Date: 2016-07-24
From: Old Forge Picnic Area

To: New York, California
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: broken clouds

Welcome! If you're looking for the start of my complete AT section hike, look for the 2015 tab on the blue bar to the left.If you're looking for the beginning of my 2016 AT journal, hit "first."If you're looking for my TEDxUCLA talk, it's here:TEDxUCLA Hike Your Own Hike -------------------------------------------------------------------Today is actually August 30, but I'm not sure if changing the date will mess up my stats on the site.I've waited a long time to finish this up - my apologies! Part of it was the flurry of activity, part of it was hanging on to the last vestiges of the trail and not wanting to admit to myself that it was over (at least, for now!).On my first night off trail, I noticed a Dr. Seuss quote on the wall of the kids' room where I was staying:"Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened."And maybe that sounds cheesy, but it's really what I needed. Post-trail depression is real. If I feel this way after just 6 weeks of hiking, I can't imagine what it must feel like for the thru-hikers. The first morning I woke up at Gish's house, I walked in and the TV was on to Fox News. I felt assaulted by all the bad news - the political coverage, the bombings and attacks that had happened all summer. It was the beginning of me realizing just how much had happened in the world while I'd been in the woods.Mrs. Gish made the best breakfast I'd had in ages, then Gish whisked me off to the train station, where I caught the Amtrak (ironblazing!) to Rhinecliff, NY for a writing workshop with cartoonist Lynda Barry. I got to Rhinebeck, home of the Omega Institute, which funny enough offers tenting as its cheapest form of accommodation. My tiny ultralight backpacker's tent was utterly dwarfed by these enormous car-camping monstrosities that everyone else was staying in. I easily could have pitched my tent INSIDE of one of theirs. Everything felt weird. How easy it was to shower. To eat. To set up a tent...and leave it there for 5 days. I signed up for meditation. I took a trapeze lesson (because why not? My body was as fit and singing with energy thanks to 6 weeks of hiking). I tried to adjust to suddenly being surrounded by people. I kept wearing my hiking bandanna, holding onto the last vestiges of the trail, the re-wilding process. Everyone else was at the retreat to get back to nature, but it was a step back into civilization for me. I wrote a lot. I tried not to be "that person" who constantly talks about one thing. But all I could think about was coming off the trail.When the workshop finished, I caught a bus back down to New York City, where I had a night (which became 3, thanks to my flight being cancelled) before returning to LA.Thank god I'd had 5 days at Omega before hitting Grand Central station. Walking around New York City in my trail runners and pack....that was really surreal. Anyway, if you're curious about how my Hamilton obsession turned out...yep. I totally got a ticket from a scalper! I wore the only nice clothes I had, my trusty blue town dress that has traveled via bounce boxes all over the east coast for two summers now. And I saw Hamilton, with some of the original cast. And it was AMAZING and everything I'd hoped for!The strange thing is, when I hear the music now, I have vivid associations between it and the trail. It became the soundtrack to Virginia for me.So Hamilton happened. I got stranded in New York for 3 days. I stayed in an AirBNB home made out of shipping containers. I reluctantly shaved my legs, stopped wearing my "hiking spats," and gradually started looking less like a hiker. And I flew home to finish my book.Atlas continues to text me from the trail, and his descriptions are sweet torture for me - I'm both so happy to experience it vicariously and so sad that I'm no longer there. I think that's the way a lot of people feel (Actually, I know it's the way they feel - several former thru-hikers have written me about feeling that way when they read my journal entries). It's actually been two summers now that I've come off trail early in order to finish a publishing project. Last summer was Neil Gaiman. This summer I finished up Poetic Salvage: Reading Mina Loy, to be published by Bucknell University Press in conjunction with Rowman and Littlefield in December.It was strange to come back from the woods and immediately jump into proofreading, editing, and indexing. Again.And how weird it was when I made my first hike with my regular Sunday hiking group and could see the Pacific from the trail. We're not in Kansas (err, Virginia) any more, Toto. (Returning to my diving gig at the Aquarium of the Pacific was lovely though! How I missed being in the water.) Classes start soon and I'm thinking of how I'll frame this experience for my students and what I'll do with it in terms of writing and my life.I'm also thinking that if I don't come back early, if I don't do any writing projects, if I spend every minute of summer I have next summer...will I be able to finish the rest of the trail? I guess we'll find out next summer!STATS:527   Total miles40   Total days5      Pairs of socks and underwear I carried5      States I walked through0      Times I fell and the poles didn't catch me 2      Miles per hour (estimate I used for walking distance)2      Sets of clothing I carried (clean for night, dirty for day)10+      Bee stings10+      Bears I sawTotal Amount of AT Covered So Far: 1,104.30 miles