May 22 - 31

May 22.  Vashna, Not Yet and Yet Again and Million Miler.

Vashna, rather distinguished looking despite the absence of a coat and tie, is a retired banker from Atlanta, Georgia, doing a thru-hike NOBO. Day One was March 4th. Asked about the origin of his trailname, he doesn’t seem annoyed despite probably having been asked hundreds of times, says, “I’m half Russian.”
Vashna relates, “I’ve done a fair amount of hiking and always wanted to do the AT. I negotiated with my wife.”  Smiling, “The AT is much better than I expected. It’s the people, and not only the hikers, but the people in towns.”
“Vashna, what does your wife think about this crazy idea?”
“When my wife visited me she remarked, ‘Since you started hiking you are a much nicer guy to other people.’”  Vashna adds, “But I’ve been taken aback by so many nice people. Not a day goes by that I don’t say to myself, ‘You are one lucky guy being out here.’”  He keeps in touch with the wife whom he wishes were with him with his cellphone and phone card. “My absence is a burden on my wife.”

Vashna packs 42 pounds including two luxury items: a radio with two extra batteries and a tent, supposedly a two-man tent, but he indicated it would be very crowded. “I take in the sights; I’m not a racer.”
Do you use the shelters?”
“I stay in shelters about 75 percent of the time.”
“Do you take vitamins?”
“Yes, and handy wipes are wonderful. They’re not only for the hands.”
“Did you have any scary moments?”
“I had a close encounter with a rattlesnake going downhill a week ago hiking through the area near the Bear’s Den Hostel in Virginia. I jumped back and scared the rattler, but he didn’t leave. He kept rattling. I waited for my buddy to come up and told him to keep an eye on the snake while I tried to circle around out of its way. I had to keep an eye on the ground because of the terrain and didn’t want to take an eye off the snake. It worked, we left him rattling.”
Then as an afterthought, “I stumbled across two bear cubs about 20 yards away and heard noise on my right. I scooted off quickly.”

Not Yet, the smiling wife, and Yet Again, the husky husband, started their NOBO sectional from Pen Mar, Maryland, heading to Katahdin.
“How did you prepare to hike the AT?”
“We live or rather we lived in Colorado, and we hiked four days and did 28 miles at the bottom of the Grand Canyon,” answers Yet Again. “We both worked for IBM and were forced to work seven days a week and burned out. The company was also cutting benefits, but the forced overtime was too much. If you complain,” Yet Again expounds, “they tell you, ‘That’s the way the market is.’”
Yet Again (he) explains, “I wanted to come back to New York for a family wedding.”
Not Yet (she) interjects, “I said, OK, I’ll go if you do the AT with me.”  He negotiated her down to a long northern sectional passing near relatives noting, “We don’t know any one down south.” Apparently, in case they needed or desired to take a zero day side trip.

Their trailnames were making me dizzy. Not Yet now carries about 40 pounds and Yet Again has his pack down to 50 from 60 pounds. He declares, “Still too much weight.”  He, or was it she, says, ”We just sent back 17 pounds of stuff between us.”
“What did you mail back?”
“A radio, an extension fly for the tent, hats, sunglasses, sunscreen, bug spray and a couple books.”  Not Yet had a little hiker’s hobble and I mention Spam’s duct tape advice. Laughing, she asserts, “I use it and it sticks great, but leaves a residue.” They are also doing mail drops to resupply.
“Stereotypes disappear on the trail,” Yet Again says. “We average about 10 to 14 miles and hike single file.” Not Yet discloses, “He hikes faster uphill, but I catch him on the flats. We like Caledonia State Park. Quarry Gap is gorgeous. And the shelter there is the Hilton of shelters with raised wooden platforms for tents.”
Yet Again remarks, “We’re not into those legendary trail challenges like most other people.
At Pine Grove Furnace State Park we didn’t eat a half-gallon of ice cream. We didn’t try to do the 30-hour straight, non-stop, hike across Maryland.  We’re more laid back.” After forgetting to take a photo of Vashna, I remember to record a digital image of Not Yet and Yet Again.

I was about to head home from the Pub at 10:00 PM when Million Miler stepped through the door for a cola. He later explained how he got his trailname. “I drove truck for a million miles without an accident.” Million Miler is from Hilton Head, South Carolina, doing a thru-hike NOBO.  He’s 47.
“What sort of hiking experience do you have, Million Miler?”
“When I was teaching English in Costa Rica in 1980, I did the Inca Trail in Peru, and saw the Inca Mountain City of Machupichu. That was only a three-day hike. I went around the world for two years. About 1985, I did the Anapurna Trail in Nepal. In the fall of 1987, I did the Springer to Pearisburg, Virginia, section.”
“Why are you thru-hiking the AT?”
“I drove truck for over 13 years in the USA and Canada. I quit to do the whole AT. Got tired of the job.”  Continuing, “My right leg is sore, possibly a tendon, so I’m taking a zero day. It’s only my fourth zero day.”
I noticed he could speak German. As a child he had lived in Fulda because his father had a job there in 1965 for several years. Wish I had asked the Million Miler about other languages.

Million Miler is an independent type. “I think too much so I bought a radio about a week ago. Used to listen to the radio in the truck. I hike alone and think good thoughts – it’s a challenge.” Don’t know whether he meant hiking the AT alone or it if it were a challenge to think good thoughts. He had a twinkle in the eye when he said it.
Million Miler had only heard about AT trail icon Earl Shaffer’s death yesterday, so he paused to read the obituary the Pub has taped to its trail log.
 
“Were you ever lost?”
“Once for a half mile in a pouring rain with my glasses fogged up Virginia. It was real rocky too.”“Do you usually sleep in a tent?”
“Since Northern Virginia, I stay mostly in the tent instead of the shelters. I stayed in a hostel three times and get between the shelters - they’re too crowded.  But if it’s raining cats and dogs, it’s better than a wet tent.”  
“I hear there are mice in the shelters.”
“Once a mouse ran across my face in a shelter, so I bought two mouse traps and killed two mice that night. One morning the traps were gone. I believe some animal lover threw them out.”  Million Miler adds, “I don’t set them out if there are any dogs around.”

May 23.  P Nut, Night Frog and Hungry Hippo.

Thursday, is another sunny day without a cloud in the sky. I sit down with P Nut at the picnic table on the balcony of the Doyle overlooking the square.
“How old are you? When did you leave?”
P Nut responds, “I’m 23 years old from Chevy Chase, Maryland, and I’m doing a thru-hike NOBO. Day One from Springer was March 4th.”
“Where did you attend school, P Nut?”
“I graduated from Virginia Tech with a B.A. in Mass Communications. I put a career on hold to hike the AT since I’m not tied down.”
“How did you become interested in hiking the AT?  Where you a Boy Scout?”
“Yes, I did backpacking with the Boy Scouts, and I lived near the AT. My college roommate, Ramble On, said he was going to hike the trail with three of his friends and invited me to come along. All five of us departed together.” P Nut advises, “Watch for my trail family -- Ramble On, Morning Glory, Snaps and Evergreen.”

“P Nut, have you lost any weight since you departed back in March?”
“I started out heavy like most everybody else, but reduced my pack from 50 pounds to the 30 to 35 pound range. I lost about 20 to 25 pounds since Springer. I was involved with athletics and was in pretty good shape. I swam for Virginia Tech.” P Nut discloses, “The first week I developed terrible blisters on the back of my feet. I used Blister Blocks – a super adhesive – it’s better than duct tape.”
“Did you have any anxious or scary moments on the trail?”
“Yes, about three weeks ago. I was hiking with Iceman. It was chilly and we wanted to make 16 miles. It started raining - one of those 40-degree cold rains and I only had on a T-shirt and pants. I got soaking wet wearing only summer clothes and almost developed hypothermia. We got to the shelter and I changed into dry clothes. After a few hours I began to get my color back.” Solemnly he swears, “I learned a lesson. Keep your parka on an outside pocket, not buried in the inside of the pack.”

