Short Part of a Long Journey

April 18, 2017 / jim fetig / 7 Comments

Appalachian Trail, New York, April 2017 — Last week I was lucky enough to spend a few days hiking with my delightful friend Robin. She is on a month-long trek to both close an unfinished gap she has between Georgia and Maine; and to get into shape for ridgerunning.

She parked her truck and stashed her extra gear at our house and then together we drove to New York where climbed up to the ridge that hosts the AT at the NJ/NY border on a very warm spring day.

I met Robin, aka Miss America, when I was ridgerunning in Georgia in 2015. The daughter of National Park Service rangers in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, she’s a willy woodsman and a strong hiker. She was a ridgerunner in Maryland last year and will serve in Northern Virginia this season. All told, she’s a perfect hiking partner.

Speaking of what’s hot, I can’t remember the last time I hiked in temperatures under 80 degrees F. Last September in Vermont, this March in Georgia and last week in New York it was hotter than Hades. My socks have been so sweat-soaked that they make a squishy sound that squeaks like Crocks on a wet tile floor. Talk about holding your feet to the fire. Enough with the hot weather already!

Fortunately the water sources were plentiful and flowing. In spite of that, I drank four liters of water and still didn’t urinate. By the end of my journey, my clothes were so salt encrusted that they could stand by themselves unaided – you know, kind of crunchy like saltine crackers.

New York is the state where the AT angles a hard north eastern turn toward Maine. The trail turns perpendicular to the north-south flowing ridge lines meaning it’s all day up and down for the hikers. In other words, PUDS – pointless ups and downs.

Here rebar replaces an aluminum extension ladder that was too easy to steal. Hey, it’s New York!

The terrain is ugly for the most part. This is hard work even when heat is turned down.

The gnats had recently hatched. In NY they’re a feature, not a bug.

fullsizeoutput_103c

Can you spell rugged?

How ’bout them bears? We properly hung our food every night.

Casualty.

We navigate using a guidebook that lists terrain features, elevation profile, campsites, springs and also has town maps and phone numbers.

Miss America photo bomb!

We were out four days before it was my time to head home for chainsaw recertification, a trip to Annapolis Rocks to bring supplies up to Gene Anderson and the Appalachian Trail Conservancy Flip Flop Festival this weekend where I’m a featured speaker.

We tented rather than sleep in shelters. This is at dawn, packing up before a big rain pending. At first, Robin was worried about wearing a Red Sox cap in Yankee country, but people treated her as a novelty. Not sure most of them had never seen a Sox fan before.

Staying clean in the woods is critical to remaining healthy and avoid gastrointestinal ailments. We were hiking along one afternoon when I got a message from the ATC asking me if I could take a photo of a hiker using soap and water to clean up in the field practicing leave No Trace principles. We magically produced the goods.

Hudson River Valley just south of West Point.

Yes, the trail goes straight up that rock slab.

Earning my trail legs.

Sometimes you get surprised by trail magic. This was just north of the aptly named “agony ridge.” The sodas were cold too! As a practice, leaving unattended food, trash and drink along the trail is not a good idea. Too many opportunities to unintentionally feed animals and make a mess. Some call this “trail tragic.” We did appreciate it though.

Old sign. Can’t wait to rejoin Robin next week. We’ll be hiking north until just before ridgerunner training starts in late May. Then my spousal unit will come pick us up. There’s no doubt in my mind that Miss America will go far.

Sisu

Spring Cleaning.

April 17, 2017April 17, 2017 / jim fetig / 4 Comments

fullsizeoutput_fac

Appalachian Trail Maryland, April 2017 — It’s April on the AT and spring is when it all starts to happen around here. First up is ridgerunner kick-off. Our long-season ridgerunner/Annapolis Rock caretaker in Maryland starts on April 1. I often wonder whether or not any of them figure out how auspicious that day is by the October 31 end of their very long term. I’ve just never seen one sign up for a second long-season tour, so I suspect they pick up on the hidden meaning.

Last year you may recall Kyle MacKay was our lucky pick to spend seven months in the woods. I mean, that’s longer than the average 2,200-mile thru hike. Blog post about Kyle’s first day.

This year the duty falls on Gene Anderson. Gene is a genial former thru hiker from Carolina who spent his career in the insurance adjusting industry. Now that’s seems like excellent preparation for educating hikers who need to repair their behavior. Everyone of us has scratches and dents that need attention.

