morvasaaty/AppalachianTrail-LD-Hikers-Blogs-and-Weather-20-years huggingface dataset:
Date: 2017-04-13
From: Clyde Smith Shelter 

To: Doll Flats
Miles today: 21.8
Weather: scattered clouds

You see so much when you travel 21 miles on foot. Initially today's itinerary was to stop at Overmountain shelter, a converted barn that sleeps 20. Our path took us over Roan Mt., another 6000 footer. I started off ahead of Scotty, as I tend to have my most energy at the start of the day, during the cool of the morning. Lunch consisting of tuna and cheese on a tortilla was served at the Roan Mt. shelter, said to be the highest shelter on the AT. This building had a door and windows, quite elaborate as shelters go. Met a father (King James), two sons, two daughters, and their dog Moja at the shelter. Mom was missing. They inquired about her, but I said I had not passed her. I later saw her waiting for them at a parking lot about 2 miles down the trail. She had missed the turnoff to the shelter. Easy to do, as the sign was none too large.It was another fine day for hiking, warm and sunny, and I was in rare form. I arrived at the Overmountain before 3 p.m., too early to stop for the day, and pushed on though i had already traveled over 15 miles. The toughest was yet to come. Ahead of me were two massive grassy bald mountains called Hump and Big Hump. The general direction was up. It took me an hour to climb Hump and 90 minutes to climb Big Hump. But the views from atop made the profusive sweating worth it.My new objective was Doll Flats, a campsite at the TN-NC border. The descent carried me over a open ridge with vistas in every direction. It was heavenly. To top it off, later four deer dashed down a wooded hill in front of me. Their thrashing through leaves and bushes made me aware of their presence, otherwise I might have missed them.Doll Flats turned out to be an idyllic campsite, an open grassy meadow nestled among mountains. True to its name, the area was flat, well suited for pitching a tent. I polished off dinner just as the sun set, shortly after 8 p.m., took an AdvilPM, and settled in for another restless night of sleep. As the proverb says, there is no rest for the wicked.
Date: 2017-04-14
From: Doll Flats

To: stealth site 
Miles today: 19.7
Weather: broken clouds

Passed the 400 mile mark today, Good Friday, another milestone reached. It's hard to fathom I've walked this far. It's harder to imagine I've got 1800 to go. So I don't think that far ahead.The weather was pristine, sunny, warm. I walked in shortsleeves. A brownish-green snake or a greenish-brown snake crossed my path and scurried away before I could photograph it. Probably was a King Cobra.A highlight of today's hike was walking along the Elk River, a quick moving, wide, shallow, and sandy-bottom flow with grassy islands, and coming upon the number 400 fashioned in twigs on the ground, commemorating the passing of the milestone. Today's title relates to the call of the screech owl often heard at night or in the early morn. The cry sounds like the owl is asking "who cooks for you?" In my recent past, the simple answer was that Diane, my better half, cooks for me. But now I cook for myself. Every morning I boil a cup of water and pour it into a bowl containing two packets of oatmeal, and in the evening I bowl two cups of water and pour it into a packet of dehydrated chicken and rice. I've totally mastered this cooking thing.
Date: 2017-04-16
From: Boots Off Hostel

