morvasaaty/AppalachianTrail-LD-Hikers-Blogs-and-Weather-20-years huggingface dataset:
Date: 2010-05-05
From: The Pavilion (Port Clinton, PA)

To: Allentown Hiking Club Shelter
Miles today: 22.6
Weather: clear sky

In the morning my feet were really feeling the 42 miles from the day (night) before. My legs, too. We took a late start and walked over to 3 C's Diner for some pancakes and eggs. By 11:30 we left Port Clinton for Allentown, only 23 miles away.I napped at the first shelter and everyone passed me (as usual). I wasn't concerned by being behind, and lounged at the shelter for over an hour. The rest of the day was nice and kind of boring. You know, I'm kinda getting used to these long boring days in the sunlight. The gnats were obnoxious and I did get immensely bored with myself, but overall it wasn't so bad. I didn't even listen to the iPod much. I saw a couple day-hikers but not many people. The terrain was mild. For the last 2 hours I listened to the Lewis & Clark audiobook (Undaunted Courage), but at nightfall I cut it off. For 30 minutes I walked over sharp stones in near-darkness, impressed with my own depth-perception in dim light. When I saw the shelter I almost giggled with joy. I joked with the boys and ate some jerky before falling asleep. I woke up and ate some more nibbles.
Date: 2010-05-06
From: Allentown Hiking Club Shelter

To: The Jailhouse Hostel (Palmerton, PA)
Miles today: 18.0

Not a bad day (it's funny how negativity is the standard...that is, a day is expected to be bad and it's worth noting if it's not). I hiked alone until I got tired of hiking alone, then waited for the others to catch up. For the rest of the day we all hiked together, talking and laughing and stopping at a shelter for lunch. On the way down to Palmerton, Boomerang fell hard with his 45 lbs. pack and busted his knee, so I gave him 6 ibuprofen and carried his pack the rest of the 8 miles into town. I parted wit the boys and hitched to the Fine Lodge in Slatington to grab a mail-drop. We'd meet in Palmerton that evening. It was 4:00. My ride was a boisterous dad with black sunglasses and a black sleeveless t-shirt driving a big shiny black SUV. He had two sons and was a big Steelers fan. The Fine Lodge was a strange place. Disheveled people milled about listlessly, and I wondered where they were headed in life. I waited about 45 minutes for the proprietor to give me a free ride to Palmerton, and ate all my Mom's brownies.I dropped my pack in the hostel (the basement of the Police Station) and walked out to find the boys. I questioned some old ladies about their whereabouts ("I think they passed by. No they didn't. Wait, they did!"), a waitress who gave me a dirty look, a weird guy walking around with his shirt off, and several mentally-retarded guys sitting on a park bench (they couldn't really communicate, but I talked to them like they weren't disabled at all. I think ignoring their disability is the greatest gift a stranger can give the disabled) It was a strange town. I found the boys at a Pizza place. A guy pestered us and interrupted our conversation with stupid questions about hiking, and I told him I carried a pistol at all times.That night I took a shower and slept alright. A flip-flopper named Biff was snoring terribly and keeping all of us awake (we were having a conversation about how bad it was as Biff snored on), so I woke him up and asked him to roll over. That did it and the rest of the night was soundless.
Date: 2010-05-07
From: The Jailhouse Hostel (Palmerton, PA)

To: Kirkridge Shelter
Miles today: 29.8
Weather: broken clouds

I had an early breakfast of a Farmer's Omelet at the diner before Duane the Pest Control Man shuttled us back to the trail head. The first ascent of the day as a near-vertical rock climb. Shocked my the ridiculous angle, Reckless paused to take a photo of me. We'd switched iPods because he wanted to hear the Into Thin Air audiobook. The next 8 miles traversed a mountainside leveled for zinc-mining many years before and still classified as a Superfund Site. It was strangely open and grassy and, in fact, prettier than the rest of PA. Several hours of fast and strong hiking brought us (Reckless, Boomerang, Muffin Mittens and I) to a grassy spot in the woods. I had a good conversation with Muffin Mittens about his 6 years of service in the U.S. Army. I took a nap and the group moved on. The naps multiplied as often do, and soon I was hours behind the group. I just didn't care. I made it to the shelter after a long and obnoxious night hike through some of the worst rocky sections we'd yet crossed. My feet were killing me.Oh yea! And tonight we caught up with Fahma and Klipspringer. More on that later, but for tonight I slept well.
Date: 2010-05-08
From: Kirkridge Shelter