P Nut hikes by himself, but isn’t alone because of the trail community and the shelter register books. “The trail community is important,” P Nut emphasizes. “I meet a lot of friends.”
“P Nut, tell me about the shelters.”
“I only set the tent up six times. I sleep mostly in shelters. And I won’t set the tent up in the rain. Since Virginia, the trail is easier; now I’m averaging about 20 miles and did 26 once.”
P Nut observes, “The AT is a tour of the East Coast. It’s unlike the Pacific Crest Trail and Continental Divide Trail that is more wilderness.” 
“P Nut, one of the earlier hikers made a comment that the AT is the ‘All-white Trail.’ What is your observation?”
“There’s not many thru-hikers of ethnicity.”
P Nut mentions, “I am going to get off the trail for a week to attend my sister’s wedding in California.” Since a current draft of this book is maintained at both the Doyle Hotel and the Pub, P Nut trusts that his trail friends will likely read the reason for his absence and not be needlessly alarmed by the lack of shelter journal entries.

Night Frog was chatting in the Laundromat with his sister. The Hungry Hippo had just been dropped off in Duncannon, by their grandparents who were enroute home to New York. Night Frog and Hungry Hippo hail from Cody, Wyoming. He is 20 years old and departed March 3rd on the AT thru-hike.
“What are you studying in college, Hungry Hippo?”
“I just graduated from high school. I’ll be attending Pacific Lutheran University in Tacoma, Washington, to study broadcasting and announcing. I’m going to hike with my brother to Palmerton.”
“Night Frog, have you graduated from college?”
“I just completed my freshman year as a Chemistry major at Cumberland College in Kentucky. I decided to take a year off to do the AT.”
Night Frog politely interrupts the questioning. “We have a problem. Hungry Hippo’s pack had been mailed ahead but it got lost. We have a strict time schedule to meet in order to reach Palmerton for transportation connections so she can catch a ride home. Where is the nearest outfitter’s to buy her a new backpack?”  The interrogatories continued enroute to Wildware Outfitters in the eastern suburbs of Harrisburg.

Back home in Wyoming, Night Frog wrestled and did some hiking  “Last August, a friend told me about the AT.”
“How much does your pack weigh, Night Frog?”
“I cut the pack weight from 43 to 37 pounds.”
“Did you run into any problems on the trail?”
“I took a couple days off at Pearisburg, because I had bad shin splints. My ankles and feet swelled up. My boots have a ¾ steel shank and the salesman forgot to include an insole.”  Salesman error.
“Night Frog, what do you miss most out on the trail?”
“Music, especially at night. Songs go through my head while I’m hiking, so I try to concentrate on the scenery. Everything is blooming and beautiful.” 
“What do you think about as you hike?”
“I think about a profession. I was pre-dentistry, but now I want to be a high school chemistry teacher and a wrestling coach with summers off.”
“Any luxuries?”
“A radio. And some books by Jon Krakauer. Into Thin Air, about an adventure and disaster on Mount Everest, and Krakauer also wrote Eager Dreams. And Jack Kerouac, too. I didn’t bring my sax.”
“Night Frog, I hear the mice are bad in the shelters?” 
“In Maryland, there’s a shelter with two black snakes and people camp out. They’re freaked out on snakes.”
He continues, “I did the Maryland Challenge. It’s 41.1 miles and it took 19 hours to cross Maryland, mostly in the dark because of when I started.”
“Are you enjoying the hike? What are you learning?”
“I met a lot of people. I’m learning a lot. Someone always knows things that you don’t. And the experience of forming trail families that look out for each other, that’s great.  The AT is more mental than physical even though the body gets beat up. The reason people fail or get off the trail is usually mental.”

May 24.  Village Atheist and Ram Bunny.

(Ram Bunny) 

It is late afternoon, and the temperature is climbing into the low 80s. But in the shade of the Doyle balcony with a breeze blowing it seems ten degrees cooler. Village Atheist lounges on a wicker bench. He doesn’t mind my interruption although he has his ‘ears on’ listening to a small radio.
Village Atheist likes this old, blue-collar town and the people here. This laid back gentleman is unusual. He has been unwinding in Duncannon since February 18, 2002. He departed Duncannon, crossed the Susquehanna River, scaled Peters Mountain, enjoyed the view and returned to the Doyle the next day. Later in the conversation he declares he might relocate to Duncannon. The Village Atheist is doing a lengthy sectional NOBO from Harpers Ferry to Katahdin. Day One was February 6th. Last year, he finished his first sectional going south through Virginia, from Harpers Ferry to Damascus.

“I moved from Austin, Texas. I have no permanent address.” Then he answers the question I had not yet put to him, “I’m living off my investments. When I grow up I’ll figure out where I want to live.” His suite at the Doyle Hotel is paid up to the end of the month, so he’ll be re-crossing the Susquehanna on June 1.
“How old are you?”
“I’m 49,” the amiable Village Atheist discloses with a ready smile. He doesn’t have that gaunt look common to hikers.
“Have you lost much weight?”
“Last year hiking Virginia, my weight dropped 48 pounds from 271 to 223.  The first week on the trail, I only did six or seven miles, and then developed swollen feet and circulation problems. I took massive doses of Ibuprofen and walked off the soreness. By the time I got to Damascus, I doubled my early daily mileage.”
“Did you have any hiking experience?”
“No.”
“What possessed you to attempt that first section hike?”
“I didn’t want to live in Texas, and wanted to move back to the East Coast. I had the time and just decided to do the AT. I like it without any pressures, no deadlines.”
The Village Atheist credits Laura and Dandelion at the Harpers Ferry Outfitters for fixing him up with gear last August.
“Village Atheist, what is your packweight now?” 
“About 40 pounds and I allow myself a pocket AM/FM radio and a 35mm camera. It has a zoom function. I also have a daily journal.”

When I ask hikers whether they experienced any scary moments on the trail, most hikers quickly say no, pause, and then go on to relate a tale or two of the tails they’ve encountered. Village Atheist did just that, but I believe the events occurred last year on his first sectional.
“It was raining cats and dogs with lighting and thunder. I was on Calf Mountain, in Shenandoah.  I just crawled on top of a flat rock and pulled my tent over me – I didn’t set it up – and stayed the night.” Without hesitating, Village Atheist relates another episode. 
“I saw black bear, a half dozen, in Shenandoah, just south of Elk Mountain. As I came to the top of a crest, I saw a tree sway about 50 feet away.  A bear was up in the tree and it dropped down and sat right in front of me on the trail. I clapped and approached the bear like the manual instructed. Instead of running, the bear came toward me. The bear didn’t read the trail manual. I went back at normal pace and stayed below the ridge for twenty minutes.”
Village Atheist likes Shenandoah, and quickly expounds, apparently to dispel any notion that it is dangerous there, “Everything is tame. You can walk past deer and they continue munching on grass.”

A little later I see a hiker on the street outside the Pub. He doesn’t realize that the hotel part of the Doyle is still open, so we walk back to get him checked in. One of his trail friends, Ram Bunny, comes down the stairs refreshed after a shower and she agrees to chat. We descend onto the picnic table overlooking the square.
“What’s the origin of your trailname?”
“I’m named after Aries and I go like the energizer bunny.” Ram Bunny is on her third consecutive thru-hike and hopes to YOYO this year. Ram Bunny mentions, “Dorothy Laker was the first woman to do a YOYO on the AT back in the 1960s. Check it out in that book on the AT history by James Hare, Hiking the Appalachian Trail, Volume I and Volume II.”
“I usually ask about your age and when you departed Springer.”
Ram Bunny has nothing to hide. She smiles, “I’m in my forties, and I started Springer March 3rd.” 
“Where’s your hometown and why are you hiking the AT?”
“I’m from Indianapolis. I grew up hiking with the Girl Scouts and wanted to do the AT since 4th grade. I also did the Grand Canyon Trail and a lot of trails in Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan and Missouri.”
Ram Bunny explains further, “My marriage fell apart and the kids were almost grown. I paid off all my debts and was free!  No trepidation’s whatsoever. I did a happy dance in Georgia.” I picture her in Springer imitating Snoopy doing the famous Ode to Joy dance.

