morvasaaty/AppalachianTrail-LD-Hikers-Blogs-and-Weather-20-years huggingface dataset:
Date: 2011-08-26
From: Black Brook

To: Day 106
Miles today: 6.6

So I have a new plan. Instead of running a 20-mile marathon today so that I can try to get to Rangeley before tomorrow afternoon, I decided to take a 1/2 day. It usually doesn't take much to convince me to take it easy out here but, in this case, it took a hurricane... My new plan is to go slow for a couple of days and get to Rangeley on Sunday night. Then I'll hit the P.O. as soon as they open on Monday and find a place to stay while the hurricane passes.    Since I now have time to kill, I decided to walk back to the road and hitch 3 miles over to the South Arm Campground. I spent the morning and early afternoon doing laundry, taking a shower, raiding the hiker box, and checking out the campground. I almost had to save someone's life by stabbing her with my epi-pen this afternoon. Poor girl drank a swallow out of a can of Coke that just so happened to have a yellow jacket in it. The thing stung her in the throat on the way down and damn near cut off her breathing entirely. Luckily, Ibuprofen was enough to keep her stable until an ambulance could arrive. So I drank my customary quart of milk, packed out a loaf of bread, and hitched right back to the trail head feeling like a million bucks. I desperately needed to get clean, days and days of patchy rain had me feeling pretty grimy.    I left the campground around 2:00 and climbed 2,200' over Old Blue Mountain. Then I roller-coastered for a few miles passed Bemis Mt. until I found a beautiful little on top of a ridge just a little ways down a side trail. I witnessed a pretty magical sunset followed by a fantastically clear starry night. Only 20 miles to get into Rangeley and 2 whole days with which to hike it. So much for that marathon huh?NEAR0 THE NORTH!
Date: 2011-08-27
From: Bemis Mountain

To: Day 107
Miles today: 10.4

Today was the beautiful day in the Maine countryside that I've been waiting for. I unfortunately missed the sunrise but was still able to enjoy the early morning hours as I watched the woods wake up and come to life around me. I felt uncharacteristically energetic this morning. I don't know if it was the beautiful scenery, all the good food that I ate yesterday, or the fact that I've only got 10 miles to hike today. Needless to say, I took it nice and slow and enjoyed myself in spite of my energy level. Any ability that I once had to maintain a fast pace and take short breaks while hiking solo has all but left me. I took a nice long break at the Bemis Mountain Lean-to for no reason at all other than to experiment with trying different condiments on my loaf of bread. Then I got held up for another hour picking blueberries on the northern peak of the mountain. I did fill up an entire Nalgene bottle with blueberries though. Yum.   It was after 3:00 by the time I had done the 5.5 to ME 17. There, I met a couple of pretty freaked out SoBo's who told me that the hurricane is due to hit us tonight, a day earlier than expected. I called Pop to get a more accurate weather report, toyed with the idea of hitching up to Rangeley or down to Andover to dodge the storm, and finally just decided to do the 4.5 to the Sabbath Day Pond Lean-to and try to beat the hurricane to Rangeley in the morning. I left just after 4:20 and was at the shelter by 6:00. To my surprise, the shelter was empty when I got here. I guess I'm the only one who is crazy enough to hike out into the wilderness right before a hurricane is due to hit. No bad weather yet though!
Date: 2011-08-28
From: Sabbath Day Pond