I met Gene early on April 1 at the U.S. 40 AT trail head, just up the hill from Green Briar State Park. We went to meet the Maryland Park Service rangers he’d be working with and to collect his radio and other equipment. After that, we moved his gear into the small apartment he’ll share with Kyle who’ll be on the clock for the short season from Memorial Day through Labor Day.

It took two trips to schlep all the gear up to the caretaker’s site. Since I paid attention to how the tent was pitched last year, the dome was up and secure in short order.

Since the week-long formal ridgerunner training doesn’t start until May, the early bird gets OJT. This year I spent four days with Gene rather than the two I spent with Kyle last season. As luck would have it, we saw just about one of everything there is to see minus a major medical event.

I set my tent up behind the caretakers tent in close proximity to very recent bear activity. Bears shred logs in very specific patterns.

The claw marks leave no doubt.

I walked Gene around Annapolis Rock checking each campsite. I showed him how to “knock down” the privy “cone.” and where to find the wood chips users need to add as bulking material to aid the composting process.

The state felled 80 hazard trees over the winter making the area appear to be a no man’s land. Two years ago a rotten tree fell and killed a hiker at another shelter in Maryland. The response was to drop every possible tree than might come down in a high wind or in icy conditions. The result: Ugly, but safe. As the trees decompose, the bears and birds are gonna love it.

No fires are permitted at Annapolis Rock. Alcohol isn’t allowed either. Period. Signs are everywhere. Yet … people think the rules are for others. We destroyed three fire rings like this one that had been created over the winter. Later, we hit the mother lode when we caught five college students on spring break from Ohio with a fire. Yes!!! “Out damn fire! Out!!!” We let them keep their beer if they didn’t drink it. Wink, wink. Believe it or not, they were up and out by dawn. My guess was that they would have been in a stupor at that hour.

Part of the orientation is a tour of the rock. I showed Gene how to get to the bottom of the cliff and a quick and safe way back up.

The second night, two scout troop leaders stopped by the caretaker tent to ask if their troop could build a fire. We explained the rules and why they exist. Fires can be built at Pogo campground, 30 minutes north or at Pine Knob shelter, 30 minutes south, just not at the rock due to environmental sensitivity. “Well,” they said. “There’s a roaring fire just off the AT 150 yards north of the AT-Annapolis Rock trail junction.” Since neither fires nor camping is permitted in Maryland except in designated areas, we decided to check it out.

I grabbed my headlamp. It was black dark. Sure enough we easily found a roaring fire about 25 yards off the trail. There they were, three 50 somethings from Baltimore standing around an out of control fire in a high wind. We asked them to put it out and explained where they could go if they wanted a fire.

The surprise was their age. Usually the perps are between 20 and 40, young and immature men. These were 50 + immature men….

The next morning we went back to check the area. We found a set of tent poles and no sign of camping, so it appeared to us that they abandoned the site in the night and hiked to a place to where they could build a fire. Unfortunately the fire was still hot. Moreover, it had been built on duff (the dead leaf layer) rather than bare ground. Luckily the area was saturated by recent rain. Otherwise … how do you spell forest fire?

We hiked five gallons of water from the Annapolis Rock spring to douse the fire – and put it out, cold. Then we covered and camouflaged it to help prevent a permanent “stealth” campsite from forming.

We found a small blowdown which Gene cleared.

Gene also is a ridgerunner who patrols the trail in Maryland in addition to his duties as Annapolis Rock caretaker. So off we went to inspect other sites.

I love the stone chairs around one of the fire pits at the Pogo campsite.

At Pine Knob I showed Gene how to inspect the area and where to find the trash. Women could not walk 50 feet to the privy. Not sure why this happens, but it happens everywhere.

Enough of the dark side.

One of the best part of being a PATC ridgerunner is leading hikes for the Road Scholar program. Road Scholar We play a role in their hike on the AT in four states offering.

People do the weird things.

Sisu

Walking the Line

November 13, 2016November 13, 2016 / jim fetig / 4 Comments

Appalachian Trail in Northern Virginia, November 9 -12, 2016 — While it is self evident that the Appalachian Trail itself requires frequent maintenance. After all, an estimated three million hikers tread on some part of it annually. That’s a lot of wear and tear.

What few hikers may realize is that the trail itself is one thing. The land through which it flows is another. That land can be federal, state, or local. In some cases it belongs to private conservation groups or other entities. All of those land parcels have borders, borders that are surveyed and marked. They must be checked from time to time to ensure the markers are still there and no encroachment or other illegal activity is underway.

