Final Thoughts

So, Matt, how was the trip? Was it worth it?

Yes, it was. Absolutely. An incredible experience. Looking back now, I'm disappointed I put this off for so long. It was pretty much what I had hoped it would be - and even better than that.

Ever since college, I've occasionally daydreamed about being a vagabond, and this will be the closest I'll come to that sort of lifestyle. Everything I needed to live was on my back. Most days, I didn't know where I would sleep that night. If I was feeling social, I could camp at a shelter, and have the company of whoever else happened to be staying there. If I wanted to be alone, I would find two trees and hang my hammock and enjoy some peace and quiet.

It sounds a bit cliché, but it really was incredibly freeing to not be loaded down with the rest of my possessions. I carried everything I needed to stay alive and little else. Now that I'm back home, I am overwhelmed by all of the stuff in my apartment. Stuff that I will use and enjoy on occasion, but not stuff that I need. Life feels unnecessarily complicated now that I'm off the trail.

At least in my apt complex, people don't talk to each other. You can walk down the sidewalk and pass people, and they won't even glance at you to say hello. That was not at all the case on the trail. Everyone wanted to stop and talk about the weather or how your (or their) hike was going. Everyone was looking out for each other - even though in many cases we barely knew each other. Non-hikers that you met along the trail were just as nice - if not more. They were so impressed with the magnitude (and novelty) of your hike, that they couldn't help but interview you - and occasionally help you out with food or lodging or giving you a ride to/from town.

These are people that I probably never would have talked to if I had met them here in ATL. Some were too sketchy-looking; some were too clean-cut. Off the trail, unfortunately, I tend to gravitate towards other people similar to myself: 20-something, college-educated, way-too-sarcastic. But for the past five weeks, I was so far outside of my comfort zone, it's almost hard to believe. It's something that takes a lot of effort here in the city, but happens completely naturally on the trail.

From AT 2010

Some people take-on the AT for athletic or weight-loss purposes. I met one girl who was hiking the trail because it was one item on her bucket list. Next on her list: an Ironman Triathlon. Her plan was to use the thru-hike as training for the triathlon next year. Pretty much everyone on the trail loses some weight while they're out there. The bigger you are when you start, the more you lose. I met a few guys who lost 30/40 lbs - and that was after just a few weeks on the trail. I lost between five and ten lbs, which is about what I was expecting.

For me, part of the attraction in backpacking is deprivation. In civilization, having a glass of water is nothing special at all - almost a little dull when you have soda or juice or milk available. But out in the wild... you've never tasted better water. After a long day, sweating and cursing the mtn for making you climb it, mixing some koolaid with the water you pumped from the spring next to you campsite is nothing short of mind-blowing. Going without the luxuries we normally take for granted has a way of making you appreciate everything that you have.

For some people, backpacking in the mtns is a way of communing with nature. In my head, I pictured myself coming back from my hike with a renewed appreciation for the wild - a cross between John Muir and Bear Grylls. That didn't really happen. I can't identify what kind of tree or bird that is, but I can tell you that I enjoy it and am glad to be out here in the woods.

During the five weeks I was on the AT, I found myself thinking a lot about stuff off the trail, things that I was going without - books, movies, hot delicious food, soda, warm running water, beer, the list goes on. But now that I'm back, I find myself thinking about the trail. Backpacking may be inconvenient, dirty and incredibly lonely at times, but that's just the price you pay for a simpler and more peaceful way of life.

If anyone reading this is considering doing a long hike on the AT themselves, I would highly recommend it. This sort of thing isn't for everyone, so it's hard to say. All I can tell you is that it worked for me. Some days are really bad (e.g. bad weather, you're getting sick of your trail food, your body hurts), but in my experience, the bad days were outnumbered by the good.

Thanks for reading, everyone!

Gear Review

After spending five weeks out camping on the trail, I feel like I've put my hiking gear through the rounds and am ready to comment on how well each piece worked.

