morvasaaty/AppalachianTrail-LD-Hikers-Blogs-and-Weather-20-years huggingface dataset:
Date: 2003-09-05
From: Mizpah Springs Hut

To: Lakes of the Clouds Hut
Miles today: 4.8
Weather: light rain

The main topic of conversation among all hikers is "what's the weather gonna be like on the day I climb Mt. Washington?" The storm that blew thru 2 nites before should ensure at least one nice day before the next squall line brings zero visibility in the clouds, or worse, as we summit Mt. Washington. Most of the northbound thru hikers can make it from Mizpah Hut over Washington and on to Madison in only a single day. Texas Jack just isn't up to that. However...if Jack just makes it to Lakes of the Clouds Hut and stages there tonight...hmmmm. The five miles to Lakes Hut is cold, gusty, and intermittently socked in with cloud cover as I make my way up and over Mt. Clinton and Mt. Franklin. Occasionally, the clouds open up to show everyone a peek at the spectacular top-o-the-world vistas that this section of the Trail is famous for. These views are what all the day hikers and section hikers spend their money to come see! But all I get is gusting winds and driving, patchy fog up and over the knife-edged path to the next hut. I've heard many thru hikers comment that the day they did Mt. Washington they had only 20 yd. visibility. I remember it was like that for me when Grampie and I had come across Max Patch in a "Hound of the Baskervilles" fog! I had to work for stay at Lakes Hut, as there were NO, repeat NO open bunks this nite. I mean, they were booked solid! There was no way I could buy my way in, so my only option was work for stay. Well, at least I arrived early in the day. Good thing, because not long after I got there, the weather shut the door. I mean it got cold! Then it got windy! Then the fog came in and chilled folks to the bone. No one was trying to go on over the top of Mt. Washington in THOSE conditions.There were more than 100 people spending the nite at Lakes this nite. Even "The Dungeon" was full and I was glad to sleep on dining room tables while the wind howled and the fog soaked everyone who ventured outside.
Date: 2003-09-06
From: Lakes of the Clouds Hut

To: Madison Springs Hut
Miles today: 7.0
Weather: mist

God Bless America! The sun comes up and it's a blue-bird day! Winds calm to mild. Sky absolutely clear except for skittering cloud-lets occasionally scampering by. It's beautiful, and Mt. Washington rises above Lakes Hut like an enormous "Pyramid to the Sky".   The Trail is marked, the sun is warm. The hikers from Lakes Hut disappear ahead of me up the slopes of Mt. Washington. The buildings of the railroad station and weather observatory bristle with antenna like toothpicks in a cherry atop a magnificent ice-cream-sundae and we, the hikers, string out like tiny ants in the distance approaching the summit. You could not ask for a finer, more picturesque day. I call Carol and my Mother from the railroad station up top. The question of "What can I expect from Mt. Washington?" has been answered. There are tears of joy in my eyes as I make my way down the slope toward Madison Springs Hut. The funny "cog-railway train" toots me a cheery whistle as I seal forever these memories in my mind. I drink a toast of blackberry brandy that I've been saving...one for Grampie, one for me.Five hours later, I am climbing slowly down to Madison Hut. This is a nice bunch, and not nearly as crowded or up-tight as the Lakes crew. They are serving lima bean soup for $1.00 this afternoon. All you can eat. I take 'em up on their kind offer, and opt to pay $10.00 to sleep on a table in the dining room again.That wasn't bad at all. The crew-master offers to let me work for stay at Madison, but the Lakes crew sorta hurt my feelings. They worked my butt off. I told 'em "Thanks, but I'll just sleep on the table for $10 please." So they said ok and I loaded up on lima bean soup. Mmm-good! There were about six of us sleeping on the tables that nite.
Date: 2003-09-07
From: Madison Springs Hut

