morvasaaty/AppalachianTrail-LD-Hikers-Blogs-and-Weather-20-years huggingface dataset:
Date: 2007-04-29
From: Clyde Smith Shelter

To: Overmountain Shelter
Miles today: 13.3
Weather: broken clouds

One of the great things about a nomadic existence is the immediacy it brings to life. When I wake up and peek at the sunrise, I know it's the only time I'll see that particular sunrise over that particular horizon. So I look good and hard at it. I see so many beautiful things during the course of the day that it almost brings an ache or a frustration because I know they're transient. The photographer in me wants to capture their image, to own them. The librarian in me wants to hold these sights through language and classification. However, the traveller in me looks on, appreciates, and then lets go.Along with getting rid of my possessions back in the city, I've learned to drop the archivist's desire to collect and classify. That's not to say I dumbly let the experiences slip through my fingers. Rather, I sieze them with an immediacy and vigor that I've not known before. Out here, as with many places or situations, language and ownership fall sadly short of completing raw experience. We have no greater instruments of recording moments than our eyes, hearts, and the present.Today saw Roan Mountain, a long climb. Beautiful crisp spring weather. I learned to identify and dig ramps and put some in my dinner. (Ramps are a delicious and potent wild onion plant that grows in Southern Appalachia). There were a ton of people at Overmountain Shelter--thru hikers and a group of high school kids. We somehow managed to yogi some s'mores from the kids, and they lobbed marshmallows at us while we clamored over them like caged animals. Did more thinking today about those chickens too.
Date: 2007-04-30
From: Overmountain Shelter

To: Campsite at Elk River
Miles today: 14.9

I've been thinking a lot about resiliance. A hiker's body needs to be resiliant as does the mind. We've been led over some tough terrain out here. Bad Influence likens us to trained mice in a maze who follow the blazes regardless of where they go. We climb big hills, straining every muscle all the way to the top. Then, at the top, we promptly forget about our tiredness because we're already looking to see what's further up the trail and around the next bend. Some may call that attitude "stupidity", but I'd like to think it's purely a factor of resiliance.Days like today make every mountain climb worthwhile. The morning started off with an awe inspiring stroll across Big Hump (no joke--that's the name). Then Forrest's friend, Chris, parked at Route 19 and hiked south to meet us. We managed to coerce him into running Forrest and Lala into town to do a Subway and McDonalds run. While the sandwhich run went down, I soaked my feet in the stream then got a footrub. Really, the "wilderness" experience doesn't get any better than this. The day ended with a freezing but totally refreshing shower in Janes Falls where Spaceman slipped and fell 20 feet. He managed to land on his feet...again, hiker resiliance at work.The woods of Tennessee feel very inhabited. Dirt bike, 4-wheeler, and hiker paths run through the forest floor and converge and diverge constantly. Piles of trash and appliances dating back to the depression era are piled high in the valleys. I love it. Seriously, I do. It reminds me of summer's during my childhood when I was allowed to run wild in the woods behind my house where the train tracks ran past the neighborhood rubbish piles. Today, at the junction of a handful of small trails and dirt roads, I found a little cinderblock building that gave me the perfect privy-like privacy. I dubbed it the "Tennessee Pee Shack".Update on the Bad Influence toenail situation:In the past 24 hours, B.I. has lost both of the toenails on his big toes. The first one was flicked into the shrubbery at Overmountain. The second was thoughtfully placed on the trail near Elk River.
Date: 2007-05-01
From: Campsite at Elk River

