morvasaaty/AppalachianTrail-LD-Hikers-Blogs-and-Weather-20-years huggingface dataset:
Date: 2017-06-17
From: West Carry Pond Lean-To

To: Horns Pond Lean-to
Miles today: 17.9
Weather: light rain

It rained all night and at 3:30 am I reached down to the foot of the tent and felt water. Then I realized that it had soaked my hiking shirt and pants. What will I wear tomorrow? I¢d already been stressing about reaching Rangeley in three days. Now this. From then on I woke every 20 minutes, gnawing away at the same question. What I decided was to hike in my sleeping clothes ¢ cardinal sin ¢ my long underwear bottoms and top. I¢d wear my rain jacket and rain pants over them.  The rain lightened up and then stopped while I was folding up the tent. Those wet hiking clothes weighed heavy in my pack.  In the first shelter 7 miles later, I hung them up to start drying and sat down to eat an early first lunch. Sweet young Dot all but lectured me, ¢You put that shirt and pants on and you wear them dry. You never wear your sleep clothes on trail!¢ And ladies, get ready to cringe. By way of example, Dot was wearing her wet sports bra. She¢d been an outdoor trek leader at her college and for a moment I felt, even at age 65 with 10,000+ hiking miles under my belt, like one of her wayward students. I packed up after lunch and ¢ cringe, cringe ¢ put on the cold and wet shirt and pants. And you know what? Within 15 minutes they were semi warm and within 2 hours they were a rough semblance of dry. This old dog is always open to learning new tricks. And under that Maine gray sky, without rain, we got our first climb done before lunch and then took on the long 2000+ foot push to the top of the two Bigelows. We rose above the clouds, sun out. Glorious views. We¢d left strong hikers from the lean-to behind, camping at mile 13. Myself and Dot, Frankenfoot, and Frostbite were pushing on to Horns Pond Lean-tos. They were vocal about what a long, hard day it had been, expressing my own silent thoughts. These young folks are so strong, and they are going in to town tomorrow. I face two days ahead, over a mile longer each day. At the top of Bigelow Mountain in the sun a local had pointed out my path ahead, peak by peak, and when I told him my schedule, two 19-mile days, he said in understated New England-ish, ¢That¢s ambitious.¢ Heading into Horns I decided. I have to heed my own advice, just as I¢d listened to Dot. ¢Don¢t push too hard at the beginning of a hike,¢ I¢d told scores of our starting PCT hikers. I am letting go of the goal to get to Rangeley on our anniversary. Frodo, forgive me. ¢Make wise decisions.¢ That¢s what my love says to me, too. I hope she¢ll understand.  Thankful to be dry. Thankful to be sleeping in a lean-to. First time on my AT hike. Good night. Scout
Date: 2017-06-19
From: Carrabasset River

To: Poplar Ridge Lean-To
Miles today: 13.3
Weather: moderate rain

Except for the Whitehouse Landing day, I have never stopped this early ¢ 3:00 pm. Though my alarm went off at 4:40 am and I started hiking at 5:30, I knew I was in a race with the rain today. Yesterday Frodo told me that a big storm is due this afternoon, and on the trail this morning a northbounder said the rain is supposed to start at noon, with flash flood warnings for 2:00 pm.  I pushed through the first big climb this morning and began the second at 12:30. Like a child being punished, I skipped lunch (Frodo: WHO does that to a child??). The first thunderclap came booming as I started up that second big climb. But it was still sunny! At that point the shelter was 3 miles ahead. The first drops fell at 1:00. Within minutes the thunder was non-stop and the rain was coming down in buckets. ¢Shelter, shelter, shelter.¢ Put one foot in front of the other. On the steep bouldery parts of the climb I crept upward, trying not to fall. Walking up to the shelter and standing under the roof was such a vast relief. I am in my dry sleep clothes now. My wet clothes hang from nails in the log frame overhead. I am now set up to hike 10 miles to get to the highway, to see Frodo tomorrow. She actually plans to hike in 2 miles and meet me at the next shelter. I don¢t want this to come across as mean, but I hope those two miles include at least a good taste of how difficult this Maine trail tread can be. Frodo, I am not a slacker. You just really can¢t pile on the miles out here, like you can on the PCT and often the CDT.Frodo admonished me that I should get too gushy, so I¢ll just share one slice of what I was thinking today on our 40th Wedding Anniversary. I have long said that the three happiest days of my life were the days each one of our kids were born. Recently at a book event where I was going to mention that our 40th anniversary was coming up, I planned to say that the three best days of my life were our kids¢ births and that the next best was our wedding day 40 years ago. But I found that the words stuck in my throat. The truth is the most important event in my life was meeting and marrying Frodo. Our wedding day was definitely the happiest day of my life. (Sorry, kids, you three are a close second.)  I CAN¢T WAIT TO SEE HER TOMORROW.
Date: 2017-06-20
From: Poplar Ridge Lean-To

