Date: 2003-08-23
From: Hanover, NH

To: Moose Mtn. Shelter
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: clear sky

Hi Friends - I've tried writing this a couple times and each timedecided there was far too much for me to put in words. Then I think, "how could I not share these things?" So I'll do my best to give you some of my experiences,challenges, progress, funny stories and even a sliceof my daily routine. First, let me tell you that I've hiked over 1,600miles and am in Hanover, NH. I have less than 500miles to reach the northern terminus of the trail inBaxter State Park in Maine. It's funny to me thatwhen we were in Georgia and Tennessee and tellingpeople that we were hiking to Maine, we were the onesfilled with exuberance. Now, we tell people we'vehiked from Georgia and are almost to Maine, and theyare the ones filled with enthusiasm for the journey(to us, we're still out just hiking). I guess I'mtrying to say that it's a way of life now...a littleless novel than it was 1,000 miles ago. Yet there are still impressive sights, stillbreathtaking views, chilling sunrises and beautifulpeople. Actually, with our entrance in to Vermont,I'm finally feeling like I'm seeing some new forests;for instance, there was a forest floor as I hiked offKillington Mtn. the other day that was absolutelycovered in clovers. Who would have thought I'd seemore clovers than I've seen my entire life in Vermont? And beyond that (same mountain, a mile or so on) Iwalked in to a birch forest with tall, beautiful paletrees spread far from one another with a carpet offerns beneath. I pass by so many things like thiseach day. Because it is what I do daily, sometimes I forget tolook at the beauty. Sometimes, I'm wound up in my ownthoughts. Sometimes, I'm tired and thinking only ofpitching my tent. Sometimes, I just look at my feetand place one in front of the other. But, if I'm inthe right frame of mind, each step is a blessing, eachoutlook miraculous, each bird, frog, fungi, flowersomething unseen and unique. I thought one day (along time back-in Virginia) that we've got the powerof perspective and enjoyment in everything that we do,even in our daily lives. It's seeking it out andloving it while we've got it. So by now, you're probably thinking, what a loony birdshe's become on the trail. And perhaps I have. Buthere's another thought I'd like to share with you: that so much on the trail is monumental. We play hard(hiking anywhere from 15 to 20 miles per day). We eatbig (often one or two breakfasts, a couple snacks,lunch, and a dinner or two - and town food is consumedeven more feverishly). We climb mountains, and evenon the tops of small ones, states honor them withstructures, words and lights. So, maybe that beginsto explain how I can say such things. But, I can't begin to try and deceive you. Becausethings can become very routine and even sometimesstale out here. Sometimes you think, "Why on earthwould I want to see another tree" or "Ugh, hikingagain." Generally, I¢m awake at 6:15, unable to sleepa wink longer. My body is an alarm clock lately, andsuper persistent. By 6:30 I¢ve stuffed my sleepingbag and rolled my mat, trying, quietly, to reassemblemy pack. I eat breakfast ¢ generally granola andpowdered milk, or in cold weather, oatmeal. Oh, by7:30 or so, I¢m ready to hit the trail. I saddle onmy pack knowing, most days at least, where I¢ll stopfor water, for lunch, and for sleep. Sometimes I¢llbegin my hike by looking at the maps ¢ to get an ideaof what kind of elevation gain or loss I¢ll have inthe day. But, generally, I prefer not to know. Either way I¢ve got to take what comes at me, andforesight doesn¢t exactly make me stronger. After acouple hours of hiking I¢ve covered maybe 4 or 5 milesand am ready for an early morning snack. Generally Itake this by water or a nice shady spot along the way. Lunch is taken with a similar approach. By now in myday, I¢ve covered the majority of miles that I intendto hike (well, at least over half) and can begin torelax about the rest of the afternoon. I¢vediscovered that I¢m a thoughtful morning hiker butthat I really enjoy company in the afternoons. Talking with friends sure does make the time gofaster. If I¢m lucky, now that the sun is settingearlier, I¢m in camp by 7, enough time to get water,eat dinner, set up my tent, journal (if I¢m feeling upto it), and read a bit of my book "Midnight¢sChildren." We consider hiker midnight to be 10:00. It is super rare if we are ever up beyond that time. There are times when the weather has dictated myschedule. For instance, there was a period of