To: Church of the Mountain Hostel (Delaware-Water Gap)
Miles today: 6.5
Weather: few clouds

Our "near-o" day. Late start, time alone at shelter, sunny walk down to town, Ben & Jerry's Pint, beer and pizza, pie and hotdog, homemade cookies, alot of old hikers, early bedtime
Date: 2010-05-09
From: Church of the Mountain Hostel (Delaware-Water Gap)

To: Brink Rd. Shelter
Miles today: 25.0
Weather: overcast clouds

Breakfast (2 eggs and 2 bacon between 2 slices of Rainsin bread smeared w/ honey), good quick day (I kept up and didn't nap until last 3 miles), MOuntain House w/ water boiled over fire, NO BEARS, 1st Day in NJ ain't bad
Date: 2010-05-10
From: Brink Rd. Shelter

To: The Mayor's House (Unionville, NY)
Miles today: 27.0

We awoke in the shelter shivering. It had been a cold night, and I was just warm enough to sleep. I didn't want to get out of my bag, but at last I unzipped and jumped to my feet. A quick pack-up and we hit the road to Unionville, some 27 miles away. The first several hours of hiking were pleasant. We stopped at a deli for a breakfast sandwich and coffee, then continued sleepily. Today we talked and joked happily, and the miles passed by quickly. For 2 hours I listened to Guns, Germs, and Steel on audiobook. Before I knew it, we were only 9 miles from Unionville, and Reckless did a commendable job keeping me awake. At one point, he saw I was dragging with sleepiness and screamed as loud as he could. The scream jerked me awake and I was fine for the rest of the day. I owe him one for that.At the road, the hostel owner picked us up. "If you call me sir one more time I'm gonna hit you," he told Reckless. He was a hilarious guy, hilarious not in a clever way but in a ridiculous way. "We're gonna bust your balls," he said. "You get one free beer and the rest are 50 cents. You must take a shower. Dinner'll be ready soon so get showered quickly." He did a great job of making us feel at home, and that, he said, was his mission: "You see that sign by the door? It says, 'When you leave this home, you are friends.' The last word should be 'brothers,'" he said. He believed strongly in the verse: I am my brother's keeper, and I deeply respected him for it. In return, "We think what you guys are doing is f***ing stupid, but we respect you for it," he said. "The Mayor beleives in starting what you finnish."the old guy cussing, visit to the grocery store, the video of britians got talent, finding out about kevinIt's 2:49 am, I'm dead tired, and the Mayor is getting us up at 6:30 tomorrow so I've got to cut this short. THanks for reading everyone. Until next entry.
Date: 2010-05-11
From: The Mayor's House (Unionville, NY)

To: Linden Motel pool house (Greenwood Lake, NY)
Miles today: 26.8

Old Bill, the miserable cursing caretaker at the Mayor's House ("You wanna buy a house? It comes with a dishwasher. His name's Bill," said Butch) woke us up at precisely 6:30 for a breakfast of sausage, eggs and hashbrowns. I drank several cups of strong black coffee and scarfed down the food. Several hours later, Butch was driving us to the trailhead. The morning passed nicely through cool forests and warm fields. Before noon we stopped at a rocky overlook for a 20-minute snack break. We marched on.As morning passed to afternoon, sleepiness came over me; still, I kept walking. By 4:00 I could barely walk out of weariness. Boomerang and Reckless tried in vain to keep me awake (we'd been hiking together all day), and I say with no exaggeration that it was the most tired I'd ever been. At last I collapsed on the trail for a 10-minute combat nap. The Georgia boys walked on. Within 30 minutes of awakening I caught up to cover the last 8 miles with them. The smooth blue of Greenwood Lake lay down in the valley, looking flat and pure against the patchy green-cottonball mountains. The lake was huge, perfect for sailing.Greenwood Village, situated on the lake's shore and .9 miles from the AT, was a nice town. Kids played backyard ball and on playgrounds, filling the evening with the sounds of summer. "I'm feelin' that summer vibe," I told the Georgia boys, "and I like it." A guy gave us a lift to the Chinese Buffet in town, and after eating (I didn't eat much) walked over to the Linden Motel. Anticipating bad weather that night, we had arranged to sleep in the Linden's poolhouse for free. I bought a Snickers bar and went to sleep with knife in hand.
Date: 2010-05-12
From: Linden Motel pool house (Greenwood Lake, NY)