Checking the AT corridor boundary is what I’ve been doing in northern Virginia for the past several days. I was on a corridor monitoring trip organized by the Appalachian Long Distance Hikers Association (ALDHA). Over time 30 some folks dove in, some for the whole time; others for a day or two. Together we were able to check and remark several miles of boundary.

The boundary has no trail. Crews edge their way along the border, bushwhacking through thickets and briars.

Sometimes monitors have to get down into the weeds to find the survey monuments.

Once a monument is found, it is recorded and the brush is lopped away.

Witness trees get refreshed.

The boundary is marked in mustard yellow. The paint, from bottles, is squeezed on brushes toothpaste style. Bottles are refreshed daily.

Sometimes monuments can only be found using the surveyor’s measurements.

Brush trimming is not as fun as it appears to be. 🙂

The threats to trail lands and by extension to hikers are real. People dump trash, extend their fences, or hunt illegally on these lands.

Who knows what led to this tragic scene.

One thing for certain. The former residents were unhappy with the government as other graffiti attested.

Later we decided to bushwhack our way to the AT for an easier hike out. I found an illegal trail built by a hunter the previous year as noted in this blog post about my hike with ridgerunner Hal Evans. Vegetable Territory The hunter had put up an illegal deer stand which was supposed to have been removed. Of special interest, it faced the hiking trail which was less than 100 yards away. This was an intolerable situation regardless of other circumstances.

Note the odd-colored green paint the hunter used to blaze his trail. The bottom part of the ladder was removed. Standard procedure.

Our intrepid crew cut the bicycle lock with bolt cutters and carried out the offending tree stand. Some disassembly was required before it would fit into the ATC’s van for disposal. The Appalachian Trail is a national park and a note and business card from the park’s chief ranger was substituted on the tree to account for the missing stand. In a sign of the times, monitors were concerned that face recognition software might identify them to a revengeful hunter, so faces are not visible.

The ATC crew has a van donated by Toyota.

We stayed at the Potomac Appalachian Trail Club’s Blackburn Trail Center. It features three bunk rooms and a large commercial kitchen. It is rentable for group events and weddings. Otherwise it is used by trail crews, ridgerunners and others working on the trail.

Accommodations are rustic. The plumbing is outside.

Blackburn features a hiker cabin, tent pads and a covered eating area.

Unfortunately the solar shower wasn’t working this late into autumn.

Gorgeous stone work at Blackburn.

Sisu

Personal Recognition

November 1, 2016 / jim fetig / 5 Comments

Standing near the old apple orchard. The saw is for cutting logs used to construct waterbars and check dams. The red pants are Kevlar chainsaw chaps.

Recently the Appalachian Trail Conservancy (ATC) honored me as the volunteer of the month. As personally gratifying as that is, it is important to remember that I am but one of thousands of people in the trail community working hard to protect and preserve this national treasure and all the other trails and parks.

Some of these wonderful people are trail angels who help out individual hikers, others perform a limitless range of activities then help keep the trail alive.

Last year alone volunteers contributed more than a quarter million hours of maintenance on the Appalachian Trail. Even that is not enough. If you love your parks, please contribute as much time, talent and/or treasure as you can. Above all, enjoy your hikes.

Jim Fetig – Potomac Appalachian Trail Club, Appalachian Trail Conservancy

Jim Fetig is a man with a mission—to do everything he can to protect and preserve the Appalachian Trail.

Jim began volunteering with the Potomac Appalachian Trail Club (PATC) in 2012, in part to prepare for a thru-hike, which he accomplished in 2014.

Besides overseeing a Trail section in Shenandoah National Park and working with PATC’s Hoodlums trail crew, he coordinates the club’s ridgerunner program, serves as public affairs chair, and helps with fundraising. He also volunteers at the ATC visitor center in Harpers Ferry and does presentations and workshops on various aspects of hiking.

According to ATC Information Services Manager Laurie Potteiger, Jim is a powerhouse. “Few volunteers are involved with the A.T. from such a variety of perspectives,” she says. “You might find him using a chainsaw to clear blowdowns on his Trail section, swinging a pick on a trail crew, greeting visitors at ATC HQ, supervising ridgerunners anywhere along PATC’s 240 miles of the A.T., or writing blog posts that promote new initiatives that benefit the Trail.”