“What do you like best about the AT, Ram Bunny?”
“Being outdoors and the volunteerism on the trail, not just the hikers but the hostel owners, the workers and trail angels.”
“Did you ever have any scary moments?”
“No. None ever. But last year, twenty miles north of here I had a bear encounter with a very nice bear. We just stared at each other for awhile.” She advises,  “Be calm, rid yourself of fear.”
“Do you carry much weight?”
“I travel light; just 20 to 25 pounds. I use a beer can stove. For supper, I mix Ramen noodles and mashed potatoes, or stuffing and I also make rice dishes such as rice and beans. I stop once a week in towns and carefully plan mail drops to towns that do not have grocery stores.” 
“Ram Bunny, do you have any luxuries?”
“I have a disposable camera and a book. I like Tom Brown, Jr. who writes about Native American spirituality in the outdoors.”
“Ram Bunny, how expensive is it to do a thru-hike?”
“It costs almost $2,000 to hike the AT. I expect to spend $3,500 to do a YOYO.” Later, dining at the Pub, Ram Bunny relates she will work at a hostel for a week or so and do other odd jobs when her funds run low. Ram Bunny then expresses the financial ramifications in terms that I can understand, “If you have mail drops, stay in towns and drink beer, it costs about $1.50 per mile.” Ram Bunny continues, “Yes, I stay in shelters about half the time. In New England, actually from New Jersey on, it is expensive to stay in town, so most hikers use shelters or else camp.”
“If you could change one thing on the trail, what would it be?”
Ram Bunny thinks before answering. “The 17 mile reroute is stupid, to get you off the road.”  She clarifies, “In Tennessee, from Apple Orchard Shelter to Dennis Cove Road. Supposedly, it’s going to be rerouted this year. But probably,” she concedes, “that was the best alternative the trail clubs could do at the time.”

We change venue to the Pub to cure the ‘hungries’ and Ram Bunny places an order with Shannon. Then she proudly shows me her sneakers. “I’m retiring my first pair of Skechers Sport/trails after 1,200 miles.” She heartily recommends them, “Only $35, they’re comfy. Try it, you’ll like it.”
Ram Bunny is being served another Yuengling Lager and a big plate of hot wings so I start to take my leave. She turns and says, “Watch for Baltimore Jack. He will probably be coming in tomorrow. He’s on his seventh thru-hike. Look for Mrs. Gorp, too. She is on her 25th anniversary thru-hike.” The next morning I surf the Web and notice a post by Mrs. Gorp on trailjournals.com indicating she left the trail because her mother is very ill. I eventually meet Mrs. Gorp at a gathering of hikers in January 2003, at The Ruck at Pine Grove Furnace State Park where she reads Ram Bunny’s comments.

May 25.  Bohemian, Gummy Bear, DaleAmerica, Lil Engine and Goback.

Saturday, and the sky cover is a dull, white overcast that portends rain. The rhododendrons are in full bloom in Perry County; the azaleas peaked a week ago. Today the thermometer is 20 degrees cooler, in the low 60s, and the wind gusts produce shivers. The hikers alternated between T-shirts for the hearty and the trusty fleeces. Despite the relative raw edge to the weather, Bohemian was in his “Birks” with bare feet exposed. One of the first things Bohemian does when he reaches a shelter is take off his boots and slip into his Birks or Birkenstock sandals. He arrived late Friday afternoon. We talked a bit then but he was so beat that we decided to wait until today for the interview.

Bohemian was born in Connecticut, but grew up on Long Island, New York, where he swam competitively in high school. He has one parent in Manhattan and another in Mississippi. Bohemian completed 1-½ years of college studying physics at Wesleyan in Connecticut. Classify Bohemian as a young, thoughtful NOBO thru-hiker that left Springer March 5th.
Bohemian says he can’t answer the question of why he’s hiking the AT, but goes on to do a pretty good job. “There’s a million reasons; it’s hard to articulate. To get away, meet interesting folks, to see the country and appreciate the beauty.” 
Bohemian got his trailname after a long philosophical conversation sitting around a campfire. A young lady pegged him as unconventional, a nonconformist, and a free spirit. I guess it’s inevitable that every generation goes through the same trials; some take it further down the trail. I could not help thinking about the Existentialists back in the “Beat” era of the Sixties, the Hippies with beards like Bohemian when everybody else had the close-cropped military flattop haircuts. The Beatniks were unconventional and independents yet collectively often appeared conformist in their unconformity. The mind’s eye still sees visions of free spirits grouped together, traveling aimlessly in old VW busses. The pensive, articulate Bohemian hiked alone but yearned for the friendship and camaraderie of his trail family at the next shelter after a hard day’s hike.

“In the beginning,” Bohemian explains, “the weather was so cold. We pretty much stayed exclusively in the shelters. We needed the body heat to stay warm. I met so many nice people and wanted to see them again at the end of the day.”
“How much weight are you carrying?”
“My base weight, the weight of the pack minus food and water, is maybe 25 pounds. I eat a lot, about three pounds per day. With five days rations it can add another 15 pounds when you hike out after resupplying.”
“Do you like the packaged meals available at the outfitters?”
“They’re good, but I need two of them for a meal. If it is labeled that it feeds four, that’s for me. I like the Thai meals but the packaged food is very expensive and I can’t afford it.”

Night Frog (May 23) had mentioned that one hiker had carried a mandolin. It was Bohemian who carried that extra three or 3 1/2 pounds for 900 miles. Ram Bunny, seated at the picnic table catching up on correspondence duties, volunteers, “The mandolin gave a lot of pleasure to those around Bohemian.” I was wrong guessing that the extra weight had induced him to ship it back. Bohemian confides, “Yes, I enjoyed the mandolin, but it became distracting. There’s so much out here to enjoy – you don’t need hobbies. I started to feel obligated to play since I carried the weight.”
“Do you have a camera or other luxuries, Bohemian?”
“Yes, I had a camera and kept a journal, but gave it up after the first month. The journal became just another distraction like the mandolin. I’d much rather live and enjoy what I’m seeing instead of thinking how to describe it at the end of the day.”

“Do you have a deadline to complete the thru-hike,”
“I’m definitely going back to school,” Bohemian answers, “so I want to be off the trail by the first week of August to get ready for the world, to get the fast pace up.” I joke, “Since you’ve decompressed on the trail from the rat race, you now have to ‘compress’ to re-enter.”
Bohemian agrees that thru-hiking is a confidence builder. “Finishing something so big definitely helps give you some confidence, especially since so many things in life you dedicate yourself to and maybe back out.” I thought since he was a handsome lad, perhaps Bohemian had a young lady’s future in mind. Didn’t want to pry further, but couldn’t suppress the thought.
“What do you think about when you are alone walking the trail, Bohemian?”
“Spirituality, how life is going to be, and what some people, different people in my life, what they mean to me. I try to be mindful and experience what’s going on around me without thinking and getting my mind cluttered up by other things going on in my life. Live while I’m living and do other stuff later.”
“Are mice a problem in the shelters?”
He smiles, “Just out of Hot Springs, I hung up my pack and food at the shelter. In the morning I saw a piece of fluff on my pack and a little mouse ran out. I dumped out the pack and junk the size of a basketball came out. A nest was built overnight and a second mouse ran out.” Bohemian looks me in the eye and assures, “But it didn’t bother me. I’m stepping into their world.” He notes, “I also saw a rat the size of a Chihuahua in Shenandoah.”

Gummy Bear is a sectional hiker who started at Pine Grove Furnace State Park in south central Pennsylvania, heading to the northern Pennsylvania terminus of the AT at the Delaware Water Gap. Gummy Bear started May 20 and expects to complete the 167-mile section on or about June 5th. 
Gummy Bear has been a section hiker since 1997.  “It was a real hot day when I left Springer that year. I had gummy bears, a candy, in my pack and started sucking on them for moisture.”  The trailname stuck. Gummy Bear plans to thru-hike in 2005, and write a book about illustrations from nature.

“My wife and I are co-pastors of the Beneva Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Sarasota, Florida. I got started hiking taking church youth groups into the Smokies. The Appalachian Trail goes through the Smokies, and we took the side trails. The AT was always calling me.” A secondary calling in his life, I quip.
“While hiking,” Gummy relates, “I got the idea for a sermon called Rocks, Rocks, Rocks.  I’ve traipsed over a lot of rocks on the AT, and there’s a lot of rocks in the Holy Land, too.” Gummy Bear plans to load a few boxes with hundreds of rocks to pass out to his parishioners for effect.
“Do you have any luxuries?”
 “I have an instamatic camera. And baby wipes are wonderful. Bandanas, too. I lost my cellphone two days ago.”
“Gummy Bear, what do you miss most while on the AT?”
“I miss my wife and church most.”