To: Hwy 4 and Rangeley 
Miles today: 10.7
Weather: light rain

I am going to see Frodo today. That dominated my thoughts as I got up to pee in the wee hours, as my alarm goes off at 4:30 am, and I try to think of her as I put on my wet hiking shirt and pants to ¢wear them dry¢ as Dot taught me. Still, wet clothes on the body at 5:30 am builds character, puts hair on the chest, and [princess alert] shrivels certain parts of anatomy. 10.7 miles to the road. 9 miles to the lean-to that she will hike in to, to meet me. On the Pacific Crest Trail we speak of doing a ¢ten by ten,¢ ten miles by 10:00 am. That¢s a term I¢ve never heard out here on the AT. Ahead od me I have three stiff Maine climbs, up over The Horn, Saddleback Junior and Saddleback Mountain. When I start there is more blue sky than clouds. Promising!   The first drops begin on the first climb. Single drops become families, become crowds, become rioting hordes. The dry granite becomes wet, then soaked, and the steep-stepped path up becomes its own torrent. Head down, I celebrate each summit as I reach it. The downpour made me feel like I was either in Maine or in a monsoon. I fell 14 times, not dainty slips, but hard banana-peel falls on greased-bowling-ball granite. These 14 pratfalls are more than the total number of falls I had on the entire PCT in five months. (Frodo: He does not look like a happy camper.)   (Photobucket is stilll not working.  photos can be accessed using the "photos"button to the left or follow these to links: http://www.trailjournals.com/j... and http://www.trailjournals.com/j... ) But improbably after the third summit the sun came out. Glories. I had such views. I whooped for joy. I was headed down to see my love. ***Frodo and I have now completed our ¢Gift of the Magi¢ moment. I discussed this in an earlier post. During my last zero day I had arranged for a series of family and friends to spend the day with Frodo, bringing her a mimosa, taking her out for a mani-pedi, out to the theater, etc. But all these people were double agents. Frodo was going to surprise me by showing up at the trailhead that day. When tough trail and bad weather slowed my pace so I wouldn¢t get to the road on our Anniversary, Frodo ¢fessed up from the Atlanta airport. Neither of our plans came off as originally envisioned. But when I saw her at 1:30 and we hugged, none of that mattered a bit. It¢s a day after our 40th and both of us feel very cherished.
Date: 2017-06-22
From: Hwy 4 and Rangeley 

To: Bemis Mountain Lean-to
Miles today: 17.9
Weather: broken clouds

[Frodo has done yesterday's journal entry while I took the day off from journal writing.  She won't tell me what it's going to say.  I'll see it the same time you do, or later]I hike out in new shoes after I hug Frodo and hear her exhort me one more time, "Make wise decisions!"  I got nearly 500 miles out of my first pair, including training hikes.   I had not realized that I'd been unintentionally torturing myself. I filter water with a Sawyer squeeze - fill a one-liter bottle from a brook or lake, attach the Sawyer Squeeze and then squeeze the bottle, driving fluid through the filter in a stream into my water bladder. This has become a time-consuming, pain-in-the-hands chore. Frodo found me a new one in town and it now takes me a quarter of the time with a quarter of the effort. Why did I wait so long? Sunny hiking and lake hopping--climb one moderate rise and drop down again to another lake. One lake had a canoe, paddles, and life preserver set for use. Another lake had a rustic writing desk just waiting for me to sit down.  I met a half dozen northbounders, including Data, who stayed with us in 2015 before starting the PCT. ¢I know you." Miscellaneous: They say that DEET will dissolve plastic. The other day Dot sprayed DEET-based insect repellent on her legs and a short time later rested a plastic food package across her lap. When she lifted it up, some of the words from the plastic label had transferred to her legs. What I don¢t get is that it¢s not okay for plastic, but it¢s okay for our skin?With 14 miles down and nearly 4 to go, the first big climb looms ahead. As I stood still for a moment, Cuckoo came up. Lucky for the both of us. We pounded up steadily, fueled by each other¢s stories, like on Fathers Day. How is it possible that it almost seems painless? We¢re in the Bemis Mountain Lean-to. She¢s reading Annie Proulx¢s Shipping News and I¢m on page 350 of John Irving¢s Cider House Rules. They say the chance of rain tomorrow is 90%. I know today was sunny and dry. Tomorrow will be what it is. Back to Cider House for a while¢¦
Date: 2017-06-23
From: Bemis Mountain Lean-to