Last year, Jim helped pioneer the Trail Ambassador program, working as a volunteer ridgerunner with the Georgia Appalachian Trail Club to greet and encourage hikers heading north from Springer Mountain. That section is heavily used, particularly in March and April, not only by prospective A.T. thru-hikers, but by even larger numbers of students on spring breaks and other groups.

As many as 150 of those hikers per day may want to stay at the same overnight site. They are often ill-prepared—many of them on their first backpacking trip. Besides educating hikers on Leave No Trace principles, backcountry sanitation, protecting food from wildlife, and much more, Trail Ambassadors also perform minor trail work and pack out trash. Jim found it very rewarding, particularly motivating hikers and giving them confidence in what they can accomplish. He has received notes from hikers who have completed A.T. thru-hikes thanking him for his encouragement and advice that helped them accomplish their goal.

Jim’s work on the Trail makes him appreciate the complexities of managing it, describing it is a system with many parts that all need to work together. Volunteers are one of those parts, and he says there is a role for everyone. “Whether giving back or paying forward, the volunteer experience is an intrinsic reward in and of itself. Whatever you do, it will be deeply appreciated by everyone concerned including your fellow volunteers.”

Information on contacting Trail maintaining clubs and ATC volunteer opportunities can be found at www.appalachiantrail.org/volunteer.

http://www.appalachiantrail.org/home/volunteer/volunteer-recognition/volunteer-biography-full-page/october-2016—jim-fetig

The Great Winoosky

September 30, 2016 / jim fetig / 11 Comments

Resolved: Never hike a trail without a beer named after it.

The Long Trail, Vermont, September 7, 2016 to September 22, 2016 — The northern two-thirds of the Long Trail may include the most rugged hiking I have ever done. When the map elevation profile looks like sharks teeth or witches hats, you know you’re going to work that day. Let’s just say I’m glad I hiked a lot of miles this summer to get ready. The bad news is that I should have done more.

Drought stressed ferns

Expectations were modest. The nation’s oldest hiking trail is known to be exceptionally rugged. Vermont is in drought having received little snowfall last winter and was negative nine inches of rain on start day. Now Vermont, aka Vermud, is noted for its own original black, sticky, oozy goo. No rain, no goo right? Wrong!

Pre-rain mud

On start day the temps were in the mid-80s. The heat persisted for the first five-day leg. I was raining sweat at a prodigious rate. Could hiker sweat produce this much mud, I asked myself? Not likely. We found sufficient water, but it was not always where we needed it. I got dehydrated the first day and didn’t catch up until our first trail break.

Here’s how the hike went down.

I hiked with my PATC colleague, Rush Williamson. Rush happens to have a friend who lives near the start point at the Canadian border called Journey’s End. Thus we could position a car on each end as save ourselves costly shuttles. He also had friends about five days apart which allowed us to break the hike into three five-day segments. Easy logistics are always welcome and his friends’ hospitality was marvelous.

With Rush at Hal Gray’s home near the Canadian border. We stayed with Hal the night we drove up.

We set out on September 7 hoping to make Jay Camp, 11 miles in. Experienced hikers ought to be able to do that, right? Not even. The terrain and heat conspired against us! Instead we logged a measly eight miles. We arrived at the Laura Woodward shelter around 4:15 pm with plenty of daylight remaining, but with legs not fresh enough to use it.

This miss dogged us. It took two days to realign with shelters. In the interim we tented. The second night it rained hard for what turned out to be the first of five times. Both of us suffered through leaky tent seams. Not good.

Stealth camping in the Vermont woods.

On September 8, the trail over Jay Peak was much more challenging that we anticipated confirming our decision not to press on the previous day. The ski area restaurant had closed two days earlier and the restrooms were locked so we did not linger. I took a 360 video on top and cursed the high angle slab rock where it was featured on the descent. Rain was in the forecast and I worried about safety when the rock was wet. I later learned that my concern was well founded.

Jay Peak

And so this challenging little adventure unfolded. In Vermont shelters are three-sided traditional hiking shelters. “Camps” are rustic cabins with doors. We stayed at several of each.

Corliss Camp shared with a Middlebury College freshman orientation group.

The first five days were hot but otherwise uneventful. On day five we reached Johnson were we were picked up by Ira and Katie Marvin. They were kind enough to share their house and family with us. Rush had an ugly blister so we zeroed. Katie happens to be a physician, so she patched him up good as new.

We had fun with the Marvins. Ira owns a maple syrup factory that supplies Whole Foods, Target and many other stores with genuine Vermont maple syrup.