To: Kincora Hostel
Miles today: 17.6

We enter another calendar month on the trail and we passed the 400 mile mark today.Too many people have to get off the trail because they run out of money. It's surprisingly easy to spend a lot of cash out here even though we have no rent to pay and hostel stays are as low as $4 per night. When I decided to do this hike, I threw together a uber-nerdy Excel spreadsheet to help me figure out my on-trail finances. I'm "earning" $2.00 per mile out here which means, for example, that I allot myself a $120.00 town budget if I walk 60 miles. It's a good system for me; it allows me to keep tabs on my expenses and also motivates me to walk a bit further between towns instead of stopping every 2 days for re-supply. I also gave myself a little cash for shoes, gear, and a little nest egg for when the hike is finished. One of the cost that really gets people out here is drinking. I heard about some hikers who were stuck in Franklin drunk in a hotel room for 9 days. Fortunately, the trail's turned me into a 2 beer wonder of a cheap date. My financial achilles heel is places like Paddler's Pub in Hot Springs where the food bill is on par with an expensive big city restaurant. When I come off the trail and into town, I'm so hungry for town food that I'd happily pay $120 for a poorly cooked hamburger. In fact, I'll eat the burger, see it as a good deal, and pay the extra $80 for a side of fries. When it comes to exercising financial self-control over my appetite, all bets are off.Today was hot--another record breaking day of southern heat. It was so hot that Bad Influence passed out in the middle of the trail. He's fine now, but we opted to wait out the heat of the day at Moreland Gap Shelter. We night hiked into Kincora. Bad Influence, Lala, and I all had our headphones tuned into a classic rock station and roared down the hill listening to the Stones, Cars, and Led Zepplin. Super rockabilly hike...one of the better ones on the trail. We're a day away from a full moon, and as we walked along the ridge, we saw the sun setting on one side, while the moon rose on the other.
Date: 2007-05-02
From: Kincora Hostel

To: US 321
Miles today: 8.9

We lost a little trail cred today, but boy-oh-boy was it worth it. We slacked a 9 mile section southbound between Route 321 and Kincora. It felt utterly bizarre to chug through the woods in the wrong direction with a super small day pack. It felt like a zero except we actually got half a day's walk under our belts.Kincora is a relaxed place to be--- the spaceous porch has everything to do with it. The showers and laundry are a big help since all of our clothing is streaked with salt stains. Forrest has been shaking the salt out of his hat and into his dinner for flavoring this past week. Bad Influence had bizarre stains that made him look like a victim of lactation, and all of the hikers sport a signature pack stain.Bob Peoples and his wife know how to do Southern hospitality right. The hostel is run on the honors system, and everyone pitched in to make the place cozy and home-like.
Date: 2007-05-03
From: US 321

To: Iron Mountain Shelter
Miles today: 15.4
Weather: light rain

There are no privies in the entire state of Tennessee. As a female hiker, this is a moderately horrifying prospect. I estimate that I walk an extra 1 to 2 miles per day in search of private places to pee. For me, the privy stands out like a beacon in the night since there's no foilage to hide behind this time of year. Of course, there are times when the privy is less than private as with Overmountain Shelter,where the privy has no door, no roof, minimal walls that barely cover one's behind, and I had a gaggle of teenage boys staring intently at me. Needless to say, I couldn't follow through and wandered down the hill to a stand of pines. But, unfortunately, a group of hikers were getting high there. So, I walked to the road... to find weekend hikers taking a stroll. Then I cut up to the blue blaze only to find more high school kids. Argh!! It took me over 30 minutes to find a place to do my business. The moral of the story? There are no bad privies, just bad hiker crowds. Which sort of brings me full circle to the current presence of both large hiker crowds and a definite lack of privies.We had some meteorlogical excitement today. We were caught out in a lightning storm near one of the more exposed ridges on Iron Mountain. Forrest and I were watching the storm and were hoping and thinking that it would miss us. We counted down the distance between the lightning flash and the thunder clap--one Mississippi, two Mississippi, etc. Before we knew it, the weather was on top of us, so we made a beeline down the side of the ridge to a thicket of Rhododendron. In hindsight, I wished that I had run down the ridge and set up my tarp as soon as I heard the thunder. We had some fairly close strikes and waited it out with Lala and Spaceman. Then we went on the wet slog to Iron Mountain Shelter which was full of dry hikers who were playing cards. The place was packed, so I'm tied up between trees, happy that I bought a larger tarp for my hammock.The weather's supposed to be poor the next couple of days, and we're thinking about making the 25+ mile push into Damascus by tomorrow night. A dry bed sounds good in theory, but the walk may be a little beastly. The longest I've ever hiked in a day was 24 miles during a section hike last year, and it wasn't so bad though. I'll play it by ear (which means I'll see how dry I stay tonight and how difficult it is to wake in the morning!).
Date: 2007-05-04
From: Iron Mountain Shelter