To: Fingerboard Shelter
Miles today: 16.4
Weather: overcast clouds

An Indian man stood at the side of the poolhouse, looking in. I got up to shake his hand and explain our being there. Luckily, it was the same manager who'd OK'd it earlier. We walked over to the gas station and I got a honeybun for breakfast, then walked down to a diner for another breakfast. It was a small pastry shop owned by a spunky middle-aged woman. I watched hwe and her assistant, a teenage girl, joke and carry on behind the counter. I asked them questions about their life and they willingly answered. Customers entered, grabbed their breakfasts-to-go, and exited. One customer stayed to eat, and I got to talking to her. Lisa was a local pet-sitter. As a local, she was very knowledgeable about the area's history and (to my delight) geology. We talked about local attitudes, the Rainbow Coalition, and hitching trains. Boomerang entered and got breakfast next to me. When she left, Lisa picked up both of our $5.00 tabs. She saif "God Bless" and left. Rain fell and the air was cold, and there was a silent consensus between the Georgia boys and I: we would wait a while before hiking.Down at the library, I updated my journal and took a nap in a chair. I met Raury, a long-distance runner from Manhattan. He looked like your classic crazy black man bum and plague to the local library, but he spoke articulately like a Harvard scholar. He was big into long-distance running and had completed countless marathons. He offered to give us a ride anywhere we wanted. I took his phone number and walked to the pizza shop to meet the Georgia boys. The prettiest girl in the world was behind the counter. She smiled and asked me about the trip. I thought about her for the rest of the day. I called Raury and he took us to the trailhead. It was drizzling and cold.It was already 1:00, a late start out of Greenwood Lakes. We marched 16-some miles into a beautiful state park, scrambling incredible rock faces and passing sleepy lakes. The park was teeming with wildlife--huge woodpeckers darting about, bushy squirrels bounding to trees, muscular deer staring at us, songbirds singing, and a great owl flappig silently away.At the shelter, an ancient stone edifice with dual chimneys, we settled down for the night. Night fell and so did I into sleep.
Date: 2010-05-13
From: Fingerboard Shelter

To: Graymore Spriritual Center
Miles today: 21.0

Alot of highs today: Hiking in the morning through the state park (a meadowy open forest), hopping a 10-foot barbed-wire fence for water, seeing the zoo at Bear Mountain State Park, talking to the Sisters of Life nuns, getting a 101 lesson from a party of birdwatchers, crossing the Bear Mountain Bridge, drinking a Coors Light tallboy on the trail, talking in Spanish to an Ecuadorian store owner, and SEEING THE NEW YORK CITY SKYLINE! The sight of NYC was, by far, the most awe-inspiring thing I've yet seen. I almost lost my breath, like I'd just seen a miracle performed. I just couldn't beleive it: I simply cannot put into words the feelings I felt then.Lows? Getting lost was frusterating (I missed Bear Mountain and crossed several almost-as-high peaks to the east, then hit the 1777 Trail that followed back to the State Park), and that night a queer Southbounder in the shelter snored incessantly.
Date: 2010-05-14
From: Graymore Spriritual Center

To: Morgan Steward Shelter
Miles today: 28.0
Weather: few clouds

Highs: Hiking with Dave (or Boomerang) for a while, running into a Yale philosophy major with an upcoming fellowship at Cambridge, ENG, the rains cleared up by noon and the sun poured down to redeem the day, chomping into a pizza at the roadside deli, s'mores that night at the shelter (thanks to come guys from West Point).Lows: my feet got serious blisters (not bloody but very close), finding Kevin at the shelter (an awkward situation given his denial of some unproven yet highly-probable section-skipping), and laboring to catch up after napping always sucks.
Date: 2010-05-15
From: Morgan Steward Shelter