The next feature on our list was Mt. Mansfield, a very popular mountain featuring an alpine habitat and an auto road. It’s the state’s tallest mountain.

Contemplating hiking up Mansfield with my morning coffee.

We pointed our boots toward Mansfield at the usual hour of seven. By the time we reached the high angle slab rock that defines the Mansfield trail, it was cold and raining hard. The footing was precarious enough to slow us considerably. A Vermonter who used an expression that sounded more like it was from the deep south proclaimed that the rock was “Slicker than chicken shit in a greasy Teflon skillet.” He was accurate.

By noon we discovered Taft and called it a day with no rain in the forecast for the next couple of days. It’s Hobbit door can’t be more than five feet tall.

The next morning the clouds had stopped sobbing, but the trail was still wet and slick. We elected to use the aptly named Profanity Trail bad weather bypass trail up Mansfield because the feature known as the “nose” is notoriously difficult and dangerous when conditions aren’t ideal.

Mansfield is spectacular. One young hiker named “Skywalker” we encounter described it as the top of “Vermudarado.”

The sunrise from Puffer shelter was spectacular and worth the work required to see it.

The full view from Puffer. Mansfield on the left.

Bridge across the Winoosky River and into Burlington for resupply. Next up Camels Hump.

The hump up Camel’s Hump is six mile climb. Great trail and not a terribly hard push save the lack of water. Fortunately we’d learned to carry extra. I made a quick 360 video on top and my partner admonished some day hikes for straying outside the roped-off area into the alpine habitat.

Camel’s Hump

The day hikers have a two-mile long trail to reach the top in droves.

Trail features. Yes, that’s what you walk.

Too many ski areas to count.

Old privy smashed by a blowdown. Hope no one was in it.

Replacement privy.

Next to last day our amazing ridgerunners Robin Hobbs and Sara Leibold cross paths. What a treat and a sight for sore eyes.

The hike ended where the AT crosses U.S. 4 just south of Maine Junction. I hiked uphill to the Inn in 14 minutes. That’s 3 1/2 mph with a 30 lb. pack on my back. Beer is an incredible motivator.

The Inn at Long Trail.

What a surprise to find Denise Benson!

Off to Maine where my friends donated day lily bulbs.

Clean up. The end.

Ran into this. Looks like the Long Trail to me.

Outtakes.

Journey’s End.

Moonlight in Vermont

September 2, 2016 / jim fetig / Leave a comment

2014

Coming attractions: It’s time to get back in the saddle, so what’s next? The oldest hiking trail in the United States beckons. Next up, the mountains of Vermont and The Long Trail.

We’ll be driving to the Canadian border just as soon as the Labor Day traffic clears. Then we’ll hit the trail early the next morning for what is hoped to be a 16 day trek – more if mother nature proves our planning wrong. The objective is to collect the 172 Long Trail miles missed when hiking the Appalachian Trail. (Note: Sources differ on the exact distances involved.)

The sign marking “Maine Junction.”

The AT and the Long Trail overlap for the 100 miles starting at the Vermont/Massachusetts border northward to “Maine Junction” just north of the Rutland and Killington area. At Maine Junction the trail hangs a sharp easterly right turn toward Hanover, NH and from there onward to central Maine.

The Long Trail was conceived in 1910 and stitches Canada to Massachusetts for 272 miles along the spine of Vermont’s rugged Green Mountains. It’s rugged and last month’s 100-mile wilderness hike was good practice, but this adventure will be more strenuous.

Ironically, both the Long Trail and Appalachian Trail were conceived in the same place.

The fire tower on Stratton Mountain has been preserved and maintained so that hikers may see the same views that conceptualized the two hiking trails birthed there.

The hike has a happy ending. Can’t wait!

My partner will be Rush Williamson, a fellow PATC member who also is highly involved in protecting and preserving the AT. He’s also a retired Marine with whom I work closely on many trail-related projects.

For more on the Green Mountain Club and The Long Trail click on: Green Mountain Club and The Long Trail

Victory Lap of Sorts

August 14, 2016 / jim fetig / 14 Comments

100-mile Wilderness, Maine, August 1-10, 2016 — Bottom line: Eye witness accounts are notoriously unreliable. I remembered the last 100 miles of my thru hike as a piece of cake. In my memory, only the second day was challenging. Oh Grasshopper, you definitely mis-remembered that experience!