To: Damascus
Miles today: 25.9
Weather: light rain

It was up in the air as to whether or not we'd make the distance into Damascus, but with nothing but pure optimism working for us, we set off early in the morning. The mountains were totally shrowded in fog and the valleys looked like pools full of steaming milk. It was one of those days when the mileage ticks by, and the trail flows under your feet. I felt like a horse or a marathon runner or a perpetual motion machine with my pack squeaking and poles clicking. I had reached Wingfoot's fable state of "hiking machine". Okay...that's an exaggeration of sorts. But, I did feel darn good out there. The last few miles were slap-happy and sleepy, but man, it as a good and full day.The only pedestrians in Damascus were us thru hikers. Funny! Once again, we've taken over town, filling the restaurants, bars, and lodgings. Bad Influence, Spaceman, Lala, Forrest, and I had dinner and drinks at Dot's, a small smokey bar that looks like the ad exec from Budweiser threw up all over it. (read: themes of NASCAR, women with ample bosoms, and of course, lots of perspiring bottles of ice cold Bud) Ah, town....
Date: 2007-05-05
From: Damascus

To: Damascus
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: light rain

"I don't approve of tradition--it flies in the face of Hike Your Own Hike."-LalaToday is Derby day. Kentucky Derby, that is. For those of you out there who love thoroughbred racing, this hallowed day is akin to Christmas or Independence Day. It's a good day to sit on the couch and drink beer, pick slow horses, and have people over to visit your B&B room for some friendly wagering. I love Derby day, and I really love a zero that falls on Derby Day. Bad Influence and I are both "horsey" people (I owned 2 thoroughbreds and B.I.'s wife is a professional horse trainer) and ESPN's Derby programming is the equivalent of horse porn for us.We kicked off our dueling zeros Tour de Damascus with a trip to the Dairy King (the lesser known relation of Dairy Queen, perhaps?). Dairy King was packed full of hungry hikers, and Denny the dog was tethered out front. The one waitress/short order cook was staring at the Georgian boys and had a "Get 'er Done" hat on while Outkast (on vinyl) played in the background. Hiker boys were hootin' and hollerin' and plates full of eggs were passed overhead. It got pretty warm in the restaurant, and we tried to prop the front door open only to be told that the door has to stay closed because they didn't want Cowboys (the rival breakfast place across the street) to see what went on inside. Evidentally, this is a town full of secrets and jealous rivalries. Case in point, we tried to move over to a cheaper B&B the second night here, but the owner denied us saying that she didn't want to create bad blood by underselling her neighbor. Admirable idealistic small town goodness here...a shame I ended up paying a lot of money as a result! But, Damascus is a good place and I'm more than willing to pay an extra $15 to experience town people with honesty and integrity.
Date: 2007-05-07
From: Damascus