One of the biggest purchases I made gear-wise was my backpack. The backpack I used was a 65-liter REI-brand internal-frame backpack. I decided on that backpack b/c it had gotten a lot of good reviews and also b/c it was pretty much the cheapest backpack that REI sold. In previous backpacking trips, I had used an old (70s) Kelty external-frame that my dad used hiking around Alaska back in the day. I would have used that, but it didn't seem to have enough room for all of my stuff and also because no one seemed to use those anymore - in fact, you can't even buy an external frame at my local REI.

From AT 2010

Out on the trail, one of the things that quickly started to annoy me was that sometimes when I needed something big from my pack (e.g. sleeping bag, food), I had to dig out all of the stuff on top of it. My internal frame pack is structured such that there is one, gigantic pocket - so it's packed by stacking gear on top of each other. Each night when setting up camp, I'd pull everything out, get my sleeping bag and then put everything back in. This got old.

So, I'm thinking the next time I do one of these long hikes, I'm going to go with an external frame. I could use my Dad's old Kelty, but it's missing a few of the perks of newer bags (e.g. straps to hang wet clothes on). The shoulder and belt straps are also pretty worn and not comfortable to wear. So, if I did go with the old backpack, I'd need to replace a few parts and try to add some straps. Here's what I got so far:

From AT 2010

My hammock was probably the most experimental piece of gear I brought with me. In fact, up until a couple months before doing the hike, I didn't even realize that hammocks were an option. I was skeptical when I first started: the curve of a hammock cannot be good for your back.

But after a week or so of hiking, I was starting to really like my hammock. During my whole trip, I slept in shelters maybe five or six times and that was usually because of rain or because I was required to (that's a rule in the Smokies - no tenting/hammocking unless the shelter is full). I would look forward to each night I could sleep in my hammock.

There's a novelty to sleeping off the ground like you do when sleeping in a hammock and at first I had a little trouble with it. Every time I needed to adjust myself, the whole thing would move underneath me. But before too long, I got a hang of it.

From AT 2010

My hammock came with a tarp which you hang over it to keep the rain out. The tarp was designed so that it would cover just enough of the hammock to keep it dry. I found the tarp to be too small - a few times when it rained, I awoke to find some parts of the hammock damp from rain which had blown past the tarp and into the hammock. I plan on purchasing another, slightly larger tarp for future hikes.

Another piece of gear I'll probably get is something called an underquilt. A lot of the other hammockers used underquilts on cold nights. I think I mentioned this in a previous post: hammocks don't do well in cold weather, because you lose heat through your back. Under quilts are designed to be hung underneath the hammock to insulate you from the bottom. You can see a picture of an underquilt here.

Another, slightly-experimental piece of gear I used were my shoes. In the past, I've used hiking boots when backpacking. The first couple of times, I messed my feet up pretty bad. Especially with leather boots, you need to make sure they are thoroughly broken in, otherwise your feet will get rubbed raw. I feel like the boots I have are pretty well broken in, but something I read while researching the trail was that boots are not even necessary.

Boots are designed to give extra support and prevent you from rolling your ankle. But what I was reading said that you don't need that support if you have sufficiently strong ankles, and I felt like mine were pretty strong after running for the past few months. One often-repeated piece of wisdom on the trail is that one pound of weight on your feet is like five on you back - and it's super important to minimize weight whenever possible. So, instead of boots, I went with shoes called trail-runners, which are beefed-up running shoes designed for running on trails. They worked flawlessly and I've very glad I went with them.

One final thing I want to mention is the water strategy that I went with. To carry water, I brought with me a one-liter nalgene bottle and a two-liter camelback water bag (with a valve which you can use to sip on while hiking). The water bag was strictly for water (otherwise, I'd have to clean it to prevent the sugar from causing mold), which I would drink occasionally while hiking and the bottle was for getting water when I got to a spring and also for mixing drinks (e.g. koolaid, breakfast shakes).