To: Day 108
Miles today: 0.0

Bad weather. Really bad. On August 28, 2011 at 2:30 AM, Hurricane Irene made landfall. And she has been going strong all day long. This is definitely a hurricane. I remember these signs all too well: pouring rain, violent wind gusts, the sound of widow-makers going down all around me. Keeping in accordance with my pitiful work ethic as of late, I decided to take a 0 and not try to hurricane-hike 10 miles to Rangeley. That's right, Portable G will be spending his Sabbath day taking a 0 in the Sabbath Day pond Lean-to! this is the day of rest after all. Growing up in Florida has really made me pretty jaded to the whole danger of hurricanes. It is actually less lonely and scary and more comforting and reminiscent to be caught in a hurricane again. If this thing had been called a noreaster I might very well be in town right now.    I've simply accepted the fact that, at the rate I'm going, there is just no way that I'll be able to summit Katahdin by the full moon on the 12th. I'll just have to be content having summited Washington for the last full moon back on the 13th. I can't believe that was only 2 weeks ago. New Ham seems like it is a world away at this point. Maine has just been so much more significantly and consistently difficult than I had anticipated. It is like a completely different hike that anything else on the AT. A lot of the old timers say that when you get to Vermont you've completed about 75% of the trail in terms of miles but only 50% of the trail in terms of difficulty. I must say I'm inclined to agree with them.   Anyway I have a new goal: Summit the big K and hitch into Millinocket by the 16th to make it to the Trails End Festival. I need to have a fixed goal and a rough schedule in place or else I'm just going to stay here forever and never get through Maine. Katahdin is just my 1/2 way point after all. A groovy hiker festival for a bunch of NoBo's whom have all just finished their hikes is something to look forward to indeed. I'll only have to do like 12.5 miles/day to make it there too. If I can't do at least 12.5 mi/day for a couple of weeks, I probably shouldn't still be out here...
Date: 2011-08-29
From: Sabbath Day Pond Lean-to 

To: Day 109
Miles today: 9.4

It felt good to start hiking again this morning. I was pretty restless considering that I spent the entire day yesterday in an 8' X 12' lean-to, save for one rain-drenched visit to the privy. I literally spent the whole day smoking hash, sewing my gear up with dental floss, singing out loud, and eating one dinner after another after another.    The 10 miles that I had to hike to get to ME 4 were sheer chaos. The trail had been reduced to nothing more than a twisted debris field. Trees are down all over the place; there were some sections today where I was climbing through downed tree limbs and over mangled trunks for tenths of miles at a time, unable to see the ground. It was kind of sad honestly. The forest as a living entity was without a doubt seriously wounded yesterday. The awesome power of the hurricane didn't become clear until I really witnessed the scope of the damage. Wow.   It took me all of 2 minutes to snag a hitch into Rangeley. the first thing I did was hit the P.O. and get my mail drop (I was down to coffee and Ramen) and my new sleeping pad! No more cold nights in my hammock or uncomfortable nights on a hard shelter floor. Thanks Big Agnes. Then I went and stashed my pack at the Ecopelagicon, a hiker-friendly nature store right on the river in town. I quickly decided not to camp there because I got a weird vibe from a weird SoBo named Style who had already made himself at home out back.    So I packed up and headed over to Sarge's Pub just in time for happy hour where I spent the next 2 hours drinking beer and rum and eating a burger, bacon, and clam chowder. Then me and another NoBo who showed up for happy hour, Spice, got a hitch from this bar rat to the IGA down the road. After a quick re-supply, we hit the highway and pretty much immediately get picked up by this crazy due who is drinking and driving.   Homeboy turns out to be a crazy heroin/crack head (which doesn't bother me in the slightest for some reason) who works construction here in town. he breaks the ice with the phrase "you boys need any DRUGS?" We ask him what he's got and he replies with "pretty much everything you can think of." This is a great first impression of what trail-towns in Maine are like. This guy proceeds to drive us to a trailer park where two old burnouts live. They give us beer, roll us joints, and chat us up for a bit. We talk about drugs, the trail, how awesome and rugged Maine is, but mostly drugs for a while. By the time we make our peace with the local drug addicts and get a lift back to the trail the sun is well in to setting. I drunkenly decide to hike in my camp shoes the 2 miles up to Piazza Rock Lean-to and stubbornly refuse to put my headlamp on when it gets dark. Luck and maybe a little karma are the only reasons why I got there without hurting myself. Spice and I drank most of the 6-pack of Harder Lemonade that I had packed out, smoked some opium, smoked some hash, smoked some cigs, and called it a day.
Date: 2011-08-30
From: Piazza Rock Lean-to