“Gummy Bear, will you help me with trail jargon, help me build a glossary?”
“Have you heard of ‘PUDS?’ It stands for pointless ups and downs. This means a hill or mountain that you must climb that has no scenic view, no water source, no shelter and no attraction. Then there’s a slogan to help you get uphill.  Lord, you pick them up and I’ll put them down.”
“Thanks, Gummy.”
“Have you heard ‘trail magic’?”
“Yes, but can you define it?”
“A serendipitous surprise. Like that hot day I came to a road crossing and a couple returning from an outing served me homemade ice cream with fresh strawberries and whipped cream. Or the caretaker whose house is close to the shelter who offers a cooler of sodas.”
Gummy Bear’s on a roll now and inquires, “Did you ever hear the term ‘aqua blaze’? That’s when non-purist folks rent canoes and float down the Shenandoah River for a few days toward Harpers Ferry. They put in at Shenandoah River State Park and exercise their arms for a change.”
Gummy Bear continues, “There’s another expression I like for a rainy day. It is ‘soft days’ which is an old Irish phrase that describes the fog and mist as looking soft. It helps you accept the rain better.”

DaleAmerica derived his trailname from a Seinfeld character’s flippant remark. DaleAmerica tells me, “I was too busy to give Seinfeld a hand. The Kramer character told Seinfeld ‘I’m too busy - I’ve got a major corporation to run – KramerAmerica.’ I just changed the corporate name.”  
DaleAmerica is doing a thru-hike NOBO with his older buddy Lil Engine. DaleAmerica says, “I’ll be 53 in August.” The pair started February 6th, but each had to take a few weeks off for family obligations. “In 2000, we started a thru-hike together, but I had a medical problem and had to get off.”
DaleAmerica is a retired U.S. Navy Master Chief Hospital Corpsman with 24 1/2 years service who started with the Marines and shipped over with the Seals in Special Ops. Then he went to work for the Navy as a civilian teaching aviators how to survive in the water if they had to ditch.

“Do you indulge yourself with any luxuries?”
“I carry a radio that picks up NOAA weather reports and TV audio in addition to the regular AM/FM broadcasts. I also keep a brief log just to identify the photographs I take. My pack is a just 24 pounds with four days food.”
“That’s rather light. How many miles do you usually hike per day?”
Dale America responds, “My biggest day was 34 miles yesterday. I usually travel 15 to 20 miles depending on the terrain. And I use the shelters quite often because I’m ahead of the pack. In bad weather I use the shelters to keep the gear dry.”

Yes, Lil Engine, got his name from the “I think I can, I think I can” children’s story. “Two year’s ago, I needed that. I was heavy and puffin’ like that Lil Engine trying to get up the hill. Now I’m in good shape.” He’s thru-hiking again this year with DaleAmerica.  In 2000, he thru-hiked with his wife who works for L.L. Bean in Maine. They live in Standish, Maine, and Lil Engine is retired from a paper company.
Lil Engine reports, “My wife and I are also ‘peak baggers.’”  I misheard and thought the term had something to do with shoveling peat moss. Wrong. They hiked or climbed the 100 highest peaks in New England.  “It only took us two years and one month,” he announces proudly.  “You can only hike in summer months from June to October.”

Goback lives on a farm in Heston, Pennsylvania, near Raystown Lake. Goback started March 22, 2002, from Springer to Erwin, Tennessee. “The trail became so crowded I leapfrogged up to Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, and am hiking on to Katahdin. Then I’m going back to Erwin, and northward to finish at Harpers Ferry.”
Goback did sectional hikes in 1997, 1998 and 1999. In 1997, he kept forgetting his water bottle and repeatedly had to go back for it. Goback succeeded in transforming one three-mile stretch into a 12-mile hike. In 1998, he started a thru-hike, incurred an injury forcing him to temporarily skip Virginia. He returned the following year to complete the section through that Commonwealth.

Goback likes solitude but laments, “Anybody can break the solitude because there are so many trailheads for the weekenders, day hikers, et cetera.”  Trailheads are the points of access to the AT. Goback says, “There are too many voices in the shelters, sometimes 40 people. I carry a tent, but will use a shelter if it’s raining. I don’t lay over in a shelter even if it is raining.”
“Do you allow yourself any luxuries?”
“Yes, I have a Thermorest 20 degree down sleeping bag, cigarettes and a big container of coffee.”
“What do you do for a living, Goback? Where did you go to college?”
“I went to Penn State for Forestry, but it blossomed into sidelines such as nursery and horticultural work.  Support from some great friends back home looking out for me makes it possible for me to hike.” Goback reports, “I’m 48. I’ve lived life and it’s helped me grow on the trail.” Goback offers a final observation on the AT. “It teaches patience and consideration for others; hopefully, it will be returned.”

I speak to Goback two days later, Memorial Day morning, as he is leaving Duncannon. He tells me about one lesson he learned the hard way from a previous hike at the nearby Clarks Ferry Shelter.
“I woke up at 3:00 AM. I heard something scratching about 10 feet away, scratching my pack.  I unzipped the tent, shined a light and yelled and growled.  A bear ran, stopped and looked back.  His eyes were about a foot apart! The bear had scratched and ripped the pack cover that contained a used, empty baggy with residue of trailmix.  I’ve learned to keep the used baggies with the food bag, separate from the pack.”  Goback later talked to a Ridgerunner who said it was a big bear weighing about 550 pounds. Goback goes on, “Beyond the Smokies and Shenandoah, I keep the food bag and pack in the tent. Up here, in the north, they hunt bear.”

May 27 – Memorial Day.  Willie, Haywire, Amtrack and Hammock Hanger. 

(Willie) 

 (Haywire)

(Amtrack & Hammock Hanger)

 Spotted Willie passing through Duncannon when he exited the pizza parlor. Willie is thru-hiking NOBO and departed Springer March 5th.
“What’s your trailname?”
“Willie. I often wear a bandanna and some people think I look like a young Willie Nelson.”
“Where are you from, Willie?”
“Nashville, Tennessee. I’m hiking under the influence- of Jack Kerouac – and his book On the Road.”
“Are you going to college?”
“I finished three semesters at Harding University in Arkansas; I’m thinking of psychology as a major.”
“How old are you and why are you thru-hiking?”
“I’m 20. A friend at college, Slips, told me he was going to do the AT. I promised Slips, ‘I’ll go with you.’”
“How are you financing this hike, Willie?”
“I worked at a restaurant at school and at a nursing home in my hometown. I also saved my birthday and Christmas money.”
“Did you spend much on gear?”
“Only about $300 to $400.”
Willie is hiking barefooted in Chaco sandals. “I hike in them; I have no shelter shoes.” When I mention that I heard the next ten miles are thick with poison ivy, he nonchalantly says, “I’d better wear socks.”

Willie volunteers, “I’m a Christian and read my Bible a lot in the tent. I only stayed in a shelter five or six times, but I camp near the shelters because that’s where the water sources are. I try to reach my campsite by 5:00 PM so I have time to read.”
“Do you carry other books or have any luxuries?”
“I have Jack Kerouac’s Desolation Angels, Tolkien’s The Hobbit, and a book of quotes that my sister gave me. After I got in shape, I pack one can of Coke. I also have a Rambo knife - my signature. I had a Canon Rebel camera but sent it home after the first week before I got in shape. It was too heavy. Now I have a disposable substitute. I keep a pretty thick leather journal, too.”
“What’s your favorite trail meal?”
“Oriental Ramen with a pack of tuna,” adding, “and up here, Tastykakes.”
“Willie, can you throw out a bit of trail jargon that I can include in a glossary?”
"Ring of Fire.”
“And what does it mean?”
A bit sheepishly, “Chafing. A lot of people wear spandex shorts to help with the chafing.”
“Willie, what do you think about while you are hiking alone on the trail?”
“When it’s tough physically, I zone out and think of an entire album of one of my favorite artists and go through it song by song. When it’s easy walking, I’m hoping things will be OK with my friends and I think of childhood memories, my brothers and sister. It’s tough on Sunday mornings. I know the whole family is worshipping together in church.”

A short time later sitting in the Pub, a tall, wiry dark-haired hiker with a quizzical look comes in wearing his pack.  He has heard the Doyle Hotel is closed and planned to stay overnight. Confusion and incorrect rumors are floating down the trail and landing in some shelter registers.  Only the tavern portion of the Doyle, not the hotel operation, is temporarily closed. We telephone the Doyle and arrange a room for the former Israeli army tank gunner. But first he quaffs a cold beer. He had hoped for a Tuborg, but settled for a draft of Yuengling Lager.
We walk south one block to the Doyle, go back the alley about 50 feet and up the wide wooden steps to the balcony.  Around the corner of the “L” shaped balcony is the second story door and night entry. While Amtrack checks in and showers, I turn to the gentleman seated at the picnic table on the corner of the balcony.