To: Hall Mountain Lean-To
Miles today: 12.6

Pouring rain. But on the roof of the shelter. My 5:30 alarm goes off. I essentially ignore it. Wring yourselves out, clouds. I lie here and listen to the intensity lessen. At 6:30 I move and begin my morning routine. I hike out at 7:40 in a light shower. We have a series of modest climbs. Modest for Maine, that is. No complaints from me. The view from the last, Old Blue Mountain, is supposed to be awesome. I can¢t see a thing. But I¢m joyous nonetheless. The rain has stopped. I put away my umbrella. Have you ever wondered why I don¢t mention the height of these peaks? This particular punishing massif was 3600 feet! By West Coast standards, that¢s a nub on a wart attached to the lower limb below the shoulder of mountains like San Jacinto, Baden Powell, or Whitney. But if the category is degree of difficulty to walk up, these Maine contenders punch far above their weight class. On Old Blue Mountain my revelry is shattered. I have a moment of smart phone coverage. The email said that the son of a good friend, married only two weeks, had lost his wife to a bear mauling. She was a field geologist in Alaska. Married for so little time, so young, so, so wrong. I was able to raise Frodo. She was worried as soon as she heard the tone of my voice. I just needed to hear hers, to tell her I love her. I sent a text to our three kids and their spouses/significant other: We love each one of you greatly. I sent a text to my friend and she responded.  What is wrong with the universe? I reach my goal for the day at 6:00 pm sharp, the Hall Mountain Lean-to. I share it with one other SOBO (southbounder). We seem to be in a bit of a bubble, not many in front of us. We¢re more in the leading edge than I¢d have thought. My goal for tomorrow is Grafton Notch, 16.3 miles ahead, where our son Sean is picking me up. We will overnight at the home of a friend of Sean¢s from college. (Dartmouth, which is right on the AT ¢ the trail actually runs alongside the campus.) I¢ll get town food, a shower, and a bed. Early the next morning Sean will head out with me for four days in the White Mountains. On each of my other thru-hikes he joined me once by himself and once with his girlfriend/wife. I¢m greatly looking forward to it. The Maine/New Hampshire border is in 31 miles. I will definitely be ready for another state.  And now with dinner in my belly it¢s time for a chaser of hot chocolate. (I am ignoring the rain on the roof. If I don¢t listen to it, is it really there?)
Date: 2017-06-24
From: Hall Mountain Lean-To

To: Grafton Notch
Miles today: 16.3
Weather: overcast clouds

Some of you may have noticed that I let June 21st pass without notice. It was the day Frodo and I were in Rangeley, a full zero day. But as Ron Dumoff pointed out to me, ¢Scout, how could you let Hike Naked Day pass?¢ (Frodo: unbeknownst to Scout when he wrote this, I had addressed Hike Naked Day in the entry I wrote for that day.)For those of you uninitiated, Hike Naked Day is the summer solstice and the traditional day on the AT and the PCT to bare your all, at least at some point during the day. On the PCT we were with a convivial group that day (Frodo: I was the sole female among 5 males!) and we stripped down long enough to take some tasteful-ish photos. (Frodo: not very long, but I still got three mosquito bites on tender flesh! I¢ll post a photo when I have access to the computer on which they are stored.) But, Ron, hike naked with these blackflies? But they, Frodo, and I were in town and any naked-getting will NOT be described in this journal. But back to this day, June 24th. My alarm went off at 4:20 and I set out at 5:00 am. It didn¢t rain last night and when I got up to go pee I saw stars.  What I didn¢t see was¢¦. Well, let¢s backtrack a moment. I grew up in West L. A., in Culver City. The only place I¢d ever seen fireflies was in movies and in Disneyland¢s Pirates of the Caribbean. I didn¢t see my first firefly until age 21. Not all things are as amazing as you imagine. Fireflies lived up to every ounce of their hype. So another way this AT hike would be different - I¢d hike into firefly country. This morning Cuckoo swears she saw fireflies when she woke last night. Why not me, too? After I started hiking, within a quarter mile the sky made up its mind. Rain. Lots. Sigh. Why¢d I start so early? Our son Sean is picking me up at the trailhead 16.3 miles away and we¢re staying overnight with a college chum of his, Cathy and her husband and their three little ones. I had felt close to Cathy when Sean was in college and I want to squeeze in every ounce of visiting time with the family before the kids turned in. ¢Sean, I¢ll be there around 5:30 pm.¢ Hiking all day, a foreshortened lunch, and at 5:33 I walked into the Grafton Notch parking lot. As I get ready to turn out the light I have chicken they raised in my belly, local salad greens, bread slathered with butter, pan-blackened asparagus, and not one, but two, bowls of ice cream digesting in my gut. Still, when I borrowed shorts to wear while my clothes are washed, I too easily fit into a pair of shorts with a waist size a full 2 inches down from my normal 34. Eat, Scout, eat.  Tomorrow I start hiking with my firstborn. One more way that I am a lucky man.
Date: 2017-06-25
From: Grafton Notch

