morvasaaty/AppalachianTrail-LD-Hikers-Blogs-and-Weather-20-years huggingface dataset:
Date: 2002-10-20
To: Introduction - Don't Fence Me In
Miles today: 0.0

Don't Fence Me In: An IntroductionSo far, the best part of planning to hike the Appalachian Trail (AT) in 2003 was quitting my job. It was a fine job, a fine career, but I am glad to get a temporary reprieve from the world of beige. I've given up my beloved beachfront apartment in Laguna Beach, CA, sold my furniture, gave away my plants, and hoisted various worthless but sentimental items upon family members to store for me (thanks parents!). As I was getting the last things out of my apartment and packing up my truck the other day, I couldn't help but notice that someone ran over a skunk right in front of my apartment. Much like a horse's head found in the bed, this seemed to me a sign (from God, skunks, and the city of Laguna Beach) that I made the right decision to leave. I'm keeping this journal to stay in touch with friends and family without incurring a massive phone bill and also to document that I did something worthwhile during this year of not producing income. For those of you not familiar with the Trail, it is a National Scenic Trail (part of the National Park Service) that runs approximately 2,168 miles from northern Georgia to Maine along the Appalachian mountain range. I plan to hike the AT from South to North, Georgia to Maine, beginning in late February. This website, www.trailjournals.com, is run by two guys named Leif and Zipdrive, and it is just chockful of journals written by people hiking all sorts of different trails. Hopefully, I'll get to meet some of the AT journal writers on my trip.   Many thanks to my friends and family who have been supportive of this crazy notion of mine. Thanks also to Chuck Ward (2001 thru-hiker) and Kathryn Lee (Skate) (2002 thru-hiker) for their advice and inspiration. My kicky work colleagues got me a really fancy watch/altimeter/compass/barometer/heartrate monitor as a going away present. I'm addicted to it. Go ahead, ask me the elevation. I think I'll get a T-shirt made. Elevation is an important part of hiking because it gives the brain some math problems to do during the 10 to 12 hours a day of placing one foot in front of the other and also provides numbers to support the sense of achievement after a long day of hiking. Of course, I believe that if it felt like a 4000 foot climb, then it was a 4000 foot climb, even if the altimeter only says 1000 feet. Many people, well, everyone, has asked me why I am doing this. I've decided that it is okay if my reasons are not yet crystal clear in my mind, or if my reasons change as time passes. I read a book called "Long Distance" by Bill McKibbon, in which he documented his year off from writing to train as a competitive cross country skier. His goal for the year was not to win any races, but to gain an intuitive sense of his body and how it works, and to give a supreme and complete effort. I like that. I'd love to hear from you. Feel free to sign my guestbook or email me at dianapriceisright@yahoo.com.
Date: 2002-10-21
To: Preparation
Miles today: 0.0

PreparationI'm fairly new to hiking, and just plain new to backpacking. (I've learned not to use the two terms interchangeably. Apparently, backpacking means you stay out overnight, hiking means you don't, even if you carry a backpack.)My preparation philosophy is to reduce the potential for disaster and increase the potential for enjoyment. In that light, I¢ve been gathering information and getting some miles on my feet. Early this spring, I took a class through the Sierra Club of Orange County CA called the Wilderness Travel Course. Great class - highly recommend it. We learned about navigation, different types of gear, and snow travel. It was great experience to hike with veterans and with a large group of people. I¢m generally a solo hiker, so it was good practice for me to interact with so many people. Also, we could ask question after question, and the instructors weren¢t allowed to get annoyed in their official capacity as instructors. (Just kidding ¢ they were very gracious and enthusiastic). Even better, I met Chuck Ward, veteran AT thru-hiker, in the class when he did a presentation for us on lightweight backpacking. I took Chuck to dinner in Newport Beach, CA a couple of weeks ago and got to look at his pictures and hear all about his journey. What a great person. We spent a couple of hours reviewing my gear list. I¢m sure that that one dinner saved me months of research.I also took the 2 day Wilderness First Aid class through the Wilderness Medicine Institute (WMI) and the National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS). I don¢t think I¢ll be saving many lives on the AT, but now I know how to make a splint and wrap my ankle when, and I mean when, I sprain it. In June, I spent a few days in Dahlonega, GA and hiked up the Springer Mountain Approach Trail to the AT trailhead and back down to get a feel for the area. I wasn't sore the next day, but I learned that my boots were too small - blisters on the ends of my toes. Ow. The best part of my training is the roadtrip. This weekend I began a two month car-camping roadtrip, during which I¢ll be visiting various and sundry national and state parks between Southern California and Washington, DC, to get acquainted with my gear and get some hiking miles in. I'm going to try to do about 400 miles of training before I start the thru-hike and break in a couple pairs of boots/sneakers.
Date: 2002-10-23
To: Bears and Hillbillies
Miles today: 0.0

