morvasaaty/AppalachianTrail-LD-Hikers-Blogs-and-Weather-20-years huggingface dataset:
Date: 2010-03-26
From: The Place (Damascus, VA)

To: Augusta's Appalachian Inn (Damascus, VA)
Miles today: 18.0
Weather: overcast clouds

Today my dad came! I woke up early and walked across the street to Augusta's Appalachian Inn. I'd met Terry and Sissy on their front porch of their B&B the day I entered town, so I recommended the place to my dad. down the street/AT for a diner for a breakfast of pancakes, bacon and egg. From there I hit the trail for an 18-mile day hike (I'd hitch back to Damascus that afternoon to meet my dad). I was anxious to get some more miles under my belt. A mile down the trail, I realized that I forgot the pay for my breakfast. But I disappeared into the woods and told myself I'd pay when I got back to town. It was raining and I was soaked shortly, which was uncomfortable. I wore only Terry's daypack, so I was able to trail run off and on. My feet hurt.For you history buffs, the trail was a cool one. It ran along the Virginia Creeper Trail, an old railroad used to export valuable timber from the region. Thanks to the Creeper, named for the "creeping" slow speeds of the trains, acres of old-growth poplar and hemlock forests were leveled and Damascus experienced a economic boom. The lumber boom died, the rail went to public transportation, and by the 1980's the state stripped the ties and closed the line. In it's place, they layed out the Virginia Creeper Scenic Trail. It is open for pedestrian, equestrian, and bicycle traffic. Between the trail and the rail flowed the Laurel River, a fairly-wide river popular for trout angling. The whole day, I could hear the dull roar of the river rapids.By 2:30 I was at U.S. Highway 58 (1.5 mi N of Lost Mountain Shelter), where I was to meet my Dad in the parking lot at 5:00 PM. Too cold to wait, I thumbed a ride. The pick-up took my several miles down the road, but I found myself again on the side of the road, sticking out my thumb in the rain-turned-snow. It was cold.After over 2 hours of thumbing unsuccessfully (I hated Mankind at this point), I saw Terry coming down the road in his new 4-door pick-up. It had been a cold and shivering wait, and I was too exhausted to be excited about this stroke up good fortune (*you see, my Dad had called in bad traffic and asked for Terry to come pick me up). I got back to the B&B, drank hot coffee, and took a shower before my Dad arrived. I got out of the showever and stopped: was that my Dad's voice downstairs? It was, and something ticked and I suddenly felt so safe. Yea, Pops was downstairs, and it was good.That night we went out for burgers at Quincy's and met "Full Moon," our waiter and three-time 1,000-miler that worked also at the bike shop next store. We asked about biking the Virginia Creeper Trail tomorrow, and he gave us the low-down. We asked about the Tavern, a fancy restaurant in Abingdon, and he gave us the low-down. The chef came out and talked to us about the menu; the the scznitzel, he said, the scznitzel.We drank some beers and walked back to Augusta's and sorted out my food. All I can say is that reunited with my Dad was one of the most amazing things I've yet experienced on the Trail. We went to bed around midnight.
Date: 2010-03-27
From: Augusta's Appalachian Inn (Damascus, VA)

To: Holiday Inn Express (Abingdon, VA)
Miles today: 0.0

What a weekend with Ford. I guess you can call me a "Guest" writer for Ford (Uncle Frank). After a great day in Damascus conquering the grueling downhill Creeper trail on bikes, we headed over to Abingdon to see the town and get a steak dinner before Ford hits the trail again. Abingdon is a very cool town that is home to The Tavern where Ford and I got the VERY best steak that I have had in memory. I don¢t know if it was the self imposed fast that Ford and I were on in preparation for our dinner or the company but we both agreed that steak dinners like that don¢t come frequently enough. After we gorged ourselves we lay back in our chairs, starred at each other and reminisced of great steak dinners of our time. We agreed that we must do better about keep track of great steak dinners and that more were surly to come. I also reminded Ford that a great lobster, not yet in the boat awaited him in Maine. Ford is a big topic with Ford nowadays and I don¢t mind doing my part to make sure he gets his share of gastronomical events while in Virginia.I put him back on the trail today. Rested I hope. The rain began to fall as Ford got his gear together put it on his back and slipped into his poncho. I was amazed at how fast he got his gear together and reminisced at the time when he was a scout when it took hours to leave the car for an overnight and he was ready and on the trail in 5 minutes for a week. After a hug and some encouraging words before he disappeared into the wet leaves of the Rhododendrons of the Appalachian Trail.As I made my way back to Richmond, I thought about how much I wished I could be on the trail with Ford and what an amazing journey he is on. To be with him this weekend gave me some insight into his journey. It¢s complicated but very simple. It seems like by being on the trail alone most of time, when you get to a small town like Damascus or Abingdon, connecting with people becomes a big part of the experience. No one does this with more enthusiasm than Ford. I am so proud to say I am Ford¢s Dad.
Date: 2010-03-28
From: U.S. 58