To: Hiker's Paradise, Gorham, N.H.
Miles today: 7.8
Weather: clear sky

The wind generator mounted on the gable of the Madison Hut has howled like a demented ghost all nite. I hope they get a lot of electricity from that thing in order to make up for the aggravation it causes. The wind is still gusting as I hike away from Madison Hut this morning. "Away" means to climb Mt. Madison which is right outside Madison Hut's back door. I had not payed to eat breakfast at the hut this morning, so am looking for a sheltered spot to brew up some coffee, and have my own breakfast. But first, find a sheltered spot. Two hours later, am safely over the top and have the stove out and some instant coffee on. Some powdered milk and Trix cereal in a protected niche. I ask a passing hiker to snap a shot of Texas Jack on Mt. Madison (the day after Mt. Washington). It felt good, it looked good, and I was glad I was there.I was glad Mt. Washington was behind me because I am really starting to get tired of the constant struggle. Four and five miles per day isn't getting this done very fast. This is hard. I am glad I'm doing it, but this is hard. I'm starting to look forward to being done. Every 2 or 3 days I sit down and figure out "how many more miles before Texas Jack is done with this?" It's down to less than 220 mi. to go, but it's the hardest part of the whole A.T.   Mt. Washington is bagged, but the Wildcats and Mahoosic Notch still lay ahead.The tips to my hiking poles are completely rounded off. Yes, I know. I got new tips from Leki at Trail Days. No matter, I need new tips. I depend on my poles for almost every step. Other hikers have told me I can buy tips at Pinkham Notch Camp. Sure enough. New tips, a cafeteria-style lunch, and a shuttle to the nearest town to resupply and get a shower and motel for a day or two. Also, I need mending on my leggings (called "gaiters"). Besides, I could use a good meal and a motel bed 'cause I've been out here since N. Woodstock and Kinsman Notch. Seems like a long time. Bruno, from Hiker's Paradise in Gorham, N.H., is who shows up to shuttle me into town. Bruno is a stiff-backed Polish type who seems to have a lot of rules about who stays and what they need to do at Hiker's Paradise. His wife is a quiet type who seems a bit overwhelmed with running a motel and a hiker B and B. Neither of them is particularly friendly, but I'm already there and the place is clean and reasonably priced. With the laundry going and a fresh shower, I perk right up. Tomorrow I'll get the gaiters re-sewn, send stuff from the post office, & resupply for the hike across the Wildcats. A walk to the local Quickie-Mart gets my dinner and a 2 liter Mtn. Dew that'll do me til I wake up.
Date: 2003-09-08
From: Hiker's Paradise, Gorham, N.H.

To: Hiker's Paradise, Gorham, N.H.
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: clear sky

Good morning world! One of the nice things about staying in the Hiker's Paradise motel is that a modest breakfast is included in the price. Nothing fancy, eggs, toast and coffee at the attached diner. This looks good to me, but I choose the upgrade. Three eggs, homefries and the "flannel hash". Now for those of us from Texas, it's hard to understand the appeal of regional items like Scrapple and flannel hash, but I already found out over at The Garlic Clove at Hikers Welcome in Glencliff that hash is considered a basic food group up here in Yankee-land and that it's not all created equal! (Sorta like chili). Well, they will leap from the rooftops to get to flannel hash and this place serves it. It's good stuff (except the cook doesn't know welldone eggs from overeasy eggs). No biggie. It's good stuff, and I'm off to the Post Office. Also, get more Blackberry Brandy. (Am developing a taste for this stuff). Gots to hop a shuttle bus over to the adjacent community of Berlin in order to get a shoe repair place to restitch the gaiters. I go to the food mart while I'm there and yak to the bus driver all the way back to Gorham. (He's transplanted from California and loves it in New Hampshire).I am in good shape to begin my trek through the Wildcats. I am boiling a pan of water at the bed and breakfast when the "cook" starts showing me that Bruno has authorized him to enforce the hiker regulations hereabouts. Things go downhill in a hurry from this point and I go back to my motel room before we come to blows. Another trip to the Quickie-Mart and I'm in for the night.
Date: 2003-09-09
From: Pinkham Notch Camp