Haywire is doing a NOBO thru-hike with a flipflop. He’s 40 years old from Atlanta, and a first-timer; just did day hikes. “My trailname originated with a 1920s hobo-singer named Harry ‘Haywire’ McClintock who did Big Rock Candy Mountain.”
“When was day one?”
“I started about May 10th three shelters south of Harpers Ferry and I’m going to Maine. Then I’ll flip-flop back to Harpers Ferry to Georgia, ending at home.”
Haywire has a limp.
Grinning, he says, “Everybody passes me. I just pull over to the right. My ankle is healed now, but I had nine bad days.”
“How did you get so crazy? Why are you doing this?”
“I was a casualty of the dot com implosion or meltdown. The economy will probably pick back up by the time I finish.  I was a CTO, Chief Technology Official, responsible for all the computers.  They flew me all over the world to fix computers.”
Intrigued, I ask, “Where did you go to school?”
“I went to so many schools,” Haywire chuckles, “Started out in nuclear engineering but then TMI happened and I switched majors. Call me an electrical engineer. In the late 70s, early 80s, I was at Georgia Tech, several schools. I had the Wanderlust.”
“Haywire, do you favor the shelters?”
“Chance favors a prepared mind. If it rains, I stay in a shelter, but I carry a tent and a hammock that weighs just one-half pound.”
“Do you indulge yourself with luxuries?”
“I have two books and I like to read Greek mythology. The Iliad, the Odyssey and their gods and how they functioned in their society.”
“Do you speak foreign languages?”
“In the South, they don’t emphasize foreign languages. I’d learn Spanish if I had to learn one.”

Amtrack wears a blue bandanna over his head and sports a dark beard. Amtrack is doing a thru-hike NOBO.  He did the approach trail to Springer and started February 27th. He’ll be 23 years old in June and plans to study computer science at the University of Tel Aviv.

Amtrack served three years in the Israeli army. “At 18 years, it is mandatory. The girls may serve only 18 months, but if they choose combat then they must do the full three years. My first year and a half were in tanks. I was a gunner on a Chariot, Mark II, Merkava. In winter, it is very cold inside a metal tank.”  Amtrack continues, “I did a year community service in a kibbutz. The last half-year, I escorted school busses in the Jordan River Valley; it was hotter than hell.”

Why are you hiking the AT?
“While I was in the army, I read a newspaper article.”
“Are you hiking alone, Amtrack?”
“I’ve hiked a lot with Glacier, who is about three days behind, and Hammock Hanger.”
“Do you speak other foreign languages?”
“Hebrew, English and I studied Arabic, just their literature, but they laugh when I try to speak it.”
“What do you miss most?”
“My friends and family. I call home to my parents with a phone card.”
“Do you carry any luxury items?”
“Just an MP3 CD player. It’s well worth the extra 1-½ pound weight. I use a pack of batteries per day, and also have the Hobbit on CD.”
“What do you think about on the trail?”  
Amtrack replies, “I think in English and it annoys me that I do. I think about my friends and what I’ll do when I get home.”

Hammock Hanger started a NOBO thru-hike on April Fool’s Day in 2001. It was interrupted.  
“A doctor in Pearisburg, Virginia, x-rayed my foot and found an encapsulated sewing needle. It’s still there. If they operated it would explode and leave chards. The doctor said for it to heal, I must stop hiking. I told him that is not an option.” The foot problem prevented her from finishing the thru-hike last year.
“Why are you thru-hiking and enduring the pain?”
“I was pulled to the AT. It’s the cream of hiking, the thing to do. I love to be out there. I’ve been teaching backpacking to youth groups for years.”
“Where’s your hometown?”
“I grew up in Connecticut, but I’ve lived in Palm Beach, Florida, for 22 years. I was an administrator of an Alzheimer clinic for 15 years.”
“Tell me about yourself, Hammock Hanger.”
“I’m married with four grown children, three girls and the youngest, a boy, is 19 years. I now live in the Jacksonville area.”

It is now the next day, Tuesday, May 28th, the mercury is climbing with the humidity. The sky is chalky white. The setting is The Pub just after the noon hour. Amtrack and Hammock Hanger have their packs resting on the floor in the corner. They need to resupply before shoving off. We drive up the hill to Mutzies, or Mutzabaugh’s Market.

Amtrack is tired of rice and finds Lipton’s noodles. Hammock Hanger points out the new oriental line. I have been in the store thousands of times but am clueless where the foil packages of tuna are hiding. I didn't realize that tuna came in any other container than a can. They delight in finding it. Hammock looks for a small container of wet wipes, but Mutzies only has the heavier, larger quantities. The pharmacy next door stocks the smaller packages. Back at the Pub, the two packrats busily remove excess packaging and stuff their food bags pausing occasionally to taste an item or two – I guess to lighten the load. The bartender, Shannon, disposes of the leftover wrappings. They bid adieu heading north and across the Susquehanna River toward Peters Mountain.

Changing venue, I join Haywire on the balcony of the Doyle. He’s hobbled with a sore ankle and foot.  Haywire’s thinking about Ibuprofen and how to arrange leapfrog transportation to Delaware Water Gap. A hiker comes into view from the south and we invite him to lighten his load and join us in the shade.

May 28. Klymer.

Klymer climbs the old wooden stairs and plops down with a smile. He’s an hour or so ahead of a buddy, Advil. Low on funds, Klymer asks directions to the campground along the river beyond the town. Klymer is from Bangor, Maine, doing a thru-hike NOBO. Day One was March 4th. I tell him about Duncannon’s famous 3-B ice cream store located up the main street, but he isn’t interested. “I’m still stuffed with ice cream from doing that half-gallon challenge back at Pine Grove Furnace,” he says with a groan.
“Did you also do the Maryland Challenge?”
“No,” was the response.
“How did you get your trailname?”
“I was in a shelter,” he begins, “and it’s raining. So I started to climb around inside to expend some energy and they began calling me ‘Klymer.’”
“Why are you hiking the AT?”
“I love the outdoors and traveling. And the intrigue of it all.”
“Were you active in sports?” I prod.
Proudly, “I was soccer team captain. I went to a private boarding school in New Hampshire, and I did rock climbing, too.”
Haywire interjects, “Soccer, that’s basketball on a football field. A lot of running.”

“Klymer, what do you think about on the AT while you are picking them up and putting them down?”
“I think about my girlfriend.”
I kid him that that is a good safe answer.
Klymer’s going to Colby-Sawyer College in New London, New Hampshire, and isn’t sure of his major. “I’m still thinking about it,” and adds emphatically, “but nothing that will lead to a desk job!”
“Do you allow yourself any luxuries?”
“Yes,” he answers quickly.  “A mini-disc player. I have three rechargeable batteries and an adapter. I go a day and a half without changing batteries. I brought five mini-discs and it all weighs about two pounds.”
“Anything else? A camera or books?”
“Yeah, I have a camera and now and then I pick up a Reader’s Digest.”
Klymer goes on to relate that he uses shelters because he only carries a little tarp. He had no scary moments and never had a problem with mice in the shelters. “Mice never bothered me at all. I must have good karma,” he says with a grin.
“I’ve hiked with at least five different groups of people.” Klymer explains how you pass some people, or you or they get off the trail or do a side trail and get separated. Klymer does about 20 miles per day.
“Klymer, can you help with trail terminology for a glossary?”
“Have you heard ‘slack pack’ before?”
“No, can you define it?”
“Well, it’s when you don’t carry a full pack, just your day’s provisions, and usually a trail angel transports the rest of your gear ahead.”
I wonder how often or where ‘slack packing’ is likely to occur and resolve to ask other hikers.
Klymer leaves his pack on the balcony in our charge and takes leave to grab some chow down the street. About an hour later, as he returns for his pack, Advil is approaching the Doyle. We do introductions and they go off.  Regret not taking Advil’s photograph and learning his experiences; there was something about him that makes me believe I missed a good story.

May 29.  The Dude, Skywalker, Balance and The Ant.

 Wednesday is a muggy, high ‘hummididity’ day. The Dude steps out of the pizza parlor with Skywalker following. The pair is headed straight through Duncannon and on to Peters Mountain and beyond.
“Can you spare a few minutes to tell me about your hike? Let’s go back inside for another soda.”
Both youngsters were thru-hiking together NOBO since Day One - March 13th. They are from Marblehead, Massachusetts. Skywalker, 20 years old, is a Star Wars fan and The Dude’s trailname is taken from the character in another film, The Big Lebowski. When not hiking the AT, The Dude, 19 years old, is attending the University of Vermont engaged in Environmental Studies. He ought to receive extra credit for doing the AT.