To: TN91
Miles today: 20.6
Weather: scattered clouds

I push hard today because there remains 40 miles to reach Damascus. It's Easter Sunday. The good weather keeps coming, another warm day, and, importantly, no rain. The trail from the Boots Off hostel follows Shook Branch Rd to Watauga Lake and then along its shoreline. I pass Watauga Shelter, which is closed because of bear activity. Rumor has it a hiker staying at the shelter rubbed coconut oil on his body before tucking in for the night and later discovered he had become the center of a bear's attention. Note to self, use coconut oil in hotel room only.The trail takes me to Watauga Dam, a small earthen road perhaps 3 car lanes wide and 0.3 mIles long. On one side is the lake, on the other a vertigo inducing droppoff. The lake is enormous and stretches for miles, and I am surprised how such a little dam holds the entire thing in place.As I cross the dam, 8track catches up to me. This is a shock because I thought he was at least a day ahead of me based on the dates he signs in the shelter registries. Turns out he's got the date wrong, signing one day earlier than the actual date. Easy mistake to make. One loses track of dates and days of the week out here.He gives me a breakfast burrito, made by his wife. She's providing trail magic at Watauga Lake. He suggests I slack pack on the day into Damascus, namely tomorrow. I'm reluctant, but when he explains the logistics, that his wife is driving a mobile home and will bring the bulk of my pack's contents to the town and have them waiting for me, I am sold. We part ways because he is currently slack packing and moving twice my speed.I find today's hiking tough going. The first half of the day involves a steady climb. My legs resist I suppose because of yesterday's ascent of the monstrous Pond Mt. I trudge on in a stupor and almost step on a hideous four-foot long black snake resting motionless on the side of the trail. I take a few photos for later identification. (I'm told it's a rat snake.)At 6 p.m., after 10.5 hours of hiking, I reach TN91, a roadway, and I see Mrs. 8Track's mobile home parked in a gravel turnout. I'm very happy. 8Track, Dance, and Batman are sitting inside, slamming down cold drinks. Mrs. 8Track is cooking a hiker's feast: cheese covered potatoes, chicken, beef, yams. I eat until my eyes are bulging. I also drink 2 Cokes in less than 30 minutes. I rarely drink soda, now I'm a soda fiend.When I cannot eat another morsel, I bid Mr. and Mrs. 8Track good night and set up my tent about 100 yards from the mobile home. Tomorrow I will join them for breakfast before starting the 21 mile haul into town.
Date: 2017-04-17
From: TN91

To: Damascus 
Miles today: 21.7
Weather: scattered clouds

I am slack packing today, meaning that I am trimming the contents of my pack to one day's necessities, food and water for a day, and toilet paper. The remainder of my pack, which includes my sleeping bag, tent, and stove, I leave with Mrs. 8Track. My pack weighs about 10 pounds, tops. I feel like I can fly. Mrs. 8Track feeds me an astonishing breakfast of bacon, eggs, and french toast. 8Track accompanies me, taking the lead.The winning streak of good weather ends today. About 10 a.m. sprinkles come followed by a steady downpour. A thick fog rolls into the trees. Cannot see far ahead. Nothing to do but dress up in rain gear and push through.The terrain is the easiest I've seen since the start of this journey, relatively flat for miles, broken up by an occasional rolling up and down. We make good time in the lousy weather.Early afternoon the rain stops. We cross into Virginia, our fourth and biggest state. There are over 500 AT miles in VA, so it will be some time before I see my fifth.At 4:40 p.m., we enter Damascus, taking only 9 hours to cover almost 22 miles. Diane's not expected in town until 5:30, so we stop at Bobo MacFarland's for refreshments and potato skins.Afterwards, I retrieve my things from the mobile home and they drive me a great distance - 0.2 miles - to the Dancing Bear B&B, where I expect to find Diane. Her car is there, but she's gone out for a walk. Our reunion is delayed. I search for her and later see her walking down Main street towards me. My smile is from ear to ear. I missed her terribly. After some "pda", rated G, I assure you, we spent the evening catching up, meeting my new trail friends, and, of course, eating. A great day!
Date: 2017-04-18
From: Damascus 