To: Day 110
Miles today: 9.6

What a night. I woke up with a pounding headache at 2:00 AM and tossed and turned for hours. My body is reeling from a days worth of surviving hurricanes and abusing drugs. Finally, I decide to burn one for medicinal purposes to ease my pain. Spice happens to wake up so him and I have a little impromptu 4:20 AM safety meeting. I go right to sleep.   The next morn I get up, bid Spice farewell, and spend the rest of the morning in recovery mode. I visited the privy twice, climbed the steep side-trail up to Piazza Rock, drank the rest of my Harder Lemonades, sunned out all of my wet shit, chatted with the cute caretaker/09' thru-hiker, and pretty much just sat there brain-dead until 11:00 AM. Then I climbed 4 miles up Saddleback Mountain. I paused there because I got cell reception; so I sent some texts out to Belgian Chronic, Green Mile, and Pipe. I also had the chance to catch up with Belle for a while. My beautiful girl is back safely in Gainesville in school. Another summer tour has come and gone. I miss her so much that it hurts. Day after day, I just can't stop thinking about her. I try not to let it get to me but my withdraws don;t seem to get any easier with time. I often imagine how much different life would be if she were out here with me. It's almost like all of these experiences that I'm having aren't going to mean anything because I've got no one to share them with. After this is all over, how am I to be sure if this experience was actually real? Maybe this journal will help in that regard...   Anyway, I climbed down Saddleback, struggled to get up and over The Horn, then fought to get up and down Saddleback Junior. Apparently I'm in the Bigelow Range now, which would make sense because these mountains are ENORMOUS. I ran back in to Buckeye coming down Saddleback Junior so I sped up to his ungodly pace so we could chat. It was the first time in a while that I've hiked faster than 3 mph for any sustained amount of time; it felt really good actually. I was feeling frisky, so I pressed on passed the Poplar ridge Lean-to and stealthed by the Oberton Stream. I have a festival to get to after all ; )
Date: 2011-08-31
From: Oberton Stream

To: Day 111
Miles today: 10.3

Nothing too terribly exciting happened today. When you live out here you can;t expect every day to be an adventure though I guess. Let's see, last night I got caught with my pants down when it started to rain at midnight and I hadn't bothered to set up my tarp. It's not the first time that has happened, probabaly won't be the last. It sucks every time too. It was still drizzling when I woke up this morning and it was freakishly cold so I just stayed in my sleeping bac for a while. Slow moving morning. I didn't actually start covering ground until after 11:00 AM. Pitiful I know.   I climbed off the ridge and started the day off with an east little river "ford" over Oberton Stream. Then I did 2nd breakfast with another college orientation group that I met at Perham Stream. You see, all of the Ivy-Leagues up here give their freshman the option to hike AT for a week for orientation. These groups tend to be pretty lifeless and stand-offish, but not nearly as aggravating as the loud Boy Scout groups. I didn't even try to yogi and food from this group though. I just sat there silently and washed my feet with my hands in the stream while they all ate. Then I smoked weed in front of their group leaders and blatantly stated at all of the girls' tits in an attempt to make the time that we spent together as awkward as possible. Quality entertainment on an otherwise boring morning hike.    There was this really fast sluice flume that spilled into a giant waterfall that I really regret not showering in now. It's getting to be a while now since my last non-hurricane-related shower and I'm beginning to develop a pretty healthy damp-moldy-hiker funk. Nothing that a splash of Doc Bronners won't cure though. There really weren't any huge exhausting climbs to speak of today, which is atypical for Maine. Kind of a pleasant change of pace, but I'm resisting being lulled in to a false sense of security. I stopped at the Spaulding Mt. Shelter for 2nd lunch and a 4:20 PM safety meeting. Chilled with an old dude, a foreign guy, a cool flip-flopper, his beautiful dog, Eve, and 2 super-fresh SoBo's who are only 200 miles into their thru-hike. I gave the SoBo's some advice about filtering water, obtaining food, and getting high out here before I pressed on. Found a nice little patch a meadow right on the side-trail leading to Mt. Sugarloaf and set up me hammock. Good easy day today.
Date: 2011-09-01
From: Mt. Sugarloaf