“What compelled you to hike the AT?”
Skywalker answers, “I decided to take a year off to try to figure what I want to do with my life – I think a liberal arts education will be best for me.”
Skywalker continues, “We were camp counselor’s in New Hampshire. We walked the Whites a lot.”
The Dude adds, “In the Whites we saw AT hikers at the cross trails and talked to them. I did research on the Internet and learned a lot in the chat rooms for the AT planning. Last year, from September to December 1, I went to Ecuador, Costa Rico and Panama. I hiked across Costa Rico, scuba dived and surfed in Panama and did high mountain ascents to 14,000 feet in Ecuador. I tried but didn’t quite make it the top of a volcano called Cotopaxi. It was 19,800 feet.”

Both are active in sports and they like soccer and baseball. The Dude is on the ultimate Frisbee team in college. They still get sore feet, knees, packstraps, the Ring of Fire and sore muscles. The Dude says, “We still get sore feet or something.”
“Did you lug along any luxuries?”
Skywalker discloses, “There’s not much left, but we still have the whiffle ball; we gave up the bat recently. I started with a Styrofoam mannequin’s head, but no longer have it. Used to add features to the head at shelters. I started with 58 pounds and now my pack weighs 25 pounds. I got rid of the dumb stuff. The Q-tips, foot powder, a magnetic board game and the giant head. We were each carrying individual pots and stoves and way too much clothing.”
The Dude relates, “I had five pair of socks and now I’m down to two pair. I started with 50 pounds and am down to 30 pounds.”
Both lads report that they have a camera and a small radio. Each keeps a leather journal, too.

The Dude explains, “I was usually way ahead, but now we wait for each other at stops, like a shelter or overlook. Once when I was in the zone thinking, I missed a cut- off for the shelter. ‘In the zone,’ that’s when you’re hiking but it doesn’t feel like it.”  Sounded analogous to cruise control. The Dude adds, “I think about food, too.”
“What’s your favorite trail food?”
“Chicken Montana,” responds Skywalker. “It’s white rice, a can of chicken, lots of cheese and chicken noodle packets.”

The Ant and Balance came in for pizza as I was talking to the lads. Later, I introduce myself to The Ant and Balance and arrange to chat with them in the evening after they have addressed some chores.

Both are thru-hiking NOBO. He, The Ant, started on March 6th with a schoolmate from the University of Laval in Quebec, Canada.  The Ant has finished three years of forestry studies. Unfortunately, his friend Yoda had a bad Achilles’ tendon and left. “So, for a week,” The Ant says with a slight French accent, “I hiked alone until I met Balance at Hot Springs.”

Balance left Springer on March 1. She was born and raised in California. She says in reference to her trailname, “ I am not, but I will be in balance; I’m determined to be in balance. I am not real graceful.” Spoken like a lawyer; she’s attending law school, the University of California Berkeley School of Law (Boalt Hall). Balance is a 1999 graduate of Swarthmore College who majored in Political Science with a minor in Music. Balance is in balance playing the bassoon and the recorder and she sang with the chorus.
“I enjoy Renaissance church music.” 
“Do you write poetry, Balance?”
“I like Shakespearean sonnets and carry a few random pages of poetry.”

The Ant, 24 years old, points out, “Quebecers go to the White’s in Maine and New Hampshire to hike.” That’s how the Ant got the AT bug although he doesn’t like ticks.
“Do you keep a diary or journal?”
“Yes, I write to my journal for each day but only twice a week. I also give Balance a French lesson every day.”
“How did you prepare or train for this ordeal?”
Balance answers, “I have friends who did the AT. I only did three days of backpacking and a few overnight hikes in preparation.”
The Ant takes his leave to check on the laundry.
“Balance can you help me with trail terminology for a glossary?”
She asks, “Vitamin I? That’s Ibuprofen.  And Georgia M & M’s? That’s Advil.”
“Balance, do you usually stay in the shelters?”
“We usually tent and average about 15 to 20 miles a day. I started with 45 pounds and have sent home the winter gear like the rain pants, the fleece and jackets.”
Responding to the interrogatories, she explains, “I keep a journal and record ‘the did this and the did that’s.’ I also have a tiny 35mm camera and I call home in every town.”
The Ant returns. I ask questions. He answers. “I think about nature, the view. I am just enjoying the present moment. It’s not complicated. The brain is off while hiking. I now carry 35 pounds with five days food. Originally, it was 50 to 55 pounds, but I had winter gear. With Balance we carried double and have saved weight by sending the duplicates back.”
“Do you have any luxuries in your pack?”
“Just my special Swiss chocolate, Toblerone. And my parents send maple syrup candies and some French language news.”  The Ant likes music - rock, classical rock and classical. “I have a book, Clan of the Cave Bears by Jean M. Auel.”

“Did you experience any scary moments?”
The Ant dichotomizes, “There’s the short term and the long term scary. In the long term it’s ticks. About Pearisburg, Virginia, I saw the first ticks, but they were just big black ones that you can feel and flick off. Near Boiling Springs, Pennsylvania, about three-day’s ago at the AT Center, I read up on ticks and started body examinations. I realized it is worse and can be bad. I worry more.”
As to the short term scary, The Ant relates, “At Big Bald Summit with its treeless meadows, I was caught in a thunderstorm at the highest elevation with my hiking poles and the lightning crackling. One bolt struck 20 feet in front. I ran to the left into the rocks and forest and waited until the thunderstorm passed. The lesson I learned is to stay away from a bald summit in a storm.”
“Do you think of the future?” I ask The Ant.
“I want to stay in forestry and stay outside. I am worried that life might be too boring just going to school. I love the AT; there’s no good reason to leave the trail other than family and friends.”

May 30.  Mooch, Huck, Christopher Robin and Moonchild.

 

The three are traveling together and staying at the Doyle. Huck and Christopher Robin are thru-hiking NOBO and started March 17 and 18th, respectively. Technically, Mooch is doing long sectionals. He started Springer March 18, and left the AT at Erwin, Tennessee, going home for a bit. Mooch met Huck three weeks later at Troutville, Virginia, and is going to Katahdin.
Mooch is from Massachusetts and studying at Carleton College in Minnesota. Huck is from Arlington, Virginia, and taking a semester off from his English major at Bates College in Lewiston, Maine. Christopher Robin, the oldest, a 31-year geologist, graduated from Edinboro University, Pennsylvania. 

Mooch, who dislikes his moniker, explains, “I started with about 25 pounds and am now up to 30 to 35 pounds because I didn’t carry much food – hence the trailname.”
Huck explains the origin of Mooch’s trailname differently. “I found Mooch at mile 30 carrying Granola bars and Cous-Cous. At meal time he was always saying ‘Do you think I can have some of that sausage and crackers?’”
Mooch takes a friendly jab at the English major. “Huck diagrams sentences while he’s hiking,” insinuating he’s a little crazy.  “And he writes stories, poems and funny play by plays of life in the shelters.” I ask Huck, a creative writing major, if he can jot down one of his poems from memory into the logbook to insert on these pages.  Huck, put on the spot, obliges off the top of his head. Yes, Huck’s trailname relates to Mark Twain’s adventurous character.

Thunder Storms in the Woods

The lighting cracks across the sky
Like the veins mark the back of your hand
The heat alights on a small branch –
A birch leaning against the blackened sky.
Sparks jump, pirouette from limb to limb.
The granite shoulders of the mounts
Do little to protect us – myself and the like.
We sit vulnerable, alone in the woods,
Hoping we will not burn to the ground,
Hoping we will make it to the end.

Printed with kind permission granted by Huck.

Christopher Robin grew up in Pittsburgh, but lately has been living in California working as an environmental consultant. “I’ve been thinking about my youth and what I want to do when I return to society. I am moving to D.C. I’m trying to find myself. Shall I continue consulting or make a new career choice?” He muses aloud, “My choices change daily, but I’ve got it narrowed down to continuing with the geology, starting a B&B with an organic farm or doing commercial investment.”
“So, you’re a consultant.”
“I’ve been doing environmental work for companies and covering their mistakes for over five years. So, if I am going to sell out I might as well make money,” he grins.
Christopher Robin discloses he is a vegetarian and explains why he considers an organic farm an option. “Marine Corps chow is beyond human consumption. That’s the reason I became a vegetarian.”  But he adds, “I loved the Corps and am glad I did it; I’d give my life for it. It was a different time in my life and I am who I am now. Semper Fi to my fellow brothers!”