Bears and HillbilliesAT Trip PlanningI began the arduous process of actual AT trip planning by getting out all of those maps and numbering them, south to north, as suggested by Chuck Ward. It took several hours, but it gave me a chance to think about the AT in its entirety and should save me some time in the long run. It will be difficult to schedule maildrops efficiently until I know how far I can comfortably hike per day on average, with plenty of time for picture taking, naps, and stopping to say ¢well, would you look at that¢ to myself. Maildrops/town visits will also depend upon how many days I really want to go without a shower. From what I hear, once you go a few days, it just doesn¢t matter anymore. Well, it doesn¢t matter to the unwashed. Others might take issue. However, if you have enough handiwipes, you can pass for washed - the secret is style-free hair that goes into a ponytail and a great hat. Dangers on the ATHillbilliesWe¢ve all seen Deliverance and heard the horror stories. To combat this danger, I plan to use the relation factor. As a child of the South (Tennessee, of course) with 32 first cousins and an exponential number of second and third cousins, there is a good chance that I am however distantly related to said hillbillies or know somebody who knows their Mammas. I do plan to be extremely cautious, though. BearsI think I¢ll take pepper spray. If nothing else, I understand that it is flammable, so it¢s good for starting emergency fires. I¢m sure that if a bear gets close enough for me to use it, I will have long since soiled myself and dropped the pepper spray in the dirt.
Date: 2002-10-24
To: Chatting for Dollars - Grants, New Mexico
Miles today: 0.0

Chatting for Dollars - Grants, New Mexico Thursday, October 24thI arrived in New Mexico on Thursday afternoon. I had planned to stay at Bluewater State Park, which is touted as one of the best campsites in New Mexico. It looked great when I pulled in, but the ranger said the showers were being renovated, and I was the only patron there aside from about a dozen individuals dressed in orange jumpsuits doing maintenance. I have nothing against the incarcerated, but a girl has to be careful when traveling alone, and I really wanted a shower, so I moved on. Karma! I found a Day¢s Inn in Grants, New Mexico for $30 with a free continental breakfast. Because I was in a friendly mood and chatted up the staff, the $30 also included use of the laundry facilities, pool, and much better continental breakfast at the Holiday Inn next door.
Date: 2002-10-25
To: The Hiker that Got Away - Mt. Taylor, New Mexico
Miles today: 0.0

The Hiker That Got AwayMt. TaylorGrants, New MexicoFriday, October 25th4 miles1000' elevation gainSo I¢m very cool about coyotes now, what with the howling concert and all. On Friday, I headed up to Mt. Taylor, one of the 4 sacred mountains of the Navajo, for a 16-mile hike going from 8000¢ to 12,000¢. I was ready for this. I scouted out the route on Thursday, which was easy since the whole trail was on forest service roads. I was on the trail by 6:30am and having a great time taking pictures and putzing up the hill. About 2 miles into the hike, I looked to my left, and there, about 30 yards from me, was a freakin¢ coyote trotting down a side trail in the opposite direction. I was more shocked than scared. I didn¢t take a picture because I didn¢t want to be one of those people eaten by a coyote while trying to photograph it. The coyote went on its way without even looking at me. I waited a few minutes, then walked back around the bend, and there was the coyote coming up the road behind me, about a quarter of a mile away. Aack! I scurried away and made a high-pitched noise. I peeked around again and saw another coyote coming up the road. Two coyotes make a pack! I figured that I certainly could not out run a coyote pack, so I decided to face my destiny and the coyotes. I headed towards them, holding up my hat and walking stick, trying to look very large, and singing ¢Elvira¢ by the Oak Ridge Boys. (I thought the ¢oom ba pa, oom ba pa¢ bit would be intimidating without being aggressive.) The coyotes had left the road by then (I¢m sure not because of me but following some original plan), and I Elvira¢d my way all the way back to my truck. I only got in 4 miles. I marched into the ranger station and announced that I had seen a predator on their mountain. The ranger lady was very excited until she realized it was just a coyote. She said, ¢Honey, they only eat people if they are really hungry or rabid, and there are plenty of jackrabbits and wild turkeys up there right now to keep them fed¢. Then she told me how coyotes come right up to you on the local golf course looking for handouts. Yet another death-defying feat goes unacknowledged. I headed for Santa Fe, traumatized, elated, and ready for a break.
Date: 2002-10-27
To: Folk Art by the Truckload - Santa Fe
Miles today: 0.0