From AT 2010

This system worked for the most part, but one thing that started to bother me was that it was a bit of a pain to re-fill the water bag. The water bag sat in a pocket in the back of my backpack, and in order to get to it, I'd need to remove a bunch of other gear from my bag. Another issue was that it was difficult to determine how much water I was carrying. If I was about to hike past a stream or a spring, I'd need to evaluate how much water I was carrying in order to figure out if I should re-fill. But, in order to figure-out how much water I was carrying, I'd need to drop my pack and start pulling stuff out - kind of a pain. So, on my next hike, I might just go with two water bottles and forget about the super-convenient camelback valve. Or, if I go with the external backpack, maybe the extra pockets will make it less of an inconvenience to check/refill the water bag. Not sure yet...

ATL (5-10-10)

I've been back in Atlanta for almost 24 hrs now, and I'm trying to ease back into my former routine. It's been overcast/drizzly most of the day, so I've only been outside a little bit - and it was to go to the grocery store. I came back from my hike a little earlier than I had originally planned, but I'm glad I came back early b/c it'll take a few days before I can pick up where I left off.

I've heard stories of hikers that finish the trail and have trouble adjusting to things once they get off the trail. The guy who runs the Blueberry Patch in Hiawassee said that when he and his son did the trail in the 90's, it was a few weeks before he could sleep inside again. When I first heard that, I was skeptical, but now that I've spent five weeks on the trail, I can believe it. I can sleep in a bed just fine, but one thing that somewhat bothers me is the stillness of the air inside. Outside, you have the wind blowing against you as you sleep and you're subject to whatever the temperature is. You also have much more sound as well - birds, trees blowing in the wind, crunching of fallen leaves. Inside, with AC/heat, everything seems so sterile. I'll get used to it pretty quick I'm sure, but for now, it feels odd.

Another phenomenon I've read about is people coming off the trail and feeling estranged from everyone they knew. People change. Drastic lifestyle changes (e.g. hiking the AT) can sometimes force you to change your world-view. I don't anticipate that really being an issue for me (party b/c I only did a piece of the trail), but once again, I can see how it would happen. Sitting in my apartment, driving to the grocery store... I recognize that it is familiar, but it still seems so alien at the same time. This might wear off in a few days.

I was putting on my old shoes earlier, and I was having trouble fitting my feet into them. I've heard that your feet may grow a size or two while hiking (b/c you're on your feet so much of them time), and I anticipated this by getting hiking shoes a size larger than I needed. But, until a a couple hrs ago, I wasn't aware that my feet had actually grown.

From AT 2010

The past few weeks have been one of the most stress-free periods in my life. On the trail, your schedule is simple: wake-up when the sun comes up, eat, start walking, eat some more, walk, stop for lunch and maybe take a nap. Then, do some more walking and continue until you're too tired (or you come to a convenient shelter). Make dinner, socialize, and then once the sun's set, it's time for bed. Out on the trail, your needs are simple: your goal each day is to end up somewhere closer to Maine than where you started. In between, you eat, walk, enjoy the occasional vista, hang out with your fellow hikers and rest when you need to. There are no deadlines, no checklists.

The transition to normal life could take a while...

Damascus, VA part II (5-9-10)

I got to Damascus pretty early on Friday and then spent all of Saturday and part of Sunday here. Taking a break from work and coming out on the trail reminded me a lot of going to summer camp. Now, waiting here for Christine to pick me up, it feels a lot like coming home from camp. In a matter of time, I will be going back to my old way of life and I'll have to figure out what this hike meant and how to explain it to people.

Friday, I spent a few hours catching up on town chores. My phone didn't have reception, so I had to find "a guy's house" on the north end of town who has a phone out on his porch and lets hikers use it for free (donations accepted, of course). I got in touch with Christine and confirmed that she would pick me up some time Sat. evening. I visited the Dairy King and had some good breakfast and a creamsicle-flavor shake (waitress recommended it). I then went to the library and transcribed a couple weeks-worth of journal entries. After that, the rest of my day was free and I would have a chance to do some much-needed relaxing.