To: Lost Mountain Shelter
Miles today: 15.8
Weather: clear sky

They say that Virginia is for lovers. If this is referring to lovers of town food, privies, and good blue blazes, then that saying is absolutely true. So far, this is the BEST state yet. Does that assessment have anything to do with the good times in Damascus or the reappearence of switchbacks on the trail? Absolutely! General Tso was so happy to see a privy that he ran up to it and embraced it. It takes very little to make us happy out here. Throw a plywood shack over a hole in the ground or create a switchback and - Shazaam!--we're pleased as punch with the state of things.The key word for today was leisure. We checked out of the B&B (that we affectionately referred to as the B & BYOB since it didn't include breakfast) at 11:00 a.m. From there, we headed to the Dairy King for lunch, then to the library to check our email. Then to get ice cream. Then we swung past "the place" to say hello to Cheeks and Step Small. A couple hours later, we finally hopped on the Virginia Creeper Trail out of town.If I may pause here to say a word about the Creeper Trail: This is the best blue blaze on the A.T. and has been recommended by many thru hikers. It's grade barely goes over 2 degrees, it's wide and perfectly groomed, and is flanked by a beautiful creek and a smattering of small eating establishments. It's the perfect way to reintroduce a town-fattened hiker back into the wilds of Southern Appalachia. I was able to walk 20 yards off the trail to buy a chili cheese dog, BBQ sandwich, and 2 servings of tater tots. (they serve tots everywhere here--it's heaven)Bad Influence, Lala, and I were sitting at the Creeper Trail Cafe feeling pretty smug about our clever slothfulness when Queso, Denny the dog, the General, and the Texans rolled in. They had pulled off the ultimate combination: a slack pack of a blue blaze trail. It was so brilliant in it's design, so breathtakingly lazy -- it blew me away! I can learn things from these guys. I think the only thing that could top that would be renting a bike and riding the blue blaze back into Damascus. I sort of wish I had done it.If you couldn't already tell, I see a lot of beauty in resourcefulness and creativity. I hand out style points to hikers who have the most fun out here. And today, the blue blazing slackpacking Texans took the prize. Of course, we came in at a close second.
Date: 2007-05-08
From: Lost Mountain Shelter

To: Old Orchard Shelter
Miles today: 23.2
Weather: clear sky

After I spent a month sailing the St. Lawrence Seaway and Bay, I'd often wake up in my apartment late at night to check on sails that weren't there. If the weather was poor, I'd instinctively roll out of bed to reel the main or check on the crew. It'd take me a few minutes to figure out that I wasn't on the boat anymore, and that it didn't matter what the weather was up to. I'm getting back into the mode though, where I'm tuned into the weather. Last night, I had a vivid dream about a rain storm. Without thinking, I slipped out of my hammock and pulled my tarp low and snug -- into "battle mode". It was only when I was halfway through these adjustments that I looked up and woke up and saw a sky full of dazzling stars. There wasn't a cloud in sight and I felt like a sleep walking fool.Today brought ponies -- and tons of them. Cute, frisky, shaggy ponies. I'm a sucker for their tiny hooves and wild manes, and a heard of them managed to scam some granola bars off of me. The Grayson Highlands is probably one of the most beautiful areas that we've hiked through so far. I'd love to come back and spend a week or two hiking here, and of course, spend some more quality time with the ponies.We did some more blue blazing today and took the original A.T. across the Highlands. Having a map is dangerous because of all of the options it presents us with. We're probably close to bushwaking our way through the hills using a compass and machete.Tonight, Spaceman, Forrest, Lala, Bad Influence, Moon Goat (who's celebrating his 24th birthday today), Otto the dog, and I are the only thru hikers camping here. There are also 2 section hikers and 2 couples on a weeklong trip. It's pleasantly uncrowded for the first time in quite a while. I'm enjoying the quiet and the space at the picnic table. I'm beginning to wonder if I have developed some sort of aversion to crowds in the past few hundred miles.
Date: 2007-05-09
From: Old Orchard Shelter