Santa FeFriday October 25th through Sunday October 27thNo hikingI spent a relaxing weekend in Santa Fe with Debs, one of my former roommates in San Francisco. We had a lovely dinner with her friends, Judy and Karen, on Friday night. They are all cytogeneticists. I don¢t know if you¢ve ever spent an evening with cytogeneticists, but I can tell you that I did not win when we played ¢name that syndrome¢. They are also experienced hikers and howled with laughter, and I mean howled, at my coyote stories. They told me that you could practically walk right up to a coyote and scratch it behind the ears. Later they admitted that they had never actually encountered one alone in the wild, so they had to give me some props. (My raising is really coming out on this trip. In my head, that last sentence was ¢They admitted they ain¢t never come acrosst one afore in the wild¢.)On Saturday, we went to a fabulous store called Jackalope. This store has everything you never needed. Their slogan is ¢Folk Art by the Truckload¢. The merchandise ranges from southwestern d©cor to fine cloth from India to live donkeys and every kind of rooster bred in captivity. That evening, during a 20-minute period, Santa Fe got a 1/2 inch of hail. I¢ve never seen such a thing. On Sunday, I topped off the weekend by lounging around watching spaghetti westerns and catching up on paperwork. I wanted to hike the Pecos Wilderness on Monday, but there was over a foot of snow up there, so no deal.
Date: 2002-10-28
To: Yakkety Yak - Don't Come Back - Carlsbad Caverns
Miles today: 0.0

Carlsbad CavernsMonday 10/283 milesNo elevation gainYakkety Yak, Don¢t Come BackI left Santa Fe at the crack of dawn and headed down a lonely highway south through New Mexico towards Carlsbad Caverns. I was the only car for miles at a time. New Mexico is a vastly under populated state. Once the fog lifted, I could see the Cibola and Lincoln Mountains to the west with banks of clouds rolling over the horizon. I stopped to stretch my legs in Encino and talked horses for a few minutes with a local rancher. People really do wear Wrangler jeans ... here. In the town of Carlsbad, I stopped in at the National Forest Office before heading to the Caverns and bought topo maps for Carlsbad Caverns and the Guadalupe Mountains. My tentative plan was to spend the following day hiking near the Caverns, then two days in the Guadalupe Mountains. Once at Carlsbad Caverns, I learned that the bats had already migrated south for the winter. Too bad, I¢m sure millions of bats flying out of a cave at sunset is quite a sight. I hear that the evening flight can go on for hours. I decided to walk down into the cave from the Natural Entrance, equipped with an audio tour. I love an audio tour. They keep people moving at a reasonable pace and cut down on annoying chitchat. But these were handheld devices that you put up to your ear when you come to designated spots along the pathway. No headphones to discourage extraneous conversation. This proved fatal to my enjoyment of the trip. Four of us entered the cave within about 5 minutes of each other. No sign of anyone else. The gentleman behind me and I were going for a meditative cave experience. It is not often that you get to visit such a popular, beautiful place and have it practically to yourself. Alas, the couple in front of us was having none of that. They found this to be a good time to fill up every nook and cranny of the cave with the sound of their voices. They read signs out loud to each other. One would listen to the audio device and tell the other what was said. Meditation man and I kept taking turns sitting on benches, waiting for the noisemakers to move on, but the Yakkety-Yaks were taking a very long time, and their voices carried all over the cave. After making it to the underground lunchroom, I stopped to plan out my next few hiking days and give the Yaks a chance to get ahead of me. Of course, they stopped for lunch, too, and spoke loudly of their plans to take the same tour I was signed up for later that afternoon. That did it. I bagged the tour and went back to the world of natural light.
Date: 2002-10-28
To: The Phone Ranger - Carlsbad Caverns
Miles today: 0.0