To: Wise Shelter
Miles today: 20.0
Weather: snow

Hey Everybodies! I'm losing steam documenting every detail of every day, so I'm just going to do a High-and-Low format to cut down on the tedium and simplify things a bit. Here it goes...Highs: My first high was meeting up and picking the brain of Eric, a 7-time PCT (and 2-time AT) ultra-light thru-hiker with a 6 lbs. pack. Eric is 39 and works at a brewery out West to save money for his next thru-hike, and I asked him question after question about how he accomplishes a thru-hike. What do you eat? How often do you drink? Do you take ibuprofen? Why the umbrella? My second high was hiking on Whitetop Mountain in 100 mph winds (100 according to Eric). Crossing the bald, that mighty wind blew OFF his poncho and knocked me down twice. I just screamed with excitement, "Wooooooooo-hoo-hoo-hoo!". It was a blast. Eric said he'd never seen winds that high. "And it cost zero dollars and zero cents!", I said. Eric liked to trail run and I struggled to keep up.Lows: Saying "Bye Dad" sucked. He dropped me at the trailhead and we both went our separate ways and I told myself, "Just keep walking. It'll all be fine. Just keep walking." I tried to be jolly but I felt so alone.
Date: 2010-03-29
From: Wise Shelter

To: Trimpi Shelter
Miles today: 20.0
Weather: broken clouds

Highs: Seeing a young owl flap curiously around me. His flap was loud and awkward, and needed practice. That was at dusk, after I'd spent almost an hour trail running down to Trimpi Shelter. When I got to the shelter, two old fellas awaited me with a hot fire, and I dried my socks and boots.Lows: It rained alot that morning/afternoon, and for a couple hours I sat in the shelter not wanting to move on into the rain. Getting started sucked. Another low was wandering with numb barefeet around Trimpi Shelter looking for firewood.
Date: 2010-03-30
From: Trimpi Shelter

To: north of Atkins
Miles today: 27.0

Highs: Eating at a shelter after a morning of hunger, napping in the sun, smelling the pines. Also, I met Joe, a 2-time record-breaker for speed-hiking the PCT. He was also ultra-light. Joe was stocky with tattooed arms (not your typical long-distance hiker build). I hiked with him until near Atkins and picked his brain. "You'll be a different person when you get back," he promised me. "Something will change." At such a young age, he said I'd probably end up hiking the PCT next year. "Twenty-one? It's good you're getting into this stuff [long-distance hiking] so early," he said. He was in his 40's.Another high was leaving Joe to trail-run to Atkins, down the mountains and into the pastureland. At the bog, the grass was lush and green, and I saw purplish-green jar plants. At Atkins, I ate veggies and picked up a maildrop at the Barnyard Restaurant and set off at sunset for some night hiking. I hiked until nearly 10:30 under a full moon. At the top of the mountain, I pulled off and layed out my sleeping bag under the moon. I toothed open a bottle of Dead Guy Ale and drank it, staring dazed at the moon. Everything was gray silver or hidden in moon-shadow. A full moon is an amazing thing.Lows: None! Maybe a little foot pain in the beginning, but nothing qualifying as a low.
Date: 2010-03-31
From: north of Atkins