To: Timpi Shelter
Miles today: 14.1
Weather: broken clouds

The bearbag. Who knows why we hang them -- it's not as though we've seen a bear in the past 500 miles. But we do, and it's and exercise in mild humiliation for me. I hate the phrase "throws like a girl". It's a bit dated and sexist, and it doesn't even apply to me since I can't even throw like someone with opposable thumbs. At least girls have thumbs. No, I throw like someone with hooves rather than hands. This is why I'm a hiker rather than a player in the NBA -- there's less throwing and the need for eye-hand coordination is minimal.A short lesson on bear bagging for the folks at home: A bear bag is a waterproof bag hung from a tree branch (preferrably 10 feet from the ground and 10 feet from the trunk of the tree -- though I have yet to encounter a tree that allows for this ideal configuration). The bag keeps one's "smellables", that is our food, toothpaste, trash, etc. safe from ravenous bears while we sleep like smelly angels in our tents. Bear bagging really is an art form, and there are a number of different methods -- all equally difficult if throwing isn't your forte. To get the line for the bear bag into the tree, you need to have a fairly decent throwing arm, good aim, and a little bit of luck. I possess none of the above.This brings me to my nightly exercise in shame which involves me attempting to heave a bear bag line tied to a stone over an impossibly high tree branch. For some reason, the ideal bear bagging trees are placed in view of the shelter/tent area, so there's always an audience for my line tossing shennanigans. Last night, I provided the entertainment for weekend hikers as they sat around their fire. Weekend hikers, for goodness sake! They shouldn't even know what a bear bag is. But, of course, these ones did -- their lines smoothly went up in seconds, I'm sure.Bear bagging is like some slow painful dance for me. I usually take my good old time finding "the perfect tree" (and old rotting stump close to the ground that any bear with sense could push over) to delay the inevitable act of throwing the line. Then, I circle the tree like an advisary. Finally the throwing of the line -- it comes on with squinted eyes, a series of grunts. The line and stone are wildly over the tree canopy and nervous hikers move under the safety of the shelter roof. Sometimes, I swear a good bit. Other times, I'm silent with concentration and shame.
Date: 2007-05-10
From: Timpi Shelter

To: Chatfield Shelter
Miles today: 17.7
Weather: clear sky

There's a hiker on the trail who has a "How's my Hiking? Call ..." sign on the back of his pack. It's pretty clever actually. People can call the phone number on the sign and leave a message for him. Unfortunately, this hiker seems to feel that we're all sporting a "How's My Hiking?" sign. He rolled into Timpi last night and loudly berated us for blue blazing on the Virginia Creeper Trail. He told us that he left our names in the registers, alerting the other hikers to the fact that we blue blazed. Huh?!? A lot of the people we know did the same think and took the Creeper out of Damascus. I totally thought he was joking around giving us beef about our hike. I didn't even realize that he was actually berating us until Bad Influence, who's miffed by the situation, told me today. I'm still sort of hoping that he was joking around with us. I can't imagine him being so judgemental of how people hike. C'mon dude, hike your own hike and live your own life!We hiked our hike in style today, waking up early and heading to Partnership Shelter. This shelter is, hands down, the best shelter we've seen yet. It has two floors (the one is an enclosed loft), a hot water shower, sink, and flush toilets and a cola vending machine close by. Awesome! The Mt. Rogers visitors center is right up the trail a couple hundred yards, and hikers can order pizza here. We rolled in around noon and discovered that there's no pizza delivery until 4:30 p.m., so we got a quick hitch into Marion for AYCE at Pizza Hut. We descended on their buffet like a firestorm. They never knew what hit them! When we were done eating, we hitched back to Partnership where a man from the trail maintaining club randomly strolled in and asked us if we'd like some cold beer. Of Course!We finished our day by hiking the final seven miles to Chatfield Memorial Shelter. Miracles of miracles...it was empty, and we had the place to ourselves. We broke out the port that Forrest bought in Marion. On the way down the mountain, we saw and amazingly beautiful scene--like something out of a religious calendar. It made the day.Lala talked to his landlord today. She told him that his fish was doing well, and that she'd been feeding it. Thing is, Lala forgot that he even owned the fish... I guess that means we've been on the trail a good while.Today, we hiked almost 18 miles, but it felt like a nero. The mid-day trip to town, loafing at Partnership, taking our good old time made the day so laid back. Such a good day.....