
Miles today: 16.0
Weather: few clouds

A cold nose is pretty fair sign of a cold night and last night my nose was distinctly chilly.I'd turned in early and listened to the wind howling through the trees. Sleep did come though and when I woke, given the temperature and near total darkness, I thought it was probably around 3 or 4 am. Imagine my disappointment, is disappointment the right word? No, image my amusement when I discovered it was only 10:58! I reached for my down jacket, it was going to be a long night.I looked at my battered shoes. They were in a bad way, one sole slowly losing contact with the upper. I would try to eek out one more day, and then another. I still had my sandals but I had it in my mind to nurse the shoes through to Stratton. My rain jacket was suffering too. The waterproof lining had long since started to separate and last night I had tried to glue it back with my tent glue but all I actually managed was to briefly glue my jacket to my pants. Oh well, I tried.I headed on up Old Blue and although I was still below tree line it was windy, misty and chilly. There were no views and my fingers were suffering in the way that extremities often do. Then the day began to take hold and as it did the mist lifted, the sky cleared, the sun worked its magic and the wind gusted rather than howled. Things were looking up.Up on the Beamis Range a long stretch of exposed flat rock offered fantastic views of the Maine countryside. This is what makes Maine so so special. Its a fantastic mix. Its flat, its up, its down; you find exposed rock, roots and trail; you get views and you spend time in the trees; you cross mountain streams and wander the mountains themselves. All that and a feeling of isolation and wildness; the sense that nature has never lost control, that here it is man that is marginalised.I had sat on the ridge, snacking and enjoying the views. At Beamis Stream I sat, snacked and enjoyed the isolation. I climbed up to the road and found a bench. The roadside wouldn't be my first choice for a break but the view! Yes, I sat and snacked as I looked out over the mountains and lakes. I think a pattern was developing.The final 4 miles were a slow affair but I was in no rush and when Long Pond arrived it became my latest excuse to take a break. Dinner as the waves lapped at the shore and the sinking sun dazzled off the pond's surface.A day of solitude but an evening of camaraderie. Ryan and Kelly had come out from Portland for a night in the woods and they were great company: friendly, talkative, enthusiastic, polite. What more could you ask.
Date: 2009-09-21
From: Redington Stream Campsite

To: Crocker Cirque Campsite
Miles today: 16.5
Weather: clear sky

Aside #1I'm fear I'm becoming a frightful boar (what do you mean 'becoming'?). Every day its beautiful this, peaceful that. Everyday plays out under clear blue skies. Everybody I meet is happy. The mountains stand majestic, the birds sing just for me and bands of dusky maidens attend to my every need (well maybe not the last one). And while it may sound false it actually is pretty much my lot these days. Yes, there are hours of uneventful walking, miles without views, great swathes that are really nothing to write home about. Yes, maybe I overdo it from time to time but its not difficult to find the great bits out here; it can just be tricky to write about them.Aside #2People say that Maine and New Hampshire are hard; and 'yes it is' but 'no its not'.Sure its hard to go 3 miles per hour and its hard to go 20 miles in a day but I don't think anybody ever got this far and said 'Bugger this, I simply cant do it'.So yes, its not a walk in the park; its a walk in the mountains, a walk in the wild.Its not hard, its slow. Its also the stuff of dreams.Aside #3'You'll never get the good of that jacket if you keep it on inside'Oh how I remember that particular pearl of wisdom from my youth. I've even grown up to see the sense of it, maybe even to repeat it. But its been turned on its head out here.Now its more like 'You'll never get the good of that jacket if you put it on outside'Now I persevere as long as possible before each new layer goes on. Otherwise I might not get the good of it when I go inside. Inside my tent, inside my sleeping bag and quite possibly inside my jacket if the night gets particularly chilly.Aside #4Today I stopped for a 'second lunch' on Sugarloaf Mountain. Boy do I hate that 'second lunch' thing, or that 'third breakfast' thing or, for that matter, any 'ordinal' before a recognised meal thing (breakfast, lunch, dinner, supper, nibbles, brunch - you name it).If I've seen one register entry proudly proclaiming the novelty of a 2nd, 3rd or, just to outdo the competition (is it really a contest), a 4th breakfast, then I've seen about 150, which is at least 150 too many.They are not second or third breakfasts, they are snacks!! It actually shows that the first breakfast wasn't a breakfast at all. Splitting 2 packets of pop tarts over 4 sittings is not 4 breakfasts!!Its stupid and silly; and the only sillier thing I can thing of, is writing about it.Aside #5Today I met Mosi the dog. A dafter dog I think you will struggle to find. Absolutely crackers but lovely, however, not all dogs are like Mosi. Some bark at you and everybody else. And then their owner will tell you, with a straight face, and wait for it, that its 'because of the beard' or 'because of the backpack'. Bollocks!! Its because its a badly behaved dog. Its because it is a badly trained dog. Its because you are a poor dog owner. Its also a pathetic excuse.
Date: 2009-09-24
From: Wild Camp North of Bog Brook Road

To: Pierce Pond Lean-to
Miles today: 15.0
Weather: broken clouds

It finally happened. Around 7a.m., just before Long Falls Road, and with less than 200 miles left of my second thru hike, I finally saw a moose. A real live moose. A big bull moose with big bull moose antler things. A big bull moose looking pretty much like the big bull moose on the front cover of my copy of Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods. They do exist.I got up at six in the half dark (definately more half dark than half light) and it was still decidedly murky as I emerged from the trees where I camped to rejoin the trail and continue north. Then I heard a noise of to my right. Almost a muffled human voice.I'd heard something similar two or three times now, each time off in the woods somewhere. The first time I thought it sounded a little like a couple of hunters prowling about in the woods; but if it was then the conversation was distinctly one sided. A muffled voice but no reply. I'd strain my ears but nothing, then maybe the hint of 'conversation' again.Here it was again this morning. I paused and peered through the undergrowth, listening and looking for movement, trying to get a fix on what might be out there. Then the hint of something. Something dark. Were my eyes deceiving me or was something there. The impression of form, nothing certain. I lost it (if it actually existed), moving on, silent and aware.There it was again. A little more certain this time; not just a hint of form but also a hint of movement. A back? Could I be sure?By now I was 60% certain something was out there, something biggish, something snapping branches beneath its feet, something, dare I say it, moose like. I stopped, quiet as could be, it was coming this way; still off to my right but definitely heading down towards the trail. The morning was still dark and little light penetrated the foliage as I continued to peer into the gloom. Perfect conditions for dark patches to thrive and multiply but one of those dark patches was slowly but surely turning from an indistinct splodge into the dark but definite silhouette of a moose and then into the classic visage of your average bull moose. Big snout, unbelievably deep from top to bottom, a seriously supersized head complete with a pair of seriously supersized antlers.We looked at each other for maybe a second and a half, maybe 10 yards between us; then it turned and bolted, not far maybe another 10 yards, paused, looked back and once again deciding to take flight.Off it crashed, off through the woods and out of my life.