To: Full Goose Shelter
Miles today: 10.0
Weather: scattered clouds

(Frodo: I have finally received several journal entries and I'm trying to catch up by posting two per day.  Since the default set-up is to open the most recent entry whenever you go to Scout's trailjournal website, make sure you don't miss a day.)I had bacon with breakfast this morning at Sean¢s friend¢s home. Alex and Cathy raise their own chickens and pigs. Last night it was barbeque chicken, theirs. And this morning the butter and blueberry pancakes were accompanied by home applewood-cured from-their-own-pig bacon. One taste of this and the faithless would be believe there must be a god in heaven. What is it that Farmer John and Hormel sell that¢s labelled ¢bacon¢? We started eating at 6:15 and didn¢t get back on the trail till 8:30. A huge thanks to Cathy, Alex, and their three delightful munchkins.But why is this nice Jewish boy singing paeans to bacon? Good question. Back to that later.Sean and I planned 14 miles today. It sets up the next day at a Gorham Hiker Hostel, the following night at the on-trail AMC Carter Notch Hut and then Frodo meets us the day after (whoo hoo!). But, and this is a big but, I didn¢t know until breakfast that today¢s Mahoosuc Notch is called ¢THE WORST MILE ON THE AT.¢ Oops.Sean and I had a stiff 2500-foot climb right off, but mid-day brought a string of glorious views. Mid-afternoon we precipitously drop and at 4:00 pm we enter ¢ cue battle scene music from Star Wars ¢ The Notch. Big reaches with arms, long extensions of legs, rebar rungs, narrow slots we have to take our packs off to slide through. We slow to a crawl, a creep. Is it possible to even cover a mile at this pace?Two hours. Two hours without let up. We emerge at the other end of the huge boulder jumble Notch. My son and I have traversed the AT¢s hardest. We pull into Full Goose Shelter at 7:30, four miles shy of our goal. We are done in. We have only another hour of good daylight left. ¢Make wise decisions.¢ Tonight we stay here. And to end the day with visions of bacon. I eat bacon but no other pork because of West Union, Iowa. During the depression my maternal grandparents, Orthodox Jews, were the only Jewish family in the town of 3000. My grandfather was the furrier and scrap metal dealer. There was no kosher butcher, of course, but my grandparents decided their kids still had to eat meat to be healthy ¢ beef and bacon. No other pork. (Frodo: It doesn¢t really make sense that bacon would be on the list, but this was Iowa, known for corn and pigs, and I think Scout¢s mom said something about her parents being told that bacon contributed to a child¢s strength.) My mother passed the habit on to me. I¢ve never had ham and no other park product has passed my lips. Yes, you are absolutely right; it makes no sense.But some might say the same thing about hiking from Maine to Georgia.
Date: 2017-06-27
From: Gorham