To: Carter Notch Hut
Miles today: 5.9
Weather: mist

So, in the morning, I'm back in the diner for the free breakfast that I've already paid for and the cook wants to continue letting me know who wields the authority at the Hikers Paradise. I let him know that, as soon as I finished my breakfast, "I was leaving, I wasn't coming back and I'd never have to listen to the sound of his voice again!" This may not have been what Bruno had in mind when he empowered this jerk to act and speak in his name. Later, I heard that Bruno fired the guy, but at this point, I hit the road about a millisecond before they asked me to leave. Fortunately, Mala, a Trail Angel and shuttle driver, volunteered to drop me off back at Pinkham Notch, and, as I was ready to go anyway, I took him up on it. Within 45 minutes, I am hiking again. Later, I heard that Hikers Paradise asked Baltimore Jack to leave for the exact same reasons that I left. (I can't abide jerks who want me to know who's boss). At least, those were my reasons.Had already made my way across peaks "A", "B" and "C" when I met the most charming couple from Florida. They were newly weds, Pam and Lee St. Mary, who met at Lake Como Nudist Resort and now teach ballroom dancing to nudist groups around the country. They are charming and I promised to look them up when I get down Florida-way.The hiking is tough, lots of sharp ups and brutal downs. Carter Notch Hut is booked solid with church summer campers. Once again, "no room at the inn". I get no bed, but some free lemonade, and continue on a bit to a secluded campsite, along the Trail, just outside of the "No Camping Zone." A few hikers pass, and the sounds of young campers yodeling to hear the echos put a smile on my face. (Carter Notch makes for great echos). It's a clear, crisp nite. Thank you, Lord! A fine dinner of sandwich fixin's from town and I'm down for the nite.
Date: 2003-09-10
From: Carter Notch Hut

To: Imp Campsite
Miles today: 7.2

Breakfast is hot instant coffee and more sandwiches. Good stuff! Then its up and across Carter Dome. As I cross the summit, I meet some locals who are out for the day. "How do you feel?" one man asks. "Wanna quit!" is my answer. "Everyone who hikes this far feels that way," he laughs. "You're almost done" I hear, as I limp into the distance.Then, rats! Double rats! I fall. It's a real deep step down, am tired, who knows? I fall and break a stick. Am ok, but can't climb with only one stick. Rats! Not these rocks. I can't even hike with only one stick. (Throws my balance off). So I pick up a branch just so the cadence will be right. Am tired and slow. I camp alongside the Trail in a spot that would be a big puddle if it rains, but am betting it won't rain. Imp Campsite is less than a mile away, but I'm done for the day. The last of the sandwich fixins and instant coffee are my fare. A small front blows thru this nite, but no rain.
Date: 2003-09-11
From: Imp Campsite

To: Gorham, N.H.
Miles today: 8.0
Weather: mist

Finished off all of the water last evening. No coffee this morning until I find some more. A small spring on the way to Imp Campsite and am fixed up. The Imp caretaker and I swap stories of the Trail while I have tea and candy bars. Lots of the folks who passed me have stopped here, and I get a kick out of reading the shelter register to see what Slickrock, Ketchup, Aloha Ann, Don Quixote, T-Bird and all the rest have to say. The caretaker has no one else to annoy, so I guess it's my turn. He's nice enough, though, and has lots of hiker stories to share. The big blurb is the "Turf War" in Gorham between Hiker's Paradise and The Barn. Well, I can't go back to Paradise, so am headed to The Barn to get more sandwiches and to fix my broken hiking pole. I hope. Don't want to have to buy a new pair. Will see what can be done, but have to do the eight miles across Mt. Moriah in order to get back to town. What the heck...there's a blue-blaze trail that will get me to the stick-fixin' place so I take it. By four that afternoon I've caught a ride back into Gorham. Am dropped off in front of The Barn and Happy Days! Here's Lion King. Also, Baltimore Jack! T-Bird wanders thru. Mala stops by. I get my butt kicked on the chess board by Scavenger. This is a great place! It's plumb packed full of thru hikers. There's beer and burgers across the street. Wow! This is so much better than Hiker's Paradise it's not even close! And the best part is that the hardware store just happens to have an extra tube to fix my hiking stick. (Just replaced the broken section.) Can't beat that.Baltimore Jack is on his way to the Chinese Buffet and four or five of us go along. This is a GREAT end to a not-so-good-beginning day. The absolute capper is when the ATM spits out $200.00 in cash, (just like it's supposed to) on the walk back to The Barn from the AYCE buffet. You can't beat that! A nice shower and a loooong phone call to Texas from the pay phone by the road, wraps up this day.
Date: 2003-09-13
From: Trident Col Tentsite