To: Bill's House (Ridgefield, CT)
Miles today: 22.0

Highs: meeting up with Uncle Bill at the day's end was the climax of the day; I enjoyed meeting a group of young Brooklyners who had taken the day off from stressful city life. Seeing those kids really reawoke a nagging desire I have to move to NYC for a short time...it's so magical! The SUNSHINE! brought up the temps and made the day ideal for hiking; I enjoyed trail-running along a gentler trail than the day before; that night, Bill treatd the Georgia boys and I to wings, a reuben, a beer, AND desert at the Corner Pub. Bill also showed us his masterpiece, a year-long garage/workshop/office/guest house he built from scratch.OH YEA!- I saw the biggest oak on the AT! It was a beautiful monster (see the pic I found on the internet...No, that's not me in the photo) Lows: none to speak of. Honestly, I felt great today. My pack without food and water (its most common state, as I'm carrying only 1-2 days of food these days) is 12 lbs. at most makes the going easy for my joints, muscles, and most of all feet. I skip up hills and run down the backsides. On the contrary, the Georgia boys were hurting as usual (their packs are significantly heavier than mine).A quick word on the spirit. Like I've said, the weather is dandy these days. The pain and misery has died down, yet so has the volume of the Lord's voice. I just don't hear God anymore like I used to, and I don't know whether to remedy the silence or embrace it for what it is. Maybe he's showed me what he wanted to show me - you know, demonstrated Truth - and now the ball is in MY court. Maybe I'm supposed to activate change. I don't know. But still, though I'm more faithful now thanks to the hardships of winter, I still long for those days. When I could really hear and feel him by my side.Thanks everyone for reading this journal and for all your support! I'm currently at Mile 1,448 (only 731 from Katahdin!) and still can't beleive I've made it this far. Leave a comment in my "Guest Book"...it says almost 10,000 people have read my journal since last week so I'm kinda curious who exactly these 10,000 people are.
Date: 2010-05-21
From: Tom Levardi's home (Dalton, MA)

To: Tom Levardi's home (Dalton, MA)
Miles today: 24.0
Weather: clear sky

I was up and adam this morning before 6 o'clock, sitting upright and alert on the couch where I slept. I was thrilled to be so awake. If I had been in the woods, I decided, I'd be on the trail. The house was warm and kept out the chilly morning, a chilly morning that would've normally paralyzed me in my sleeping bag. A general law of hking: the colder the morning the slower the rise.We all walked over to a diner for breakfast at 6:45 - Tom, the Georgia Boys and I. I spent $4.75 on the special (a heap of homefries, 2 eggs, toast and bottomless coffee) and a blueberry muffin that the waitress offered to "grill" (she brought it back blackened on both sides). I drank like five cups of coffee. Still out of money, the Georgia Boys spotted me on the bill.Tom drove us 24 miles North to where the AT intersects Williamstown (from there, we would walk back to his home via the AT). For once freed from our backpacks, and weexpected to cover the 24 miles up and over Graylock Mountain with leisure and ease. I was quite angry thanks to yet another baffled attempt at recieving my maildrop in Williamstown, but I swallowed and decided to forget about it for the day. This day was sunny and mine, and neither dark clouds nor or stresses were about to ruin it. I felt fresh as we parted ways and began walking.The 6-mile ascent to Graylock wasn't too bad. I sat at the top, spit sunflower seeds, and looked out across the most expansive view we'd seen for 500 miles. The view was mighty and powerful like a hammer, falling smooth yet strong. I don't know how to describe it, but it resonated inside and out.For the rest of the day (the last 18 miles), I hiked alone. I ran sometimes, walked others, and just calmly took in the day. The colors were outstanding, confined to the greens, blues and browns of the forest yet somehow glowing in a million shades. I sat on a soft bed of moss and thought about how LIFE lay around me. The walls and metal and plastics of the home aren't alive-they don't live. But there's something profound about sitting with LIFe around you. You can almost feel it breathing.Before 5 o'clock I arrived back in Dalton. I took a shower, a nap, and ate another excellent dinner prepared by Tom. A boiled medely of cabbage, carrots, and potatoes served with a salad, 2 cobs of corn and hot dogs. It was the first healthy meal I had in many weeks, and I gorged.
Date: 2010-05-22
From: Tom Levardi's home (Dalton, MA)