To: Carter Notch Hut
Miles today: 15.2
Weather: clear sky

What a lovely night¢s sleep. I¢m wrapped in a soft quilt on the bottom bunk and it¢s early morning. From above me I hear the rhythmic breathing of my son. Both of us were wiped from yrsterday¢s 21-mile, 17-hour hiking day. But nighttime and sleep perform miracles as our bodies recover.We have 15.2 hard miles today, but ¢hard¢ is a relative term, its meaning stretched like silly putty after The Most Difficult Mile and after yesterday¢s crazy 21-mile day. Today we know we can make this: Gorham to the northernmost of the AMC¢s string of 8 staffed huts, Carter Notch Hut.  Almost civilized.In addition to the waffles and the butter, there was Skippy John Jones t the table. I haven¢t seen him in three weeks, since two days after Katahdin. He was in fine fettle, had news of other hikers, and he and Sean traded stories about their respective service in Afghanistan. Do you remember that Skippy names all, yes every piece, of his gear.  I said hello again to Priscilla and Penelope, his trekking poles. Here are the three of us humans: http://www.trailjournals.com/j...Our 3200-foot climb wasn¢t as tough as it might have been. The first two miles of trail, as often is true near a trailhead, was fairly civilized. And then the first half of the gain, when it was stair-step steep, was occupied talking with a young SOBO, Ethan or Stringbean, whom I hadn¢t seen in ten days. Seam and I had a civilized lunch, too. Pizza leftovers from last night in sunshine and with great views.Of course at day¢s end, with a sheer drop descent ¢ 1700 feet in a mile ¢ the sky unloaded hail on us at the top of Carter Dome. Careful, careful. New Hampshire granite is slick when wet. The sight of Carter Notch Hut¢s stone building, the happy faces inside with five picnic tables and a kitchen were so welcome when we rolled in at 7:20 pm. That was almost three hours earlier than last night¢s quitting time.  So civilized.  Here we are at dinner: http://www.trailjournals.com/j...Finally, I saw my face for the first time in days in a mirror. I have a shooting star scab on my cheek. Three days ago there was a collision between a branch and my cheek. Boy, did it bleed. But it left me with a beautiful (Frodo: ???!!???) shooting star on my cheek. http://www.trailjournals.com/j... Tomorrow 6.1 miles, to Frodo, to a nearo and a zero. I am ready for some rest.
Date: 2017-07-01
From: Lakes of the Clouds Hut, Mt. Washington

To: Crawford Notch
Miles today: 11.0
Weather: scattered clouds

I wake in the Dungeon. Dank. A small peek of light from the teensy window, rusted metal, low ceiling that drips, and bunks with a two-foot clearance. I can¢t sit up. But outside the thick iron door is hope ¢ no rain.I have 11 miles to go, mostly downhill, 4000 feet, and not only is it not raining, but the trail tread itself is decent. For stretches of a hundred yards or more at a time I can lengthen my stride. Did I tell you that I bent one of my trekking poles yesterday? I¢ll bet at least a quarter of all southbounders have so far, though it happens rarely on the PCT. I torqued the pole, putting weight on it at an angle beyond what its valiant aluminum heart could take. It¢s usable, but now curved like a dueling scar, or the shooting-star scab on my cheek; one more way the AT has marked me.¢Frodo, the trail has been real nice,¢ I texted from on high. She¢s picking me up at Crawford Notch trailhead after these 11 miles. Aaauugghh, Scout, don¢t you know better by now? It¢s the lesson Maine drummed into your head. It¢s the lesson of Mahoosuc Notch ¢ Never underestimate how much time it will take.I started hiking at 6:00 am. I won¢t take any breaks so maybe I¢ll be done at 1:00 or even 12:30.But it wasn¢t raining, the high fog was more clear than not, I was above treeline in the Presidentials, passing Mt. Eisenhower, Mt. Clinton, passing view after view. The trail grew more and more irregular as I descended, more rocky, muddy, boggy. Dreams of sugarplums, dreams of 1:00 evaporated. But the sun was out.I had a trail first. I had downloaded an audiobook on my iPhone, Jack London¢s Call of the Wild. I put on my headphones and 140-pound Buck, the cushy judge¢s dog stolen for a life in the Yukon Gold Rush flowed into my ears. Not bad. When the rain started in earnest, the descent turned New-Hampshire-steep, 2000 feet in 1.5 miles. Like Buck I adjusted to the harsh new reality.  Here's a photo looking back up the trail: http://www.trailjournals.com/j...And finally at 2:03 I reached highway 302 at Crawford Notch, and Frodo. She flies back to San Diego but tonight she is mine, or rather I¢m hers.We had a hiker stop by our room at the Attitash Resort. We hosted Margaret (aka Banshee) for two nights back in 2009 when she hiked the PCT. Now she¢s married and a full-time baker. I¢m not sure which was better, trading stories of the PCT and the days when we hosted 150 a year, not 900, or the fresh baked goods she brought us. See, it¢s not ALL about the food. I¢m going to hike out tomorrow with a turkey sandwich made with thick slices of that crusty sourdough.Time to work on my food resupply with Frodo. She¢s so good to me.