“Does your trailname have anything to do with a Pooh character?”
“Mooch is partly the reason. We started the same day and were interlapping through Georgia. Two trail families were mingling. We’d see each other during the day and listen to gossip. Mooch was adamant saying, ‘I’m not a Mooch!’ I’m thinking, ‘What are they going to call me?’  Well, I was walking with Misty Mountain and Sherpa Turkey. Looking back at Misty I asked the name of the little boy with Winnie the Pooh. Misty said, ‘OK, you’re Christopher Robin.’ Sherpa seconded it.”

“Did you guys do anything special to prepare for the AT?”
Huck’s answer surprises me. “I put on 10 pounds – I thought it would do me well in the cold.”
Christopher Robin also said he gained weight. “I ran the LA Marathon two weeks prior to the AT and didn’t train, but ate and gained weight.” Speaking of weight, Christopher Robin notes, “I started with 58 pounds for this my first long- distance hike and I did what the workbook said. You don’t need a compass and all the maps and a lot of other stuff. I sent stuff back and am down to 45 pounds.”  Rather derisively, he mentions, “You don’t need four pair of socks and liners, or four pairs of underwear, et cetera. You only need what you have on your back and put your raingear on to wash.”
Huck laughs. “Zero underwear. I hike in a skirt.”
“Do you mean a kilt, Huck?”
Smiling, Huck tells the tale. “A kilt would cost $80, so I bought this woman’s 2X muumuu at the Dollar Store for $4. I cut it in half and sewed it in half, but it was chafing my shoulder. I cut off the top and sewed it with dental floss. And, I sewed a little belt into it too.”

The vegetarian Christopher Robin remarks, “I lost 15 pounds so far on the AT.”
I glance to the other two.
Mooch says, “I weigh the same.”
Huck volunteers, “I gained 10 pounds. In terms of exercise, I’m not exercising more now on the AT. I used to be a vegetarian and I started eating meat before I went on the trail. I eat everything I see.”
Christopher Robin, the purist, interjects, “I stayed true to being a vegetarian.”

“Luxuries. Yes, I carry a Frisbee; used to have two,” admits Huck.
Mooch says, “ I threw one off the cliff.”
Huck, “And I carried a dictionary for two days.”
Christopher Robin reports, “A paperback book. I have The Monkey Wrench Gang by Edward Abbey.”
Mooch, “I cut War and Peace into four sections and Mom sends a new section with cookies. I also have a big 35mm Nikon camera.”
“How much do you spend?”
Huck leads off, “I’m probably going to spend $4,000 including gear.”
“That’s about $2 per mile.”
Mooch has no idea. “I am still a dependent and have my parents pay for my food.”  He pulls out his Dad’s, dear old Dad’s, credit card.
Christopher Robin joins in. “I budget $40 per week.  Some weeks I spend more and some less.”
Huck queries, “Did you include prepaid food drops in that figure?”
Christopher Robin quickly agrees, “No, I didn’t include the cost of mail drop food.”

All three agree that Damascus, Virginia, and Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, were the best trail towns so far.  “Everything is right there, whatever you need, so close and compact.  But it depends on the people you meet and the music.” At that moment some good vibes are blaring from the jukebox making it difficult to hear the answers forcing some repetition. The background noise excuse helps the author who doesn’t use shorthand.
Huck volunteers, “I was at the Laundromat and the change machine ate my dollar. I was telling this to another hiker at Jodi’s Diner and a customer insisted that I take his dollar. He told me, ‘I don’t want Duncannon to get a bad reputation.’”

Proudly, Huck starts a story, “Between Daleville and Waynesboro in Virginia, four of us managed to get drunk six of the seven nights. Christopher Robin was not imbibing. He had moved ahead to meet his Mom for Mother’s Day. We had the Nalgene bottle filled with rum and another time, Scotch. Two trail angels had beer they purchased at a gas station. Another night we found a bottle of vodka someone left at the shelter. We mixed it with Tang.”

“Help me with trail jargon for a glossary.”
Huck suggests, “Vitamin R. That’s Ramen noodles. Yellow blazes. That’s hitchhiking ahead about 20 miles.”
Continuing, “I aqua blazed in the Shenandoahs from south of Luray to Front Royal. Aqua blazers are not non-purists. You’re still hanging out in the woods and moving by your own power.”
Christopher Robin declares, “I am a purist, and I hit every blaze, but I don’t have anything against the people that don’t do it as long as they admit it.”
“What is your idea of a good trail meal?”
Christopher Robin relates, “The best food is Ramen and four cheese mashed potato flakes.  It’s to die for. The whole thing is real cheap and filling. I take a one a day vitamin before I eat.”

The conversation turns to blazes. Christopher Robin observes, “In the south the blazes are hand painted which makes them easier to see at night and it is more environmentally safe because you are not using aerosol spray. Crossing the Mason-Dixon Line into Pennsylvania, the blazes weren’t clear and you ended up going south. In the south from Georgia to Pennsylvania, whenever you came upon a double blaze, they are offset to indicate which way the trail goes.”
“Can you draw a picture?”
“Two white vertical blazes, one above the other, a double blaze, indicates an obscure turn or change of direction which might not otherwise be noticed. In Pennsylvania, the double blazes are straight up, i.e. not offset, and sometimes have a small white arrow pointing left or right. In the south, the top vertical blaze is offset to the left or right to indicate the direction to hike.”
The Appalachian Trail Guide for Pennsylvania contains an explanatory note,  “Watch out for the white paint boundary markings of the Michaux State Forest Lands, which cross the A. T. and are similar to A. T. blazes, causing some confusion.  The latter are 2” X 6” and face the hiker.  The others are quite irregular.”

Moonchild returns to the Doyle with clean laundry and agrees to chat later at the Pub. He’s from northeast Pennsylvania, near Waverly. Moonchild is 27 years old, and a Penn State radio astronomy grad. Not surprisingly, he’s into Astro Geology and Earth Systems.
An inspirational author of the thru-hiking book 10 Million Steps, Nimblewill Nomad, suggested he take the name Moonchild. Moonchild is thru-hiking NOBO.
“When did you start?” 
“Day One was March 24, and I did the 8.8-mile approach from Amicalola Falls.”
“You’re moving pretty fast, Moonchild.”
“I’m averaging over 20 miles per day. I only took zero days for the Trail Days festivities.”
“What was your biggest day?”
 “My longest day was 33.7 miles.”
Moonchild relates, “Since I was a little kid, I did portions of the nearby AT. I was also active in sports - swimming, diving, and track and field in high school.” Moonchild also is versed in martial arts.

“What does an astro geologist ponder while hiking?” 
Moonchild describes one day’s fascinating thoughts. “The sun is burning hydrogen and converting it into helium. It is so bright and hot and it’s bonding the elements into helium. Our sun is already at that stage. Through time, it burns up the helium and goes through the element chart. Helium is orange-ish. What would our planet look like if the electromagnetic spectrum advanced to the stage of burning copper? Our sun would be green. I’ve speculated about the effects that would have.”
Moonchild continues describing the Earth’s future, “Plants are green because it gives maximum absorption in the visible spectrum, so if the sun were of a green color, then plants would have to be a violet or reddish or orange color in order to survive.  So to survive over the eons, the plants and trees would have to adapt. Also, animals and human skin would have to change pigmentation. The sky would be an aquamarine.” Moonchild concludes, “Just a day’s thought on the AT.”

Moonchild had his journal open. “What do you record in the journal?”
“I touch on the weather and what I was thinking about that day – the emotions. That’s most important. When you look up and say, ‘Wow’ – feeling emotions. Or when it is hot and I’m tired and miserable after a hard climb and you say ‘Why am I doing this?’ Then all of a sudden you have a rhododendron bloom, or see a hawk flying by, or come to a beautiful vista or the wind blows and pulls sweat right off and gives you a chill, it’s overwhelming. I say to myself, ‘You are lucky.’ It’s the emotional part.”