To: Jenkins Shelter
Miles today: 30.0
Weather: broken clouds

Highs: Joe caught up with me mid-day, and covering ground with him was probably my high of the day. I asked him questions and let him talk. Also, getting up at sunrise on the mountaintop was a gratifying experience. Lastly, a tough 4-mile climb with Joe culminated at Chestnut Nob, a beautiful 270-degree view of the surrounding mountains. You could really see the hand of geology from the ridge, the pushed the mountains together into wrinkles and smoothed them over.Lows: Eating too much cous-cous at lunch always sucks. I was burping it up all the way up Chestnut Nob. Good energy, I guess. The last bit of night-hiking sucked. I was just impatient and ready to call it a day, but I pushed on.
Date: 2010-04-01
From: Jenkins Shelter

To: Jenny's Knob Shelter
Miles today: 23.8
Weather: clear sky

Highs: My highest point of the day, I think, was deciding to make 9 miles in 3 hours and DOING IT, despite uphill terrain and sore feet. I just pushed and pushed, invigorated by cool night air and a big bag of walnuts, almonds, and cranberries (my power food, I think). I also enjoyed lounging by the river for what seemed like all afternoon. Lastly, finding Storm Crow in the shelter that night was a pleasant surprise. He gave me some trail mix because I was hungry from hiking and all out of food. I got to hear Storm Crow talk about his hobby: medieval battle. Since his 20's he's been dressing as a "3rd to 4th Century Germanic warrior" and battling against other characters with dull weapons. It's called Live Action Warfare (LAW) or something like that, and well-dressed Americans trade their collared shirts and slacks for a full medieval suit of armor and a weapon to match. All fighting styles gather in field and forest for an eclectic battle of epic proportions, and afterwards they brew up a massive pot of stew and drink punch. Storm Crow was knocked unconscious once, he said, by a blow dealt by the catan of a Japanese Samurai, and brought him into his tent afterwards for a drink [That's right, he owns a authentic medievel tent]. In the heat of battle, if you're hit in the arm you can't use it anymore. Hit in the leg? You've got to hop. The chest or neck? You're dead. It all sounded pretty awesome. Wesley, Sean and I have dealt full blows before with wooden shafts in our lacrosse pads, but doing it with practice and precision sounds awesome. Not to mention charging into enemy lines with 500 fellow warriors.Lows: Eating all my food, though relaxing, makes me feel like crap. I do it anyway out of an incontrollable hunger instinct, and it does give me fuel for afternoon hiking. But that was my low of the day. Also, the first 5 miles was painful on my feet.
Date: 2010-04-02
From: Jenny's Knob Shelter

To: Woods Hole Hostel
Miles today: 21.0
Weather: clear sky

The highs included eating and lounging outside a convenience store after a morning of aching hunger. I had 2 slices of pizza, 2 gatorades, a candybar, and a bag of nuts. A stray puppy kept wandering out of an old barn and barking at me. I'd ignore him and he'd tip-toe back into the barn. Local lumbermill workers on lunch-break sat quietly at a picnic table nearby. I layed over and fell asleep. Storm Crow walked up shortly after with a 6-pack of Yuengling. He called for a shuttle to the Woods Hole Hostel, and he drank and talked about 4 "pretty recent" hiker murders in the area.I set off from there into the Dismal Creek lowlands, a labrytnh of creeks and rhododenron where the murders took place. The murderer had known the area well, and had taken back passages to sneak around the hikers and ambush them and escape afterwards. I was paranoid, and kept hearing sounds of ATVs or pickups through the woods. Or maybe it was just the creek. I was sweating heavily and took a bath in the stream, feeling like someone was watching me.Several miles later, I realized I'd left my map at the creek where I bathed. The map had all my scheduled stops starred, so I imagined the killer following my tracks and pciking up the map with a sick grin. Up the trail I stopped at Watipi Shelter, where some guy shot cans with a pellet gun and showed off his knife and machete. The other fellow there was named "Know-Nothing", because he didn't want to know anything new on the trail. I ate and moved on to Woods Hole Shelter.The sun set and my headlight flicked on. I was paranoid still as I approached Sugar Run Road, where the killer had crashed his car in escape. My light was dim and rocks difficult to hike on. I extinguished my light near the road and approached under the cover of darkness. Keep in mind, this road was a totally isolated forest road. At the clearing, my map lay on the ground. That's right: my lost map 10 miles ahead, right on the trail. The killer! He'd found my map, and taken a back road ahead of me! My heart stopped. he must be watching me. It was a half-mile down the road to Woods Hole Hostel, so I snatched the map and took of running. Immediatly, I saw a car parked facing towards me, lights off. This was it. He was waiting in the car for me. Instinctually, I darted to the left and charged the car with my hiking poles out to stab. But the car was empty. Still on edge, I took off running again down the road. Headlights beamed around the bend, so flicked off my light and crashed down into a ravine. The car drove by. I remounted the road and took off running again. Soon I saw lights and ran up to the hostel. A bonfire was burning and hikers gathered around it. I was sweating and out of breath. My feet pounded. Someone brought me a beer and sat down. In a minute, the car came back down and pulled into the driveway. The owner got out. She'd come up to fetch me from the trailhead, and I apologized. "I'd of dived off the road too!," he said. BY the way, that beer was a high of the day.
Date: 2010-04-03
From: Woods Hole Hostel