To: Day 112
Miles today: 13.4

I actually woke up on my own at 7:45 this morning. Progress is what you call that. I left my camp behind and did the .6 to the summit of Sugarloaf. There I burned one, soaked in the view, and talked to Mom, Pop, and Belle for quite a while. According to my parents, I was here on this summit once before. It was 20 years ago. I was 4 years old. And I took ski lessons here apparently. It was kind of weird and reminiscent to be sitting on top of that mountain by myself, after having hiked almost 1,000 miles to get there, thinking about me as a toddler frolicking on the mountain with my parents. I would probably be a professional skiing champion by now if we had never left Maine.   It was 10:30 before I broke camp and got back on-trail. Progress. The going was rough today; and I was not a happy hiker. I don;t know if it's because I've cut back on my dope intake and haven't been able to drum up a cig in a few days. Or that I keep slipping and busting my ass. Or that I was either climbing straight up or straight down all day. Or that I'm just plain haggard and exhausted. But I've been pretty grumpy all day. I got sick and tired of the huge bag of trash that I've been packing for some reason. So, when I got to ME 27, I wrote a please-and-thank-you note and attached a dollar to it, then I left the trash, note, and monetary compensation in the parking lot at the trail head and disappeared back into the woods. Then I pressed on to Cranberry Pond and made camp.    I've decided to shoot for 15+ miles/day instead of 12.5 to give myself a little bit of a time cushion too. I'm sure I'll want to spend some time in town or possibly take another near0 before Katahdin and hiking fast will allow me to do that. I figure that I should set my goals unpractacally high, so that when I inevitably come up short, it's not all that detrimental...
Date: 2011-09-02
From: Cranberry Pond

To: Day 113
Miles today: 12.4

I didn't get a chance to swim in Cranberry Pond this morning because it is filled to the brim with leeches and Giardia. But, despite that little hiccup, I had a much better day today. The terrain wasn't any easier seeing as how I'm still climbing through The Bigelows but my spirits definitely took a turn for the better. My energy level was through the roof (probabaly because of all the comfort food I ate yesterday) and I was rather chipper all day long. I even spent a few hours teaching myself how to whistle; figured it was about time. My small degree of substance withdraws can suck it.    The Bigelows are just incredible to boot. I was literally rendered speechless at every single view I came across today. Climbing over The Horns, Bigelow Mountain, and Avery Peak as every bit as challenging and magnificent as The Whites. The hike today did have the unique distinction of not being packed full of tourists like most of the White Mountain Range however. It was really neat how I could see the summit of Mt. Sugarloaf for most of the day too. Crazy to have line-of-sight verification of how far I've come in just 24 hours. I even had another chance to stop and forage for blueberries at Horns Pond. I promptly added to my Nutella crackers for 2nd breakfast. Yum. I managed to do some pretty long, tough, dangerous stretches without stopping for a break. Still, I didn't hit my 15-mile goal. That's what happens when you don't start hiking until 10:30 AM I guess.   I might be getting a break tomorrow though; the terrain looks relatively flat and the weather relatively stable. My alarm is set for 6:45 AM. I just took a dip in the 'The Tubs' and freshened up a bit. Now I'm enjoying a nice campfire and some company at the Little Bigelow Lean-to. Let's see if we can't do a 20-mile day tomorrow to make up for lost time!i just wish i remembered what dry socks feel like...
Date: 2011-09-03
From: Little Bigelow lean-to

To: Day 114
Miles today: 17.7

I woke up this morning bright and early, rolled out of my sleeping bag, and immediately got hit by a rainstorm as I was packing up. It didn't rain for long though, just long enough to make all of the rocks and roots wet, slippery, and dangerous. Just a little something extra to make my long day more interesting. The trail was, in fact, a bloody mess but I kept a quick pace anyway. I slipped off a rock and fell into a mud puddle during my first hour of hiking, thoroughly drenching the socks that I has meticulously dried out overnight. I somehow missed some awesome trail magic at Long Falls Dam (beer, soda, cookies, pie, ice cream, and fruit) and didn't find out about it until after the fact. Later, I was chased through the woods by an angry band of wasps that were tenaciously guarding someone's abandoned trekking pole that was left in the middle of the trail. Things were not looking good for me.   That was until I took a break at the West Carry Pond Lean-to. There I found a stash of macadamia nut cookies and 5-layer pastry squares. It's funny how a little bit of trail magic can turn your whole day around. I only made it 10 more miles to the Pierce Pond Lean-to, which means that I did 17.9 miles instead of 20. It was for good reason though: I was able to yogi some dank mac and cheese from an orientation group of kids from Colby College. They also told me about a guy who runs a B&B in the middle of the woods just 1/3 of a mile away. And he is supposed to serve up a legendary pancake breakfast if you let him know you're coming. Portable G breaks for pancakes and he's not afraid to admit it. There is just something about this place too. The shelter. The pond. The beaver dam. The river. The B&B. The whole place is just thick and dense and magical and secluded and cut-off. It's like time is meaningless out here. To hell with doing big miles and walking right passed spots like this. I'm pretty sure this is why I'm out here; to slow down and really begin to experience life.
Date: 2011-09-06
From: Horseshoe Canyon Lean-to