To: Damascus 
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: light rain

The weather wasn't particularly nice, overcast, cool, occasional showers, so we nixed the idea of biking the Creeper Trail, and instead drove to Grayson Highlands to see the wild ponies. I drove for the first time in 7 weeks, the road (Rte 58) was windy, with many hairpin turns, and both Diane and I were nauseous within 10 minutes. We pulled over several times onto narrow shoulders to regain our composure. The drive to the park was worth it. We walked the Rhododendron Trail, named after the omnipresent weed that grows from Georgia to Virginia, and I presume even further north, and didn't see any ponies. Diane was bothered that her car sickness was for naught. Then we turned a corner, and ponies abounded. They were entirely unconcerned by our presence and continued eating as though we were not there. We saw a foal standing far off, motionless. It could not have been more than a week or two old.Having seen what we came for, we returned the way we came, and came upon four ponies abutting the path, three on one side, one on the opposite side. All had their heads down, eating, all had their rumps facing us and the trail. We had to pass between them. Concerned they might kick, I walked dead center down the path between them. Diane, however, chose to walk closer to the side with the one pony. Afterwards I asked her why she did that. "I'd rather get kicked by only one pony than by three," she replied. Genius!We returned to Damascus that afternoon, and went to Hey Joes to celebrate Scotty's 50th birthday. The Mexican restaurant was packed with thru-hikers. When we sang Happy Birthday, he turned crimson. I thought his head was going to pop a blood vessel. Among the celebrants was 8track and his wife Kathy, Little Cheese, Einstein, Dead Guy Ale, Da Vinci, and several more whose names elude me now.No AT miles today, but I was in my glory spending the day with Diane
Date: 2017-04-19
From: Damascus 

To: Stealth Site
Miles today: 7.0

Diane wanted to experience the trail, to hike at least a few miles that counted towards my AT total. So we hired a shuttle to drive us 15 miles north of Damascus on Rte. 58 and drop us off at an AT trailhead. We would travel southbound. The morning started rainy, and I was concerned we were going to have bad weather for our hike. But the skies cleared, and it turned into excellent conditions for the journey. Diane showed a remarkable amount of pep and took to the hills as she did in her backpacking days of old. (Many thanks to Wonder for loaning her the pack and sleeping bag.) A big moment was visiting Saunder Shelter, which had a nearby privy. The shelter offered an apt spot for lunch, and the privy was the source of endless conversation and laughter. She even took a photo of the delapidated toilet to show her friends in the civilized world.That eve we set up camp near a wide, fast moving stream, in which we soaked our tired feet, and a large footbridge that spanned the water. The bridge is part of the Creeper Trail, and we saw several bikers crossing it. Once sundown came, the bike traffic ceased. We ate a warm Mountain House meal, filtered water, hung a bear bag, and slept cozy in my 2 person, really 1.5 person, tent.
Date: 2017-04-20
From: Stealth Site

To: Damascus 
Miles today: 7.0
Weather: broken clouds

On the second day of our southbound tour, Diane and I shared a breakfast of hot oatmeal and a Little Debbie's honey bun. Never thought I'd eat one of those devilish pastries, but they pack a walloping 400 plus calories and are so, so sweet. Diane at first guffawed at the thought of eating the pre-diabetes morsel, but admitted it tasted darn good.Opposite yesterday, today started with dry skies, then in came a drizzle. By the time we reached the outskirts of Damascus, the drizzle had become steady rain. Since the AT trail took us past some food establishments, Diane persuaded me to stop for ice cream. The weather is never too bad for ice cream I've found. Besides, it was her reward for having walked 14 miles in two days.Two scoop marvels in our mitts, we sat under a covered porch and marveled at the rain, which now had become a torrential downpour. This only encouraged us to eat our cones even slower. But the trail doesn't walk itself, so we ventured out from our cover to find the rain had all but stopped. When we reached the center of town we saw over a half dozen state trooper autos, a few with flashing blue lights. Some were parked in front of our B&B. We could only wonder what our host was up to. So much commotion for such a little town. Turns out a funeral was in progress, being held for a local policeman who turned his own revolver on himself. Apparently things were not faring well in his professional and family life. We got the sordid details indirectly from the town barber. Tragic, really. Quite sad. When the funeral ended, traffic was at a standstill for about 15 minutes. There's only one road in and out of town, and everyone was on it.
Date: 2017-04-21
From: Damascus 