Absent the adrenaline of a thru hike, the 100-mile Wilderness was hard work, and was it ever. Nevertheless, it was a joy to share it with Windy (Pepsi Hiker) Horn and watch her face brighten with excitement as the wonders of this gem of a hike revealed themselves like a sultry fan dancer hungry for tips. If Katahdin is the cherry on top, the wilderness is definitely the whipped cream and definitely worth the effort.

I met Wendy and her hiking partner Diane near Port Clinton, PA in 2014 on my thru hike. We hiked together for several days before I eventually outran them and they had to return home to northern Illinois. We kept in touch.

This summer I shared dinner with Wendy and her friend Rene at the Skyland resort in Shenandoah National Park. Mostly we talked about hiking.

Turned out that Wendy has section hiked West Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania. Nice, but little to write home about. I suggested she chew off a chunk of excitement for motivation. That’s how we found ourselves tramping our way through the ultimate 100 miles of Maine.

I drove to Maine to visit an old friend for a couple of days before snagging Wendy at the Manchester, NH airport. We then motored six-plus hours north to Millinocket and stayed at the AT Lodge before being shuttled to Monson, the gateway to the 100-mile Wilderness. There we stayed at Shaw’s, now under new and enthusiastic ownership. The place was packed to overflowing.

The first stop was the Appalachian Trail Conservancy’s new visitor center in Monson. The number of AT hikers is overwhelming Baxter State Park and Mt. Katahdin. A new permit system is being tested that will ultimately meter in a finite number of hikers per day and limit the allowable number coming from the AT to 3,000 hikers per annum.

We will save the arguments about the efficacy of this system for another time.

At Shaw’s we arranged a resupply drop which, sadly has upped in price from $25 to $80. Seems hikers were dumping their garbage in and around the old 5-gallon paint buckets. Worse, some food was being stolen. Now, resupply is delivered to your hand. It takes some doing, but it worked okay for us except that it cost an unanticipated $40 each. At least we could split the $80 cost.

THE DROUGHT

Maine suffered a dry winter. This weather pattern has continued into summer. In spite of the drought, the ponds have plenty of water to keep the outlet streams running. The tertiary streams and many springs are bone dry. Hikers need to plan their water carefully. The water sources for two Lean-tos were bone dry.

Same spot, two years apart. The soil is thin with only inches of soil having been created since the glaciers retreated. It doesn’t take much for a rain shower to make mud, or the sun to just as rapidly dry it out for that matter.

Desiccation is everywhere. Even the blueberries are raisins. If the berries fail, the bears, deer and other animals which depend on them will suffer. The harsh reality is that some will starve.

The forest is tinder dry and we learned that fire crews have been propositioning equipment in expectation of forest fires that most certainly will occur.

Here’s a graphic example of the drought’s effects. Little Wilson Falls, two years apart.

Crossing Little Wilson Creek, two years apart. This is not a crossing I ever imagined would be feet dry.

THE TRAIL

The trail begins gently enough with some gentle climbs and slab walks.

Plenty of roots, considered a trail feature in Maine.

Got rocks? We climbed this twice … How? The trail was rerouted at some point to include this gem. The old trail wasn’t blocked and we accidentally did a two hour loop. Ugh!

Not exactly a sprint.

THE JOURNEY

Ya got yer stream crossings and yer views.

We planned for an eight-day transit, allowing for some short and some long days dependent on the terrain. The weather opened windless, humid and hot. Temps were in the 80s and 90s which is cooking for Maine.

Normally, I drink one to two liters per day and another in camp. The first day I got dehydrated because several water sources were dry. I filled up my spare three liter bladder (six lbs.) which we shared. Problem solved.

Two years ago, I didn’t encounter more than a dozen or so hikers. This year there were dozens upon dozens. The college students told us that hiking is now a campus fad. Good to get new blood into the woods, but the trash level was much higher than before.

Two students from Elon U. They had a general idea of what to do, but little knowledge of Leave No Trace outdoor ethics and practices or the fact that privies aren’t everywhere you can camp, or how to properly wash dishes in the woods (not in the pond), or the finer techniques of hanging a food bag. I pulled out my handy Leave No Trace card and led a discussion in the proper practices.

Only one place to get water from the pond where we camped the first night. Guess what’s under that artsy reflection of the sky?

Some Bozo washed his dishes at the only place campers can get water. Brilliant. Not!

A snowshoe hare mowed the shelter lawn. His hind feet were huge and mostly white.