To: New Hampshire-Maine Line
Miles today: 9.6

You know, it didn't rain last night, but you couldn't tell it. The tent and all the stuff was wet like a downpour, but was only heavy dew. Got my stuff out of the bear box. Hot coffee and more sandwiches (walked out of Gorham with a loaf of bread, lunchmeat, and cheese. The bread gets kind of squooshed, but you can still eat it!) The other hikers, mostly southbounders, leave before I do. By 9:30, I've finished with the outhouse, pumping water, and packing the tent. The weather is still bluebird perfect. Forrest melodys abound, everywhere are glacial ponds filled, not with fish, but tadpoles and newts, salamanders, and toads. Dream Lake and Moss Pond slip through the trees as I pass. Lunch finds me at Gentian Pond. The campsite register spills tales of the resident moose and the best time to see him. Floating vegetation at waters edge shows the moose to be a sloppy eater. I keep a sharp eye out as I fill the platypus yet again. Am having lunch at the shelter when Sexy Beast and Crazy Mary arrive up a blue-blazed trail carrying subs and hoagies from a deli somewhere. There were 3 or 4 others in the party and everyone looked forward to finally getting to Maine. Crazy Mary seemed to be well-named, but she liked my harmonica music, so we were friends that day. I was glad.The hike up Mt. Success was supposed to be tough. It was the last summit to be crossed before the state line. Slow as I am, there is no one else around 3 hours of hard climbing later. It's late in the day and getting dark when I finally give up on the idea of reaching State Line and try to find a place to spend the nite. I isn't vertical but it is steep. If it's not covered in rocks, it's covered in trees. I know I need glasses, but there's no flat ground for miles it seems. Finally, a not-too-steep little side trail presents itself and I tie off the tent. It's not really a trail, it's a side drain off the A.T. and it's a "if it doesn't rain, it'll be ok" kind of campsite. Dark as it was, and steep as it was, it looked like home to me. Hang the bear bag and look out for moose...Maine tomorrow!
Date: 2003-09-15
From: Full Goose Shelter

To: Speck Pond Campsite
Miles today: 5.1
Weather: clear sky

The weather this morning was semi-cruddy. Low hanging clouds and fog, scattered sprinkles, but I didn't think it was going to get any better. The forecast was for increasing showers. The weather wasn't great, but it wasn't horrible either.   The Trail from the shelter to the notch trail was nothing. I expected worse. The "Notch" itself is only about l 1/2 miles, but they're JIM DANDYS.   For some reason, I didn't want to remove my pack in order to get thru the "Notch" (you always see pictures of everyone else crawling through those little bitty holes under and through the gigantic boulders. Well, contrarian that I am, I wasn't gonna do my hike like that!) No siree bobtail! Texas Jack wasn't gonna take off his pack for any stinkin' Mahoosuc Notch scuttle hole. Hell no! So I crawled over and around every single thing until I got to the one thing that I couldn't get around or over, so, with a sheepish grin, I hauled my butt through the crevasse like everyone else...but I didn't break anything either and the climb out of the notch and up the Mahoosuc Arm lived up to it's advance billing as a butt-kicker! Anyone who's done the "Arm" will attest to that, Texas Jack included! I didn't even care that Speck Pond Campsite was a pay site. The weather was turning crappy. I had just had my butt handed to me and I wasn't about to hike anywhere in the rain. Color me finished for the day. Another big pot of mac and cheese with tuna, and I'm playing my harp for Glacier and Sun Dance. There were a couple more, too. I was dry, but several others walked in out of the rain. One girl who had fallen down a lot, cried and pleaded with her boyfriend to stop at the shelter out of the rain. (He was one of those "gung-ho, don't stop for anything" types.) They were southbound and we made room for them in the shelter that night.
Date: 2003-09-18
From: South Arm Road