To: Goddard Shelter
Miles today: 28.6
Weather: clear sky

Three thirty-mile days into Rutland: that was my plan when Tom Levardi dropped me off at Massachusetts Rt. 2. It was 8:45 in the morning, and warm. I was alone and feeling fresh. Thirty miles lay ahead and I felt ready for them. The Georgia boys were about an hour behind.At dusk, I lay at the foot of a mountain. I was hungry, very hungry. I had scant food supply and hunger had set in early that day, so by sunset I felt like a skeleton. Thirty miles and I had one more mountain to climb. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't believe I was this hungry.A word on hunger: sometimes it sucks, sometimes it invigorates. For the affluent American, hunger is a negative state that usually occurs as an active choice that lasts, perhaps, for several short hours at the end of the day. In such cases, hunger is sought after. For relatively complacent Americans, a couple hours of monk-like discipline offers a hunger that makes one feel lean inside, potent, alive. But the pleasant sound of tummy-rumbles, coming just before a home-cooked meal after a long day at work, are invigorating yet entirely self-imposed. But the rumbles are not so pleasant when you're in the woods.Hunger bears down upon me in the mountains. Hiking hungry is okay from time to time, but after a while it begins to feel urgent. It oppresses morale, dims the spirit, and weakens the body. And there's nothing I can do about it. It is hopelessly out of my control. This is true hunger, I believe, and there's no romanticism to be found. In summary, I now understand the animalism awakened by this persistent, maddening sort of hunger. Looking at video footage of starving people in Africa, all I can say is that I understand like I didn't before. I know how it feels to be truly hungry, at least for three days (the collapse on the mountain was Day 1 of 3).Well, I made it to the shelter at the top of the mountain. There, a fire awaited me and, around it, three young guys drinking whiskey. I collapsed in the high grass. We exchanged glances. "You want some cheese and pepperoni, man?" I must have looked pretty bad. As the night wore on I drank whiskey and ate more cheese and pepperoni by the fire. Their names were Candyman, Bug Bite, and Clamspoon. Bug Bite said he was trapped in Vermont and that he was going to San Francisco to start over. I felt sort of inspired by that.
Date: 2010-05-23
From: Goddard Shelter

To: Next to VT Route 11 (Manchester Center, VT)
Miles today: 30.0
Weather: scattered clouds

I got up early and took off before Candyman & Co. stirred. A short hike to the summit presented a tall fire-tower. I climbed it. At the top, the blue whisps of cloud raced by and a panoramic view flooded out in all directions. At the next shelter (Kidd Gore) I devoured a banana-nut bread Clif Bar. The sun was out strong and the view from the shelter was nice, so I hung around and continued eating (ripping into next day's bags). An hour later I'd eaten to the point of nausea and condemning myself to two days of constant hunger and begging along the trail. Self-control? At this point I have none.At the next shelter (Story Spring) I waited for the Georgia boys. They'd started their day 8 miles behind me, but by 2:00 pm they'd caught up. For the next several hours I hiked with them. At the top of Stratton Pond Mountain, the fire-tower view was, without a doubt, the most beautiful view yet in 1,700 miles. I cannot describe it here, but I will remember it forever. The blues, the greens, the whites. The lakes, the forests, the peaks. It all rang out in the core.I left the Georgia boys at the next shelter and moved on into the sunset. The bugs were terrible, so I was glad as night fell. My plan was to hike a 40-mile day, but I abandoned it for a 30 to Vermont Rt. 11. I fell asleep under the stars next to the highway.
Date: 2010-05-24
From: Next to VT Route 11 (Manchester Center, VT)

To: Minerva-Hinchey Shelter
Miles today: 30.0
Weather: clear sky

I was on the trail at 6:00am. Actually, I fell asleep there so I never left the trail in the first place. I walked into the sunrise and to the top of Bromley Mountain, where I took in another spectacular view. The summit was claimed by the ski resort, so it was packed with lift machines, snow-blowing equipment, ski lodges and big ski trail signs. I walked into a small warming hut and called my dad on a phone there, then moved on.It was a long and boring day, but I wasn't upset about it. I just walked. By 3:00 I'd covered 20 miles, and I weighed my three options: another 10 before dusk to make 30, or another 20 into the night to make 40, or another 30 into the early morning to make a record of 50 miles. The 50-miler was almost out of the question, the 40-miler would be a push in itself, and the 30-miler my conservative plan. I was hungry to exhaustion as I walked the next 10-mile leg, and when I got to the shelter at sunset I mulled over moving on. A Long Trail thru-hiker offered me food and I kicked off my boots. Once the belly was full and feet free, that was that. I called it a day at 30.One interesting change in the forest was the morph from New England hardwoods into a boreal forest. The forest felt like a cathedral, echoing with birds and spacey for nearly a hundred yards in every direction. There were trees, yes--old hemlocks, spruces, and firs--but no shrubbery choking the understory. It was all open and cast blue in the shade. It smelled of Christmas, and red squirrels darted about. The hiking hurt but the scenery was incredible.