As it turned out, I overestimated how much mileage we could make. The terrain was tougher than I remembered and the heat was oppressive. Each of us was fit enough, but …

Wendy twisted her knee about 40 percent of the way in and had to be “med-evaced” (shuttled) back to Monson for a recuperation day. Here she’s arranging transportation. She brought our resupply when we rendezvoused at Jo-Mary Road – along with a surprise: An icy cold Coke which I appreciated very much!

Nature’s art gallery.

Laundry.

Katahdin in the distance.

While Wendy recuperated, I hiked over White Cap Mountain in the cold rain – exactly the same conditions and time of day as two years ago. It wasn’t a happy flash back.

I pushed on to Cooper Brook Lean-to the next day to swim – almost as good as a shower. The next morning Wendy rejoined at Jo-Mary Road and we were off.

The AT has its moments. One that sneaks up on you like a woman in a Philip Marlow novel with that come hither smile then sets you up for a hard fall is the newly reopened White House Landing. I missed this one last time around. They pick you up in a boat and stuff your face full of burgers and incredible homemade pizza. You don’t leave hungry in the morning either! It helped that the weather broke to cool temps, low humidity and a nice breeze. So much for wilderness. Perfect!

This little guy stood his ground. No rattles, but with the body type of a pit viper including the narrow neck and triangular head. Definitely not a hog nose. Possibly a water snake. We were near a river.

The 100-mile wilderness ends at Abol Bridge, just before entering Baxter State Park for the Katahdin climb. There were about 20 hikers headed for Baxter where there’s only room for 12 long distance hikers. Everything else is reserved car camping. We shuttled into Millinocket and drove into Baxter because we didn’t want to occupy space.

Katahdin is awesome!

Made it! Second time around is not the same, but it’s still pretty good.

New sign this year.

Pretty obvious.

More trash than we could carry out. This is just a sample.

Best sign of the trip.

Sisu.

Busy

July 25, 2016July 26, 2016 / jim fetig / 2 Comments

Digging a bear pole hole.

Northern Virginia section of the Appalachian Trail, July 21-24, 2016 — It was time for the monthly PATC ridgerunner meeting, this time at the Blackburn Trail Center where “Trailboss” is the caretaker and gracious host. Since he has an endless list of projects, Robin Hobbs and I showed up early to help do some work at the Sam Moore shelter (AT NOBO mile 999.6).

Bear poles have hooks to hang food bags using a forked pole, here tied down on the far side of the pole.

The pole is set 18 inches in the ground with four 60-lb. bags of concrete.

Working bear pole at Jim & Molly Denton shelter.

While the Sam Moore overseer and I installed the bear pole, Robin and Trailboss hiked north to clear two blowdowns across the AT.

We finished up by replacing a fire ring with a new fire grate.

The social and dinner prompted a lot of discussion. This is where the real business is done.

Sara Leibold, our Northern Virginia ridgerunner and I started patrolling immediately following the meeting.

We spent the first night at the Tom Floyd Wayside shelter with three others.

We took a break after picking up micro trash at the John Singleton Mosby campsite. It is deep in the area Mosby’s raiders patrolled during the civil war.

Along the way we clipped plenty of vegetation which grows prolifically this time of year.

Our last evening was spent at the Denton shelter with a large grouping of campers. Sunday morning we hiked to a road where Sara’s dad was waiting to take her home to Alabama for a whirlwind visit. She works 10 on and four off which gives her sufficient time.

It wasn’t until much later that I realized Sara might be a serial killer! 😉

Tried to photograph an interesting spider web with a phone camera. No luck. A good camera is on my Christmas list.

I was testing a new Osprey pack for use in the 100-mile wilderness next week. It carries nicely, but I like the cargo features of my old one. On a long hike the ride is more important, so the new pack made the Maine manifest.

Next stop Kennebunkport to see my friend Ed, the guy who taught me to split granite. Then to Manchester, NH to pick up Wendy “Pepsi Hiker” Horn at the airport and head for Millinocket where we’ll drop my car and get shuttled to Monson to begin our 100-mile journey. Boots on trail Aug. 1.

Sisu

Workin’ for the Trail Boss.

July 17, 2016July 17, 2016 / jim fetig / 4 Comments

The Hoodlum trail crew gets briefed by the Trailboss, patron of the infamous Roller Coaster. Photo by Mike Gergely

Somewhere on Loudon Heights, WV, July 16, 2016 — There’s a somewhat secret two-year-long project to relocate the Appalachian Trail on Loudon Heights as it descends to Harpers Ferry. By the end of the year, the job will be done.