To: Day 117
Miles today: 9.0

Okay, this is not cool anymore. Now I really need to get into Monson. Everything that I own is soaked. My sleeping bag. My food bag. My clothes bag. My guidebook. My stove. This journal. I'm pretty sure my cameras are ruined. The only things that stayed dry are the contents my hard dry cases: cell phone, ipod, money, rolling papers, hash. Only 9 more miles to get to Monson, how hard could they be?   Well, the rainstorm that hit us last night turned out to be a tropical storm. And said tropical storm is said to continue to dump water on the entire eastern seaboard for a little while to come. This is a mess. The east branch of the Piscataquis, which is supposed to be easier to ford than the west branch has been declared "impassible." Well, I wasn't about to let myself get stuck in a lean-to in between two branches of the SAME flooded river! I went for it.    I caught up to Onager at the river. This side is much wider than the west branch, but it's shallower and the current isn't as fierce. Here's what we have to do to get across: Onager starts by stripping down to his boxers and packing his clothes along with his entire pack into a black garbage bag. Then he swims across the river while I tie our bear-lines together to get a 50' length of rope. I throw him one end of the rope, fasten the other end to the garbage bag, and throw it into the river. He quickly yanks his gear across the river and throws the line back to me. Then I inflate my air pad and creatively lash my pack onto it. I attach the bear-line to it and used my pad as a flotation device for myself and my pack. I swim, pushing my pad from behind while Onager pulls the line from the front. It works like a charm. Nucking Futs.    After collecting ourselves on the other side, we trudged the arbitrary number of miles down to Monson for some desperately needed R&R. We were each no less than 10 lbs heavier due to our wet gear and the going was really tough. I even (gulp) took a blue-blazed trail in order to get into town without having to hitch. That's what kind of day I was having. I made it to Shaw's Lodging and almost had to tent outside because they are so packed. Thankfully I got squeezed into the bunkroom because, guess what? More rain. All night long.
Date: 2011-09-07
From: Shaw's Lodging 

To: Day 118
Miles today: 0.0

The AYCE breakfast I ate this morning (and the shower) have me feeling like a million bucks. So good, in fact, that I just decided to take a double zero here. Actually, I'm kind of stuck here with no choice. The trail is literally a disaster area right now. Hikers are being rescued all over the 100-mile Wilderness. Most of the wilderness isn't accessible by jeep right now either so they're having to send out helicopters and sea planes to rescue people who are stranded. In the 15 miles of trail just passed Monson, there are 4 rivers that have been declared 'impassible.' The Kennebec River ferry is shut down until further notice. The Appalachian Trail is officially closed in the entire state of Vermont. Shit is really real right now. So me and the other hikers are kind of stuck here wondering what to do. A bunch of folks, including Moxie and Onager, just decided to hop on the pavement and road-walk all the way to Baxter State Park. Zen, Mt. Dew, and I decided that it would be a cop-out to skip the 100-mile Wilderness after traveling this far. So we're going to zero out for a couple of days until the rain stops, let the flood waters recede, let the rivers chill out, and then hike every single mile of the wilderness like true thru-hikers. This is not such a bad option because I am now afforded the time to sit around and eat, smoke, and get drunk for 2 days. I feel like I deserve this after the series of shit storms I just went through. Here goes...