I met-up with Legend, Barley and Montana. We've all had similar paces over the past few days, so I've gotten to know them some, and enjoy their company. We went to dinner at a pizza place downtown and ordered some pitchers of beer. This whole trip, I've been carrying my temporary, paper GA drivers license while my real one slowly travels through the mail (ridiculous system in my opinion, BTW). The server didn't think anything of it, but his manager was a real stick-in-the-mud: "We got busted recently by the ABC [some sort of state alcohol agency in VA] for serving a minor with a fake ID. Your license is on paper - you can just print that on your printer. You don't even look 21." I know how old I am, but the interrogation had me sweating anyway - I don't deal well this this sort of thing. After a while, he cooled off, and another manager convinced him that I really was older than 21. I'm very glad he did, because it was my last night on the trail and I wanted to celebrate.

That night, I stayed at "The Place", which is a hostel run by one of the many churches in town. It was very bare-bones: the bunks didn't even have mattresses. I woke-up pretty early because the hard-wood floors made a lot of noise once the first hiker woke-up in the morning. I got breakfast at a coffee shop on the north end of town with Legend, Barley and Montana: coffee, toast and an omelette. If I were hiking out of town later that day, I would have considered a second or third course for breakfast, but since this was my last day, I decided I would try to keep the meals normal-sized and healthy-ish. My caloric needs are about to be cut in half, so I need to get used to not inhaling high-calorie food.

The rest of the day, I did pretty much nothing. I knew Christine would be in town around six, and all of my chores were done, so I had a lot of time on my hands. When you're on the trail, you don't do a whole lot of relaxing (unless you're doing easy, super-low-mileage hiking) - so, I felt pretty lazy just sitting around reading and listening to music.

From AT 2010

Christine showed-up a little early (about a six hr drive from ATL) and we went to Dairy King for dinner/desert. We spent the rest of the evening walking around town. We came across two small concerts: one Christian rock concert next to a playground and another, secular show on the other side of town next to a huge fire. Trail Days is the biggest hiker event along the trail and it will take place next weekend, but even now a lot of the accommodations are booked up. I tried to get a two-person room for Christine and I, but everything was taken. I knew she wouldn't like sleeping on a mattress-less bunk, so instead I told her to bring my two-person tent, and we would set it up on the grass next to the hostel.

The next day (Sunday), there were two things I wanted to do before heading back to GA: visit the grayson highlands state park (where the AT would travel through in another 40 miles) and provide some trail magic. Grayson highlands was originally my goal for this trip. I've heard some people say that it's one of the most scenic places on the trail, and it's also well known for having wild ponies which will come-up to hikers and lick the sweat off of their backpacks. When I talked to Christine and we decided to make Damascus my pick-up point, I insisted that we had to take a day trip to the park so I could see some of these curious ponies.

We went to grayson highlands and walked around for a few hours, following the AT for a bit and walking some side trails as well, but we were unable to find any ponies. It was definitely scenic and I got a chance to say goodbye to a couple hiker who had gotten ahead of me, but the lack of ponies was a small let-down.

From AT 2010

We left the park sometime after three and headed to Marion, VA - where Christine's GPS said we could find a Pizza Hut. A number of times on this trip, I have been the recipient of some pretty great trail magic. I wanted to take a shot at being a provider. We went to Pizza Hut and ordered a few pizzas and a couple orders of breadsticks. While we were waiting on those, I ran over to the grocery store across the street and picked up some beer, soda and candy. The original plan was to drive up to a trailhead that showed-up in my trail guide, but while we were driving there, we came across a hitchhiker and we pulled over to ask where he needed to go. It turns out that he was a hiker and was looking for a ride from the trail to Marion. I was confused: "Is the trail nearby? I thought the trail was 30 miles away from here." "No, there's actually a shelter 0.2 miles from here."

When I picked-up the pizza and drinks, I was planning on serving three or four people. Hikers usually hike their own pace and you can sometimes sit at a trailhead for a couple hours and not see anyone. So, I wasn't even sure we would find a hiker to share our food with. But, now, we had discovered a shelter - where there would most likely be a handful of hikers. So, we changed our plans and decided to dish out our pizza right there and then. A couple hikers ran back to the shelter to alert everyone else that trail magic was available. Within a minute or two, we had a crowd of maybe 20 people. It was pretty funny: waves of scruffy-looking, hungry hikers running to our cooler and pizza boxes. It had some of the feeling of a zombie movie where hungry-looking creatures will appear out of nowhere, but instead of brains, there were looking for free food. It was a good time. They were glad for the food, and we were glad to be providing it.