The pitch of the existing trail reminds people of a church steeple. Such a challenging slope does not facilitate erosion control. Worse, it passes through preserved civil war battlefield entrenchments, which as par for the course, unthinking/uncaring hikers damage by removing rocks to make fire rings. Neither practice, rock displacement nor fires, is appropriate on such hallowed ground.

The AT is constantly being relocated. Someone once told me that less than 5 percent of the trail is original. Not sure that’s accurate, but in this case, a “relo” makes common sense.

So, you need hard work done fast, “Who ya gonna call?” The Hoodlums, of course. In reality, we were building on the good work of crews that came before us and set the stage for those to follow. Nevertheless, the Hoodlums were delighted to answer the call and do our small part on a brutally hot and humid summer day.

The new treadway gently hugs the mountain’s contour lines. If it had a label, it would scream in bold print, “New gentle lower calorie formulation!”

I overheard someone say that his dad said the same thing mine did, “If you don’t go to college, you’ll end up digging ditches.” So much for education. If I was paid for this, I join a union; but as a hobby, it’s fun and the camaraderie is fantastic.

Trail work is like pulling teeth Big old rock molars. Emily knows the physics of leverage.

Then there’s the detailed work of removing roots and smaller stones. Later another crew will smooth out and level this rough cut. Our job this outing was to break ground.

It takes a village to make a trail. Our northern Virginia ridgerunner, Sara Leibold,(foreground) joined us for the day. The trail building added a new dimension to her experience.

Head Hoodlum Janice and Hoodlum Julie got dirty and had fun.

Some rocks are bigger than others, but eventually they all succumb to brute force and a little bit of know-how.

Like distressed jeans, some new trail comes complete with pre-blowdowns. We just worked around and under them. Trailboss attacked them with gusto!

images.duckduckgo.com

At the end of the day, we retired to Blackburn Trail Center where Mrs. Trailboss, who just happens to be the chair of the Appalachian Trail Conservancy board, rewarded us with a scrumptious dinner! It doesn’t get better than that. Sisu GA/Me ’14

Weedwhacking

June 19, 2016 / jim fetig / 4 Comments

A ray of light perfectly aligned with my eyes under my hammock fly this morning at 6 a.m.

Shenandoah National Park, June 17-19, 2016 — It was North District Hoodlums trail crew work weekend. I usually go to the park on Friday early to work on the section of the Appalachian Trail for which I am overseer and personally responsible. Saturday we do crew work. Sunday we clean up any odds and ends we didn’t get done on our AT sections.

It’s been raining like crazy on the east coast for the past month. In fact, it’s only recently warmed up. Add water to vegetation and you get jungle! Jungle is habitat for the ticks that are the vector for Lyme Disease. What to do about that. The only logical thing is to chop back the jungle.

Weed whacker Man – a superhero if there ever wasn’t one.

I spent two whole days week whacking. First was my trail. Second was a section that belonged to a dear fellow who left us for the charms of Milwaukee. Did I mention that it was hot? At least there were two of us the second day – we are a crew, right?

The idea is to cut the salad back about double arms length from the center of the treadway. The hikers should not touch vegetation as they walk. No vegetation. No ticks (well, almost).

I have an informal campsite on my section. No fires allowed people. They build them anyway and risk the fine. I break up the fire rings by tossing the rocks a long way away. This knucklehead obviously had an unsuccessful fire, not to mention ample signs of raging diarrhea. Poetic justice. Damn right. I’m sparing you the shxtty pics, but I always document the scene of the crime.

The third week of June is prime thru hiker season. Time for the annual Hoodlums hiker feed. We cooked burgers and hot dawgs for about 30 thru hikers. Turns out that they were all very nice folks. That’s not always the case this late into the season.

Sometimes we see dramatic views. Worth a whack so to speak.

Love the evening ambiance.

Next up: I’m about to hike 55 miles through northern Virginia with Denise, the friend with whom I hiked Georgia. She’s here and off the trail on “vacation.” After that, I’ll be out for 240 miles with this year’s group of excellent ridgerunners. Can’t wait to get moving!

A fork in the road

Yogi said, "When you come to a fork in the road, take it." So I'm following the white blazes.

Active retirement

Short Part of a Long Journey

Spring Cleaning.

Walking the Line

Personal Recognition

The Great Winoosky

Moonlight in Vermont

Victory Lap of Sorts

Busy

Workin’ for the Trail Boss.

Weedwhacking