To: Andover, ME.
Miles today: 10.1
Weather: overcast clouds

Had another breakfast that couldn't be beat, borrowed one of Paul's sticks and got hauled out and dropped off at South Arm Road. Gonna ford Black Brook and slack 10 mi. south back to Andover today. Except for the metal rungs sunk into a few of the rock faces on Wyman Mtn., this day was a cakewalk. Once I get over the summit, it's an 8 mile stroll back down the easy face. (Due to glacial action, all the peaks have an easy side and the much steeper hard side.) Today, I climbed the hard side first, and the easy side really was. As a southbounder, I pass Dirty Little Barn Monkey, Glacier, Mala's bunch, and a Japanese guy out gathering mushrooms. Also, perhaps 10 more whose names I do not know. Am feeling pretty good and nothing bad happens. Paul is waiting for me at the road (no lemonade) and I'm there a bit early.Tomorrow a.m. he will haul me out to where I started from this morning and I'll be on my own, nobo to Rangely again. Have to get groceries this afternoon, do laundry, find another hiking stick. But first, I have to sample the wonderful apples growing out behind Pine Ellis. Am hanging up the wash, when I notice the apple trees. They're loaded. A few bugs, but sweet and juicy. Lene tells me to take all I want. Am wandering around the back yard, stuffing my face with apples, when I find a single ski pole. Just one. It's not a hiking pole, but Paul tells me that I can have it. I knock the ski part off and put the hiking tip from my broken pole on. That'll work!Things are looking up. That nite I move out of the private room and into the bunk room to save a few bucks. Four or five new faces show up at Pine Ellis. Word gets around. Good place, hope they do well. I like the place so much, I've immortalized my sentiments in the Hall Mtn. Lean-To this afternoon...something like horray for "Pine Ellis" and poo on "The Cabin". This comes back to haunt me later, but for now, this day is done.
Date: 2003-09-19
From: Andover, ME.

To: Bemis Range West Peak
Miles today: 11.5
Weather: overcast clouds

It's a wonderful day in the neighborhood, but a front is moving in. No telling how far I can get today. I'm the slowest one, so there are still 8-10 hikers staging on South Arm Road when Paul drops me off. I start up. And I do mean up! Old Blue Mt. is up there ahead. And up and up. I've had a couple of easy days, but Old Blue just keeps coming.Have made it over the top and am on the downhill side when the storm hits. Big fat raindrops, wind, lightening. Was trying to make it to the lean-to, but no way. Once more, there's no flat ground to be found. I do the best I can in a worsening situation. Mostly, I worry that one of the many falling branches or trees will land on my tent, but luck is with me. All the branches and most of the water stay on the outside. Didn't hang the bear bag, either. So was glad that no hungry bears came sniffing around this nite.
Date: 2003-09-20
From: Bemis Range West Peak

To: Hwy. 17, Oquossoc, ME.
Miles today: 1.8

What can I say? Cold, wet, foggy in the morning. I get a late start and am wading down the Trail and hopping from bog bridge to bog bridge in order to get to the next lean-to. A British nurse name of Two Dogs passes sobo. Mud Elephant (a fellow Texas) is at the shelter. Have fallen twice to get here when I realize that I've forgotten to get cooking alcohol in Andover. Rats! Am having my breakfast coffee for lunch at the lean-to when Baltimore Jack and friend show up, and in typical Baltimore Jack fashion, he starts in on me for my published remarks in the Hall Mtn. Lean-to register regarding how much better Pine Ellis is than the Cabin. I've had a tough nite and am in no mood to be lectured, so I get loud back a little bit. Jack figures he's made his point, and off he goes nobo. It's all good natured, and it IS true that I've never stayed at the Cabin, so technically he's right. I DON'T know that Pine Ellis is better, but if the Cabin people are any better than Paul and Lene, then they must be walkin' around with wings and halos I tell you for sure!Am thinking about just staying put for the nite at the lean-to, but it's early and Mala told me he was having a hurricane party in the campground next to Maine 17, another 5 miles. That's not so bad, and I need cooking alcohol, too. Guess I'll try to hook up with his bunch this afternoon. They all passed me yesterday, but they may still be camped out. The only thing that slows me down is having to ford (wade thru) Bemis Stream. After the rain last nite, it's a bit swollen. Not too bad, but no meandering brook either. It takes about 45 min. to sit down, strip down, set up, wade across, sit down, dry off, set back up and be hiking again. Mala's not there. No one is there when I climb up onto Maine Hwy 17. Well, I still need alcohol, so I stick out my thumb. Only a few cars have passed when I get picked up by a Toyota with kayaks tied on. They are locals out to run the rapids this afternoon and would the town of Rangely be ok? You bet! There's another B-and-B name of Gull Pond that will slack me out of Rangely. God bless these Maine folks. This really is "the way life should be". The kayakers drop me off at Rangely in front of the Red Onion. A quick phone call to Bob O'Brian at Gull Pond and I'm in the tender care of another B-and-B. Bob is an interesting guy who runs Gull Pond. To stay young (and to keep from being bored), he spends more time and money on hikers than he brings in. I think he does it 'cause he loves it, and I thank him for his hospitality more than I can say.Bob is chock full of Moose stories, and Maine stories, and "Look moose me gun tick" stories and I am fortunate to be in for the nite once more.