To: Thomas Knob Shelter
Miles today: 14.1
Weather: broken clouds

Time passes so quickly, and Diane is heading back to MA this morning. The thought flashes through my mind, how nice it'd be to go back with her. But I'm too far along to bail out now. And I know she wouldn't take me anyways. Before she goes, she drops me off at the trailhead where we started our southbound hike two days ago. I will resume my northbound journey from that point. It is raining again, the fifth consecutive day with some precipitation. This is getting tiresome. My raincoat has become my second skin, and gills are forming behind my ears.I disappear once more into the depths of the wilderness and into my circular thoughts. Since I've had so much time to think on the trail I've discovered I tend to think about the same few things ad nauseum. I try to force myself to think novel thoughts, but eventually I start thinking again about how many miles I have left to hike today and what time I expect to arrive at my planned destination. Today's destination is a shelter just north of Mt. Rogers, which is the biggie in VA. I pass by the blue blaze leading to its summit - the clouds are ominous and a drizzle is in the air. Chances are there is no view from atop anyway. The questionable weather leads me to stay in the shelter tonight. I'm joined by Little Cheese, Einstein, Pogo, and Tailgate. As dusk settles in, four ponies come to the shelter entrance. I'm sure they are up to no good, noticing they are paying keen attention to our bear bags hanging low nearby off hooks at the shelter's front. Tailgate bangs his poles together, shooing them away. They ignore him. It becomes dark. One pony stays, waiting us out. Luckily, I think, a troup of night hikers arrive at camp, with a dog. Surely they will drive the pony away. The pony ignores the dog; the dog ignores the pony. The pony stays. Then it starts to pour, and the pony runs for cover. I fall asleep fully expecting my bear bag of food to be missing come morning, or at least to find its contents on the ground, scattered and shredded. As I doze I realize, worst case, I could head into town at Massie Gap should I awaken to find myself a food pauper.
Date: 2017-04-24
From: Mt. Rogers Visitor Center 

To: Atkins, VA
Miles today: 11.4
Weather: light rain

Wishing you a happy birthday, son, from Marion, VA. I hope you liked your AT hiking starter kit. Wear that t-shirt in good health! Love, Pops.The forecast for today calls for more rain, but not as heavy as yesterday's. The region experienced flooding as more than two inches fell. Some schools are closed, others have a two hour delay. I call Marion Transit to bring several of us back to the Mt. Rogers Visitor Center, from where we fled the day before. This bus service charges only 50 cents. In contrast, yesterday we called a cab to drive us from the Visitor Center to Marion, and that cost 20 bucks.The terrain I face this day is relatively easy, though fog obscures the forests and the views. It is a chilly fog, and the occasional gusts bring cold drops from the treetops. The dank weather wears on me. We've had rain during some part of the day - and all day yesterday - for over a week now. Hoping to see the sun, any time now.We find the streams swollen from the rain. In many places, rushing water covers the trail, and I have to find another place to crossover, a place with enough stepping stones to reach the opposite bank. In one instance I cannot find a dry way across, so I remove my boots, gaiters, and socks to keep them dry, and stumbled through barefoot with my pant legs rolled up high. Not sure why I bothered, because my boots and socks become soaked further down the path by the deep water in the meadows through which I must walk.Little Cheese and Einstein and I take a room at the Relax Inn, a one-star gem with a laundry room. Laundry is important tonight as my pant legs are covered with mud past the knees. It's messy out there. In the evening we walk to the Barn for some "homemade" cooking. We suspect much of our meals came directly from cans. On a disappointing note, Scotty pulled me aside this morning to tell me he was leaving the trail. He says he can no longer deal with the boredom of seeing the same trees and rocks for hours and days. And he misses his missus and pooch. I will miss him. He has been great company.
Date: 2017-04-25
From: Atkins, VA

To: Lynn Creek Campsite
Miles today: 16.1

Little Cheese, Einstein and I have an outstanding breakfast of pancakes, bacon, sausage, eggs, and coffee at The Barn before heading back to the hills. Einstein tells me he got bedbug bites at the Relax Inn. My back starts to itch.  But I'm clean. Phew.The sky looks like it wants to rain, but it holds off, for now.  I pass a sign marking the quarter-way mark.  It's mind-boggling to think about, not only how far I've gone, but also how far I've yet to go.  Further down the trail we come upon a detour; the recent downpours have flooded a road that the trail passes over. The sign says "Don't make a bad decision trying to cross the flooded road."  Seems serious, so I take the blue blaze that circumvents the mess. The detour passes by the flood. Doesn't seem all that bad to me, but it would require removing my gaiters, boots, and socks to ford the water.  Too much work.  I'm not called El Vago for nothing.At 6 p.m., after a long day of marching, I find a campsite next to a bubbling creek, set up camp, and start dinner.  It starts to rain. Resigned, I retreat to my tent with my Mountain House chicken teriyaki and eat within the tent's vestibule. The dampness, rain, mud are wearing me down, as is the lack of cell service.  My tent, though, is my sanctuary.  Once inside I am at rest.
Date: 2017-04-26
From: Lynn Creek Campsite