To: A cabin (Pearisburg, VA)
Miles today: 10.0
Weather: overcast clouds

Highs: Seeing my FAMILY! They met me on the trail down from Angel's Rest, the lookout above Pearisburg. From up the trail, I heard their voices down below. That was the high of my day. I ran down full tilt, crashing with a sweaty hug into my little sister. We laughed and yipped. Then I ran down to my mother and tried not to cry with joy. I didn't understand why I wanted to cry, but then again I don't really understand alot about myself. I hugged my Dad, and we all sat down for lunch on the trail. I was ontop of the world.Later that night we played memory with Dawson, Corey and Morgan, had an awesome conversation about grandparents over my Mom's spaghetti dinner, and watched everyone go to bed. I stayed up to sort out food and pack. The soft bed that night was awesome.Lows: Everything up to meeting my family on the trail sucked. My feet pounded with pain and I groaned aloud. I tried to be happy becuase my family was waiting ahead, but I just couldn't muster up a smile. I imagined seeing them and saying, "Hold on guys, I just need to keep hiking and get this over with," then hiking on to the bottom. It was very painful. Also, having to divy up my next week's provisions that night sucked, because it was a stressful task that ate of precious time with my family.
Date: 2010-04-04
From: A cabin (Pearisburg, VA)

To: Rendezevous Motel (Pearisburg, VA)
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: broken clouds

Highs: My mother and I woke up early and we hung out together in the cabin kitchen. I love that time with my Mom. She made a huge breakfast of pancakes, eggs and bacon. We packed up and left the cabin and drove into Pearisburg to do some shopping. My Dad and I did a small section of hiking and my Mom and sister staked out a cool spot for lunch. We all went to the New River boat landing and lunched by the river under the bridge. It was cool there in the shade with a light breeze. It was like heaven. Everything I wanted in life was there, it seemed, sitting by the river. We threw skipped rocks and talked about nothing at all. I wish I was back there right now.Lows: Saying goodbye at the motel sucked. It ached my heart like leaving Springer all over again, and there was nothing I could do about it. That's a funny feeling, waving off the car and closing the motel door on something you desire with all your heart. It ached like love lost. I turned on the TV to take my mind off it all, and flicked to a murder scene in a horror flick. That unsettled me even more. That night sucked.
Date: 2010-04-05
From: Rendezevous Motel (Pearisburg, VA)

To: Bailey Gap Shelter
Miles today: 23.2
Weather: broken clouds

Highs: My high was hiking in a crazy thunderstorm that night. The lightening exploded over my head in the darkness, thunder matching flash. The air smelled rich and metallic, which exhilerated me. After coving 20-some miles, it was a invigorating ending to a painful day. I got lost and heard voices as the storm cleared, so I called out, "HELLO!". I saw flashlights ahead. The shelter! "Is that Uncle Frank?," said a voice. It was TwoCan, the guy who had given me the beer at Woods Hole. Another high was sleeping at the shelter on the sunny bald and dreaming of home.Lows: I left the motel and called my Mother, which made me feel like crap. I missed home so much and didn't know what to do. The first half of the day was painful inside and out.
Date: 2010-04-07
From: Niday Shelter