Damascus, VA (5-7-10)

I've been neglecting writing for the past few days, so this post might be a long one.

After my last entry, I walked through some pretty easy, pretty low (non-mountainous) areas in TN. I walked through fields, and I walked next to bogs. It was a nice change of pace. I camped one night by myself next to a stream (Laurel Fork) where it joined another, smaller stream - very peaceful.

From AT 2010

The next night, I ended up at Kincora, which is a hiker hostel run by a guy named Bob Peoples. It was a pretty basic place - an addition on the side of his house - where he had space for maybe 20 people and a kitchen, shower and washer/dryer. Bob Peoples is a pretty prominent figure in the trail community b/c he pretty much runs the trail maintenance for this section of the trail. Bob is actually a New Englander and has an awesome, Elmer Fudd-sort of laugh.

For dinner/re-supply, he loaded up all of the hikers into his truck and drove us all to Hampton, TN - about 10 miles away, maybe. We had six people in the cab of the truck and 10 in the back. I was in the back, and it was pretty tough ride - and simultaneously awesome. He dropped us off at a grocery store with an Arby's next door - another epic trail meal!

The next day, the trail descended into the Laural fork gorge, where there was a pretty impressive waterfall. Then, there was climb up pond Mtn, where I was able to use my phone after a few days with no reception. I talked to Christine, and had (what seemed at the time) to be a disappointing conversation. The topic was when she would pick me up. The original plan was next Tues, but she was pushing for this weekend. She's going out of her way (literally) to pick me up, so it's her call - but I was frustrated, none-the-less. Up until that point, I hadn't really been prepared for leaving the trail. I was in the zone, and was prepared to keep hiking until Maine. But having an actual pick-up date reminded me that my time out here was finite.

After coming down from Pond Mtn, I got to Watauga lake - which had a recreation area, complete with a beach and grills. I got there pretty late, and found a bunch of fellow hikers sitting at a picnic table with some people I did non recognize. I got out my water and trail mix and was getting ready to chow-down, when someone said "you're gonna eat trail food, when we have chicken on the grill?" Then, it all started to click: the people I didn't recogize were trail angles (providers of trail magic) and they were preparing food for us hikers.

The next few hours were awesome. They made drumsticks on the grill as well has potatoes. They had snickers bars, beer and clean water. We sat next to the lake, went swimming and reveled in our good fortune. The trail angles consisted of a girl who had thru-hiked last year and her parents. They were from Boone, and the girl had convinced her parents to come to Watauga for the day and do some trail magic. Amazing!

That night, I ended-up at Vandeveer shelter - another 8 miles from the recreation area. To get there, you crossed over the Watauga dam, which was not made from concrete (like Fontana dam) - pretty impressive. I ended-up at the shelter with Barley and Legend. They had brought hotdogs with them, and were determined to eat them all that night. I obliged, and between the three of us, we polished off 16 hotdogs - and that was after I had already had my dinner.

From AT 2010

The next day was a huge day. One of the things I wanted to do on this trip was to pull-off a 30-mile day. Up until now, my highest day was 20 miles, so I knew this would be hard. Damascus was 33 miles away, and they other guys were planning on getting there the next day - so, I would have company on this sprint.

We got up pretty early (started hiking at quarter to 7) and were moving pretty fast. Half-way through the day, we came accoss a metal (bear-proof) box with cold sodas and little debbies - that helped a ton. Then, we came to a section of the trail which is handicapped-accessible, which meant that the grades were pretty easy. I took the challenge where you have to walk this portion of the trail blindfolded - I lasted for about five minutes doing that.

I didn't actually make it to Damascus like the other two guys, but I made it close enough to make today really easy. I had also accomplished my 30 miles goal. Needless to say, I slept well that night.