Carlsbad CavernsMonday 10/28The Phone RangerI stopped at the information desk in the Carlsbad Cavern¢s visitor¢s center to get a backcountry permit. Apparently, the ¢information¢ sign was part of some sort of performance art piece showing how ¢information¢ is a subjective term. I felt as if I was in the middle of a Laughing Squid production in San Francisco. It has now dawned on me that my expectations are far too high for people who work at national parks. Not everyone who works there is a park ranger. They are not all people who studied Forestry or Ecology in undergrad and did their master¢s thesis on the impact of humans on the titmouse. Most of them seem to be just regular people who happen to live in the area and needed a job. Granted, these people are much nicer than we have a right to expect, considering their probably dismal salaries and constant contact with tourists. However, you cannot expect them to know more than you would learn from a pamphlet about the backcountry or even day hiking trails. So, I found myself asking a pleasant young woman disguised as a park ranger for a backcountry permit. She told me that she had never been on any of the above ground trails and didn't know anything about permits, so she called another ranger to find out. She reported that, according to the Phone Ranger, the ground was at saturation point. I asked her what that meant and what impact that had on my obtaining a permit. She did not know. She called the Phone Ranger again. The Phone Ranger must have been very shy and/or horribly disfigured because he refused to talk to me directly, either on the phone or in person. He just kept throwing out phrases such as "danger of rockslide¢, ¢campsite may be washed away¢, and ¢backcountry still open¢ through his interpreter. I decided that these were not the people that I wanted to rescue me if something unfortunate happened in the backcountry, so I headed south to Texas and the Guadalupe Mountains.On the road again.
Date: 2002-10-29
To: I Messed with Texas
Miles today: 0.0

I Messed with TexasTuesday, October 29thLet me start with the things I like about Texas: people and hats. Every person I met, except the girl working the counter at the Dairy Queen in Van Horn (and who could really blame her), was friendly and courteous. It was nice to be back in a land where people wave when they pass each other on a 2-lane highway. And the hats are just great. I don¢t know if Texas is known as the road kill state, but it could be. Not a badge of honor, surely, but a badge nonetheless. I counted 42 kills in a 200 miles stretch of I-10. I was only responsible for one of those. I drove until I couldn¢t drive anymore and finally landed at a motel in Sonora, a couple of hours from Austin. This motel offered a $10 discount if you paid in cash, but I¢m on a sabbatical, so tax fraud is the last thing on my mind. The motel lobby came complete with a cat named Earl, a toddler named Trevor, a teenage mother, and violent music videos on the TV. Welcome to Texas.
Date: 2002-10-31
To: Please Come to Austin
Miles today: 0.0

Please Come to AustinEnchanted Rock/AustinWednesday, October 30th and Thursday, October 31st 500¢ elevation gain7 milesWednesday morning, I petted Earl and Trevor and took a pleasant drive to Enchanted Rock near Austin. It was reminiscent of parts of Yosemite, with plants growing through rock crevasses and pools of water and vegetation at the top of the rock. I met a nice Harley rider who was up there bird watching. Other than the teacher herding his group of school children via megaphone, it was a charming experience. Thanks to the 2003 AT hiker who wrote about this place in his/her journal. I can¢t remember which hiker. In Austin, I went out Wednesday night to commune with the locals. I met Mike, who works for the Texas disaster relief program. The floods have kept him busy this year. Interestingly, the state of Texas will provide assistance to a resident whose home has been destroyed by flood to the tune of $10,000, but only once. After the first flood, they have to get flood insurance. I also met a little fella from Louisiana named Richard. He told me that he hated California but was unable to put his finger on exactly why or which part. I was OK with that. On Thursday morning, I got up early and ran 6 miles around Towne Lake. This is a great urban park, but the runners were all very intense and not at all chatty. I drove to the university, did some laundry, ate some real Texas BBQ and collard greens dripping in hog fat, then headed towards Houston.
Date: 2002-11-01
To: Sadie Joe and the Little Britches Rodeo - Houston
Miles today: 0.0