To: Jenkins Shelter
Miles today: 18.7
Weather: clear sky

The morning starts foggy and drippy, and I begin to think rumors of a sunny day today are greatly exaggerated.  But the sun burns off the fog, and soon I am grumbling about the relentless heat and the long climb of Chestnut Knob.  The huffing is worth it, for at the top of this grassy bald is a stone shelter with a door.  I've heard the structure is older than the AT. There's also a clear view of farmland in a green valley far below.  This spot is perfect for removing my boots to let my feet breathe and for having lunch.  Soon flying and crawling insects swarm about me, attracted by the smell of my tuna tortilla or by the stench of my socks.  In either case, they are unwelcome guests.After lunch I resume my trek to Jenkins Shelter.  Coming towards me is a beautiful brown dog, followed close behind by a young man. The dog has long flowing hair like a golden retriever's, except it has chocolate lab coloring.  I say to the man, "That's a beautiful dog. What breed is it?"  He says, "I don't know."  "Oh, it's a mutt," I say, figuring the dog's lineage is an unknown jumble a genes.  "No," he says, "I don't know because it's not my dog. He came out of nowhere and started following me."  It has no collar. The animal starts paying an inordinate amount of attention to me, just as I notice the kid trying to slink quietly away.  "Well, he can't follow me," I say, turning my back on them both and quickstepping away. With relief I notice the dog has resumed walking with the kid. I cannot even imagine what I would have done with the stray. My water management is poor today. Today's heat surprises me, and I miss a good opportunity to refill at the Chestnut Knob shelter.  I ration what water I have to reach the Jenkins shelter, and I arrive thirsty.At the shelter I resupply my water and drink heartily. The night is comfortably warm; I don't need my bag.  I doze off to the call of the whiporwill.
Date: 2017-04-27
From: Jenkins Shelter

To: Helveys Mill Shelter
Miles today: 13.5
Weather: overcast clouds

Southern Virginia is gorgeous, its rolling hills and green valleys.  Farms abound.  I pass by several with horses or goats or cows.  I'm in the country now.My legs are telling me they are tired today.  I contemplate going into Bland, VA, and staying at a hostel, but I come upon the town too soon to stop for the day.  I push on for Helveys Mill Shelter and find myself racing against approaching rain. The last few days of rain have me psyched out, and I move as fast as I can to avoid getting wet. On my way I a most step on a snake that lays across the path.  I take its picture and then give it wide berth. After I pass it by, I realize I have lost my red bandana and turn about to see where I might have dropped it. But there's the snake, blocking my path.  I interpret this as a sign to let it go. Bandanas are cheap, whereas a snake bite is priceless.I arrive at the shelter in plenty of time and find it lightly occupied. Only Razorback, a section hiker from Georgia, has established squatter's rights inside. I lay claim to the opposite side of the shelter and put down my air mattress and sleeping bag.  I don't particularly enjoy setting up or breaking down a tent in the rain.Shortly before sunset, three others show up and find spots to lay their bags.  They are Corky, Breakfast, and Chernobyl.  Corky is from Atlanta and does not take kindly to New England Patriots fans.  He's still smarting and I'm still smiling over the miraculous end of the Superbowl.  Breakfast is a young man from PA, who carries 7 days of food for a 2 day stretch.  Chernobyl is a young gal from NJ, who has taken a shine to Breakfast.The rain comes, and I'm glad I'm dry and under cover.  The storm is short lived. The clouds disappear, leaving behind a spectacular starry night.  A peace settles over me.