Moonchild mentions he also writes poetry in the journal. I am not surprised. I ask permission to record a poem of his choosing in these pages and he assents. Here is the quatrain:

Untitled

Always changing,
    And into every day.
So simple to realize,
    Yet hard to figure out.
Printed with kind permission granted by Moonchild.

Among his luxuries he lists a wash cloth, a mini stick of deodorant for in towns, the journal, the Bible, and a 35-mm camera that weighs 2 ½ pounds.  Moonchild relates, “I wear the camera in front to distribute the weight.”
“I’m always looking for glossary material, Moonchild.”
“Have you heard of ‘Freedom Hiking?’ It is the same as slackpacking; you are free from your pack.”

May 31. Stout, HCL and Pip/Hippy.

Friday is a muggy, high 80s day with thunderstorms promised by evening. Haywire and Village Atheist relax on the Doyle balcony. The former’s foot is improving and the latter shoves off northbound tomorrow. A new hiker has arrived and is waiting for Wanda to check him into a room. He is a preacher, a man of the cloth with a ready smile, and he’s heading south. I plan to interview him after he has settled and attended to the laundry detail. The new arrival mentions Gummy Bear suggested that we should chat. I believe his trailname started with an R. As events unfolded, interviews in the air conditioned Pub ran late. Regret missing a promising discussion with the reverend one and forgetting his trailname.

Stout announces, “I had a craving for Guinness Stout. That’s how I got hung with that trailname.” This evening Stout comforts his soul with Yuengling Lager draft. Stout is a thru-hiker NOBO who started March 18. His hometown is Cincinnati, Ohio. He studied art and switched his major to philosophy at Bowling Green University. Stout has found a new major that seems to suit him – Adventure Recreation at Ohio University. Stout is 21.

Stout is the first hiker to insist he never had a foot problem. However, he admits, “ I had a couple minor blisters that required no treatment. I wasn’t planning on stopping here in Duncannon since I resupplied at Boiling Springs, but they didn’t have a Laundromat or a cheap place to stay. With all the humidity, I got smelly and needed a shower.” Stout is staying at the $15 (plus tax) per night Doyle. He adds, “And the prices here are unbelievable – 90 cent Happy Hour drafts and just 50 cents to shoot pool! In D.C. last week, it cost $1.50 per game. And a pitcher of the cheapest beer was $11.50. A pitcher of lager here in the Pub is only $6.00.” He is clearly enamored with the Doyle, The Pub and Duncannon.
Stout had taken a little time off visiting Huck’s home in Arlington, Virginia. “There, I took the Metro into D.C and spent a few bucks in a bar on Connecticut Avenue. The D.C. subways and the city is very clean.”

Stout relates, “I’ve been separated from Christopher Robin for three weeks. We started at Springer the same day. I got lazy and have been doing only 10 to 15 miles. I sat down on the trail and read a book.”
“Where on the trail?”
“At the Darlington Shelter, about 13 miles southwest of Duncannon on Blue Mountain.”
Christopher Robin waited today in Duncannon, and Stout caught up. Huck and Mooch continued north.

“Stout, can you explain your hiking strategy?” 
“I go from town to town to cut food weight. When I make schedule, I use shelter to shelter to set a goal or else I wouldn’t know when to stop. I’d just hike till I dropped. I don’t always sleep in shelters; just hang a tarp.”
“Why are you hiking the AT?” 
“I get distracted easily and I need time away from the masses, time to think. I thought about the trail since 7th grade. I sorted through myself and came up with a new reason every day.”
“What do you think about on the trail?”
“Sometimes I’m day dreaming and sometimes having philosophical arguments with myself.”
Stout is knowledgeable of Socrates and Descartes. “I ask myself, ‘How do I know that’s true?’ I analyze my present, my past and the future. Everything I can possibly think of I have. I’m interested in my mind and self-analysis.”
Stout finds the trail or shelter journals interesting. “I leave a quote from anything that is not associated with the AT, or write some random thing.  For instance, here is a Henry Miller quote from Tropic of Cancer: ‘The only thing that stands between me and a future is a meal, another meal.’ You can get an idea of the personalities of the hikers from their registry entries.”
He shows me the hardbound journal that he keeps. “I write thoughts, not about the actual trail, and I write poetry. Literature is the core of my life, but I suck at it. I keep on trying hoping eventually I’ll learn how to write.”  Stout insists discipline is required, “If you have it, its half the battle. I hope to learn discipline on the trail. I force myself to sit down and write.”

Stout, with a robust red beard, goes on to describe the AT. “I didn’t realize the AT was so social, like living on campus. I’m not anti-social, but the past two months I’ve walked by myself and have my solitude. I meet up with people at night. At the shelter I can’t write because I don’t have privacy. Last week though, I had separation and had privacy, but then I missed people.”

The dining area was beginning to fill up. Stout and I were hogging up a large table with our assorted journals, logs, papers and maps when a trail couple enters. They accept an offer to join us.
HCL and his perky trail companion, Pip/Hippy, order Pubburgers and a pitcher of lager. HCL is a thru-hiker NOBO and left Springer March 14.
“Pip/Hippy joined me at the Pine Grove Furnace Hostel, which has a historical connection with the Underground Railroad. She plans to do about 10 days on the AT.”
If you remember high school chemistry you have a clue about her partner’s trailname. HCL reveals, “I carried a small vial of bleach for disinfecting dishes. The bleach leaked out and ate through my clothes bag and food bag.”

HCL is a political scientist; he has earned a degree from the University of Washington in Seattle. His minor was history. He’s on the AT as one of those in-betweeners, that brief period of time before a recent grad goes on to work in the salt mines or attends grad school.
“I will probably study political science or law at the University of Florida.”
HCL remarks, “I had a window of opportunity. And there does seem to be age pockets of hikers. There are many students, retired persons and people between jobs.”
“Where is your hometown, HCL?”
“Destin, Florida.”
The AT seed was planted for HCL with his involvement in the scouts. “I did extensive section hikes.”
Discussion turns to the reasons people drop out, and HCL observes, “A lot drop out at the [psychological] half-way point at Harpers Ferry.  It’s funny, at the start you can pick out the people who you think will make it. It’s a microcosm of society.”
Pip/Hippy interjects, “A certain amount is mental.”
They agree the reason for failure is more mental than physical.
Stout concludes, “Discipline and a smile is necessary to succeed.”
Pip concludes, “One needs the desire to finish.”
“The wonder of the trail wears off after two weeks,” pronounces HCL. “You need to accept the fact that you’re going to be miserable in the rain and cold.”
Pip adds, “You learn to appreciate the simplicity of life – and food.”
With a reference to the bedraggled appearance of most hikers as they shuffle into towns, HCL throws out a saying he’s heard since Georgia, “The only difference between the homeless and hikers is Gore-Tex.”  Then one of them adds, “Your home is on your back.”
HCL observes, “When you walk into town it feels like you are some alien being. And some towns are more receptive to hikers. In Hot Springs, the trail was recently rerouted through the town, and the town folks are just getting used to seeing hikers.”

“Mice are the worst problem on the trail,” HCL opines. “There is so much food and refuse around the shelters.”
Stout jumps in, “I forgot to take one candy bar wrapper out of my packet and found mouse shit.”
“The AT is a highway,” declares Stout referring to the increased numbers of hikers on the trail.
As Pip/Hippy slips away to do some chores, HCL inspires us with a quote. “To be successful you must walk with the common man and dine with the kings.”  I think, yes, a humble man is a likable man.
HCL, almost wistfully, says, “What I like best about the AT is there are so many fascinating people and their different stages of life. Hikers can’t leave the trail without changing for the better, becoming a better person.” HCL confides, “In the beginning, I was worried how was I going to get by? Or worried would I get stuck without food? But things work out.”
Stout nods and says, “The AT is a good metaphor for life.”

“I carry a small radio,” HCL tells me, “for the music and to be connected to the world and news.” That’s not surprising for a political science major to desire to be advised on current events.  He listens to All Things Considered on National Public Radio.
Stout mentions that on Memorial Day he learned a lot about current events from the numerous day and the weekend hikers.
HCL, still thinking a bit philosophically, “I threw out my itinerary. It will drive you crazy staying so rigid.” Then he adds a seemingly contrary statement, “I wear a watch.” Quickly he explains with good logic, “I don’t want to go into town on a Sunday when the post office is closed.”
The hour is now past ten. As we begin to depart, Stout offers one last quotation, “Katahdin is not a destination; the journey is the destination.”


Next - June 2002 - Northbound Herd Approaches Duncannon