To: Campbell Shelter
Miles today: 27.1
Weather: clear sky

 High: Today's high was probably seeing a pretty girl on her way up to Dragon's Tooth, south of Catawba. She was with another VT student, a lean guy who would probably be good at ultimate frisbee. She, herself, was fit and strong, also probably good at frisbee. Both were really nice and kind of glowed, balanced in that they didn't give off any more light than they were willing to take in. I chatted with them for 5 maybe 10 minutes then moved on, but their fresh spirit stayed wit me. I had been feeling pretty low. As I descended I could see them on top of the Tooth. "Thank You." I wanted to yell. I moved along quietly. At the gap I walked down to the store to buy a can of Mountain Dew and a 25 cent pack of gum. Near dusk I moved on. I passed a girl in her late twenties by the creek. She'd stopped for the last night of her first camping trip ever, a five day trek. I admired her courage. Being out in the woods in scary, even for a seasoned hiker like myself. She said she wanted to hike the AT one day. I told her firmly that she could.Darkness wore on from there, by the creek, across the pasture and into the woods. I felt alright, alright enough to keep up a steady 3 mph pace. The next shelter was 8 miles away. I got to the road at 9:30. It was a usy road, loud and mean in the night. This area was a popular local hang-out, so already I was on edge. the random shootings along the Blue Ridge Parkway - I'd seen on the newspaper at the store - were fresh on my mind, adding to the tension. Just before crossing, I heard a sound in the woods by the road. It was louder than a deer and quicker than a bear, and immediately I decided it was a human. And not just a human: a crazed killer waited to murder night-hikers. I flicked off my flashlight and waited. The sound stopped. I took off running, across the road and back in to the woods. He's following me, I said to myself. He's gonna follow me to the next shelter. I hoofed quickly to the shelter a mile in , hoping to find it packed with hikers. It was empty. Dead quiet. I quickly moved on the next shelter, another mile in. I heard a single gunshot on the way: the killer had arrived at the first shelter to murder me and shot the wall in frustration when he found it empty. The next shelter was empty, too. On to the next shelter, 2.5 miles away. On the way, I heard another gunshot meaning the killer had arrived at the second shelter.At McAfee Knob, just before the third shelter, I could see Roanoke glowing, the valley like gold glittering on the ocean floor. An incredible view. I awaited an ambush from the killer, who'd taken the fire road and beat me to the top. At the third shelter, I found two kids sleeping in a tent and felt like I'd beat the killer. I was out of range. I ate some cold oatmeal and went to sleep. It was 12:15am.
Date: 2010-04-08
From: Campbell Shelter

To: Travelodge Motel (Daleville, VA)
Miles today: 17.0
Weather: broken clouds

Gnats buzzed in my hair when I awoke. It was only 6:45am, but with the sunrise came heat and bugs so I couldn't sleep. I talked with the kids in the tent as I packed up, and I was on the trail by 7:30. It was a hot, hot day, and my feet were in alot of pain. By the time I got to Lambert's Meadow Shelter, I was ready for a long break. I drank from the stream and washed my body, then took a long nap in the shelter shade. I soaked my shirt and bandana and drapped them over my chest and head, put on my long pants, and went to sleep bug-proofed. I woke up to a dad and his kids arriving from the north. They were two smart kids with a good strong dad who was trying to make them as strong as he. And he was doing a fine job. I told them I was out of food and he accused me of yogi-ing. I retorted, "If I was yogi-ing, I'd be alot smoother than that." What I meant to say was that if I'm yogi-ing I'd ask you straight up for food.Clouds covered the sun and I moved on at noon for Daleville, 9 miles away. the hike flew by and the hunger wasn't as bad as the foot pain. By the last mile, I was in so much pain. My four blisters were on fire and my foot pads bruised. I hobbled off the trail to a convenience store to buy a gatorade, then hobbled to the Outfitter to use the computer, then hobbled to the the Three Little Pigs BBQ for dinner. The meal was amazing - fried onion strips and buffalo chips with a big mound of both the tomato and vinegar BBQ and a 1/2 pint of Magic Hat Lager. The BEST meal since the steak with Dad, and the best BBQ ever. I hung at the Outfitter for almost four hours after, reading and writing and chatting with the manager, while rain pounded outside. My mom called their phone and we coordinated Dawson, Caleb and Michael's visit. It was still pouring rain at closing time, so I bribed a ride to the motel from the employee wit ha 6-pack of Miller Lite.That night I wrote and showered and ate three apples.