time inVirginia when it rained each night and in to themorning. This meant I was "forced" to sleep in andwait out the rain before getting up and breaking camp. Later, as we moved north in that state, it would rainlike clockwork, each afternoon at 4 or 4:30. Thismeant I had to hustle to make it to camp before thestorm. Most recently, in Massachusetts we weregetting a lot of rain and it just generally slowed usdown, resulting in us hiking maybe only 6 or 8 milesper day. It¢s been an unusually wet year for thru-hikers. Throughout most of Virginia it rained and even up herein New England they¢re reporting higher than averagerainfall for recent weeks. Each year situations andcircumstances change; challenges evolve. Some yearsit is bothersome heat and dry water sources. Not the case for us! We¢ve had gushing water sources along with muddy,slick trails and frequent downed trees to hurdle. It¢s made the journey a bit more difficult but not alltogether unbearable. Probably my most difficult timeon the trail was just before entering the ShennandoahNatl. Park. My sister and her family had come tovisit. We had a lovely time, stayed in a hotel, ransome errands and even did some day hiking ¢ all in thesunshine. The following day as they returned meto the trail, it starts to rain again ¢ and for somereason, the idea of going out in the rain, like ananimal, as my family drives off in the nice warm car,to a nice indoor house, broke my spirit. Theysupportively watched me stuff my pack, laden withexcess food, and hike off all teary-eyed. I cried sohard up the mountain that I had to settle myself downso I wouldn¢t hyperventilate. I didn¢t make it the 10miles I had planned. Instead, I hiked only 3. Andthe following day, to compensate, I hiked my first 22miles in a never-ending fog with drizzle and rain. The first day out of town sucked. It¢s always tough(because of a heavier pack filled with food, orbecause you¢re leaving creature comforts), but thesecond day makes you stronger. Gosh, there are so many other things that I want totell you about. I wish I could give you descriptionsof some of the people I¢ve met. They have made thelast 700 miles more amazing than the first thousand. I guess I allowed myself to start opening up topeople, too. After you¢ve gone through the sameexperiences as these other folks, there¢s commonground and an inexplicable level of trust. All of thesudden, you¢re hearing stories that are probably sopersonal and dear to these individuals that theyhaven¢t told everyone in their families ¢ or theirbest friends. And, they¢re crying, fearlessly, infront of you. And you get to be a kid again, laughingat silly things, like chaffing we call monkey-butt,jokes about the privy (out-house), or attempts to flya kite from a canoe (we tried and failed¢¦but what awonderful picture of optimism). There¢s swimming, karaoke, blues bands, birthdayparties on mountaintops, poetry recitation sessions,strangers, hitchhiking, and kind neighbors of thetrail that also never cease to amaze me. Forinstance, just two days ago, Morph and I stopped at VTroute 12 to get water from a farmer¢s spigot. Hegreeted us, told us to help ourselves to the outdoorshower, and if we¢d like to stay the night in the barnto make ourselves at home. We were just stopping forlunch, and we explained as much. But, during lunch,Morph and I were overcome with the urge to be farmersfor the day. We pitched "the plan" for the day outthe window, and proclaimed that we were his farm handsfor the day. We helped install an electric fence, andI got to mow with what seemed like a sonic speed JOHNDEER while he and Morph directed the steer in to thepin. It was definitely a unique experience. And justto hit home, that this time off the physical trail waspart of the overall trail experience, while I wasmowing, I drove over, thereby exposing, a GeologicalSurvey Marker of the Appalachian Trail which we areaccustomed to seeing along the way but never seeoutside of the mountains. This was a reminder for me,that everything I do, every encounter I have in town,at hostels, or on the trail is a part of this journey. Then our host, Dan Quinn, had us for dinner, whichwas a totally unexpected surprise. It was proof thatwe¢d made fast friends with this former stranger, whowould later offer to make us a pot of coffee before weset off in the morning. So, I¢ll close with letting you know that this is justa glimpse of all the things I¢ve seen and theexperiences I¢ve had. I look forward to telling youmore and sharing more along the way. All my love (because I¢ve got oh so much to give) ¢Leanna