Sadie Joe and the Little Britches RodeoHoustonThursday, October 31st through Friday, November 1st This has become a trip of luxury. I managed to sprain my ankle a bit on the run in Austin, so I¢m skipping the hiking for a few days. I drove into Houston, went out to look at Halloween costumes for a bit, then holed up in the motel. Friday morning, I planned to walk around one of the city parks and visit the downtown library. After driving around for 45 minutes to no avail, cursing the makers of my Houston map and the city planners, I decided to find the interstate and just leave town. Of course, as soon as I quit looking for it, I drove right by the library, turned a corner to find parking, and was jettisoned halfway across town on a parkway by a great park that was not on my map. It was time to get out of Houston and head to New Orleans. On the road again.
Date: 2002-11-03
To: Becky's Royal Grounds - New Orleans
Miles today: 0.0

New OrleansFriday, November 1st through Sunday November 3rd I arrived in New Orleans on Friday night. I usually like to get to a new city before dark and before rush hour traffic. I missed it on both counts today. I tried to get a room at a couple of B&Bs, but no luck. I headed straight to a bar recommended to me for its live music, asked the owner about places to stay, and she had a guest house right next door. Sure, it vibrated from the music until 2:00am every night, but it was cheap. I met two hard-drinking girls, Sharon and Carrie, from hard-drinking Chicago, in the honky-tonk downstairs. I lived in Chicago a few years ago, and we knew some of the same people (Lee, this means you). One girl was nice, and the other started out nice, then became rather insulting as beer after beer disappeared down her gullet. She told me that I would meet more people if I wasn¢t sitting in a bar drinking soda and writing in my journal like a nerd. She was probably right, but that smarted a bit. On Saturday, I found a great caf© in the French Quarter; I believe it was Royal Grounds. This caf© had good coffee, Internet access, good food, tourists, and an attractive staff. I spent a lot of time there over the next two days. Becky the proprietor was a handsome woman with cigarette hanging out of her mouth at all times. She called everybody ¢baby¢ and said ¢ya¢ll¢ at least once in every sentence. I watched her for hours. I took the Cemetary/VooDoo Tour, which conveniently started at the Royal Grounds caf©. The cemetary bit was great, but I¢m still trying to make sense of the words of Priestess Miriam at the Voodoo Temple. Her message involved the secrets of the order, airbags, and Sherlock Holmes' hat. If I ever figure it out, I¢ll let you know. I noticed an interesting bookstore with somewhat steamy windows on Some-French-Name Street, but it was closed every time I passed by on Saturday. Finally on Sunday, the bookstore was open and I went in. The lack of temperature control and unpredictable hours had taken their toll. The books were sticky from humidity and lack of purchase. The proprietor leered at me in a "what do YOU want?" sort of way and refused to engage in friendly conversation, so I moved on. Atlanta bound.
Date: 2002-11-04
To: Hank Williams and the Sierra Club - Montgomery, AL
Miles today: 0.0

Montgomery AlabamaMonday November 4thHank Williams and the Sierra ClubI headed out of New Orleans and drove and drove and drove, through Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama towards Atlanta on Sunday afternoon. I stopped in Montgomery, the capital of Alabama, for the night. As a matter of course, I flipped on the TV in the motel room. Traveling right before election time is really a bad idea. I learned via one political ad that the Sierra Club, which apparently had endorsed some state candidate, is a known pro-choice organization. I have a hard time believing that the Sierra Club would take a position in the abortion discussion, but welcome to Alabama and modern day American politics. Makes a body want to go hide in the woods for a few months. Monday morning, I stopped by the Hank Williams Museum to pay homage and was treated to a long video of some excellent musicians covering Hank songs, including Chet Atkins and Minnie Pearl. Yeah, I watched it twice. Apparently, Hank learned guitar from an African-American blues street musician named Tee-Tot, whom he met while selling peanuts on the street, and had his first big hit from an old song he learned from Tee-Tot called ¢Lovesick Blues¢. Hank died at the age of 29. I felt a bit ordinary for not having achieved some level of greatness in life by 29, but grateful for not drinking myself to death. Atlanta bound.