Apple Orchard Shelter (5-2-10)

Last night, I slept at Roan High Knob shelter, which was near the top of Roan Mtn, above 6000 ft. It was a pretty sweat shelter with a door (which almost closed), a couple windows (which almost closed) and an attic. It was built by the CCC for the fire warden, but went out of use in the 40s, I believe. It was the first time I actually slept well in a shelter.

Coming down from Roan Mtn in the morning, I crossed a parking lot and followed an exposed ridge for a few miles. It was some of the most enjoyable hiking I've done this whole trip. The Mtns are scenic to being with, but what made it so great were the rain clouds flying right over the Mtn (w/o dropping any rain, btw). After a couple days of climbing and sweating and mostly just enduring, I was having a blast just trying tyo stay on the trail. The wind gusts were so powerful, that I was having to walk at an angle just to stay upright.

After the first few balds, I caught up with Funky Monkey and Lorod, who were looking for ramps to add to their lunches. I had no idea what ramps looked like and I had assumed that they were hidden in patches far from the trail, but in fact they are pretty common - at least on this section of the trail. They have two verticle leaves and a purple stems and if you smell them, they smell a bit like onion. I picked one leaf and took a bite. "You can eat these raw, right?" "Yes, but that's normally the sort of thing you ask before doing."

From AT 2010

I was planning on staying at a hostel tonight, because the most convenient shelter (Apple Orchard shelter) is supposedly dangerous to stay at. Back in the 70's, the ATC apparenly had to resort to eminent domain in order to keep the trail sufficiently wild. The locals (understandably) did not like tis and have ever since held a grudge againts the AT and hikers. Another hiker was telling me that the shelter gets vandalized and was even burned to the ground once.

From AT 2010

Late in the day, I ran in to a couple who were saying tyhat the hostel was all booked-up and also that there was a big thunderstorm on the way - so, I ended-up up staying at Apple Orchard anyway. For most of the evening, I had the shelter to myself, so I got to practice some camping skills w/o an audience. I hung a perfect bear bag - even though it's supposedly safe to keep your food in the shelter here. I also built a fire too, even though it was warm enough w/o a fire. Yup, I'm the real deal.

My next re-supply point is one and a half days from here and it's supposed to rain early tomorrow, so I plan on sleeping in late tomorrow.

Cherry Gap Shelter (4-30-10)

This morning's breakfast was awesome. Uncle Johnny's shuttle brought about 10 of us hikers to this convenience store/sandwich shop half-way into town. It was a pretty odd setup: the inside looked like a gas station, but in the back there was a counter with a bunch of stools and a cash register. The menu was all biscuit-based: biscuit with sausage, biscuit with egg, etc. The lady at the counter was trying to warn us that one biscuit ought to be enough, but most people ordered two and finished with little issue. As opposed to yesterday, I ordered and ate jsut the right amt of food: the meal sweet-spot. And I washed it all down with OJ and whole milk - my first whole milk experience, I believe.

I left Uncle Johnny's just before noon and it was all uphill. The whole day, I was sweating. It told myself if I made it all the way to my target destination, I would reward myself with koolaid and a Jordan Jessie Go podcast - it worked.

From AT 2010

Something that I've been dreading doing for a while is check-in with work. I tried checking my work email while I was in Hot Springs, but had no luck getting in. I gave one of my colleagues, Matthew, a call late in the afternoon once I had gotten to a high enough spot to get cell reception. Apparently, the projects I had handed over to him during my trip were more-or-less running with no issue. This was exactly what I wanted to hear!

Late in the day, I heard an interesting bird song. During my hike, I've heard a number of different bird songs - some odd, some simple. Whenever I hear a new one, I try to whistle back to see if I can fool them - so far, no luck. But this bird call was cool: a blast of short, high-pitched notes, which I could not reproduce. It reminded me a lot of this mechanical bird-in-a-box that my grandma (Grandma Maggie) would play for us when I was a kid.

Alright, time to drift off into podcast-amazingness. The last weather report I heard called for thunderstorms for the next few days. I'm hoping that's wrong.