Spring Training

May 26, 2017August 5, 2017 / jim fetig / 10 Comments

Left: National patch. Right: Local maintaining club patch.

Scott Farm, PA, May 16 – 23, 2017 — Baseball players go to spring training and so do Appalachian Trail ridgerunners. It’s a time to refresh and sharpen needed skills for the upcoming season; and to bond and mesh as a team. It’s also fun.

The eleven ridgerunners hired to patrol the mid-Atlantic region gathered for five days of intensive training at the Appalachian Trail Conservancy training center at Scott Farm just outside Carlisle, PA. I was there as the ridgerunner coordinator for the Potomac Appalachian Trail Club (PATC) which employs six of the 11; and to attend the wilderness first aid training to renew my sawyer certification. Following first aid, I helped teach the Leave No Trace instructor course.

The first day opened with a hearty breakfast followed by administrative announcements and an orientation to the trail from a systems perspective. The AT is a lot more complicated than the average hiker can appreciate. The bunkhouse quickly filled up, so the spillover camped on the lawn.

Uniform and equipment issue soon followed. Ridgerunners carry pruning saws to clear minor blowdowns, clippers, first aid kits and wear distinguishing uniforms. The patrol their respective sections for five on and two off; always being present on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, the days of heaviest use.

Household chores – cooking, cleaning, dishes, etc. are divided among and rotated between everybody taking part in training. Readers may remember PJ from the Million Woman March.

Following the administivia, it was time to get down to serious business. Each ridgerunner is certified in wilderness first aid and as a Leave No Trace outdoor ethics instructor.

First aid training comes first. Some seasons the worst thing a ridgerunner sees is a skinned elbow or knee. But, and it’s a big BUT, they have to be prepared to manage serious emergencies that arise in the backcountry, hours away from first responders and easy evacuation.

The SOLO Wilderness First Aid course is 16 hours long (two days), and focuses on the basic skills of: Response and Assessment, Musculoskeletal Injuries, Environmental Emergencies, Survival Skills, Soft Tissue Injuries, and Medical Emergencies. The idea is to perform a proper patient assessment, treat common injuries up to and including setting and splinting a compound fracture.

The ridgerunners are trained to determine whether the patient can be safely “walked out” of the back country, or whether an evacuation is necessary. At that point their training allows them to professionally interact with the medical system for the patient’s benefit.

Needless to say, the training is realistic.

Lower leg fracture splint using a common sleeping pad as a splint. Students are taught how to employ commonly available gear.

Field expedient traction splint to set a fracture of the femur.

Splinting an open book fracture of the pelvis. The legs are tied together. This is NOT something you want to deal with deep in the woods. These fractures are often accompanied by severe internal bleeding and the need to get the patient to a room with bright lights and stainless steel tables is critical. Unfortunately, this can take hours in most places and days in others.

Love moulage.

Putting a dislocated shoulder back in its socket. If you didn’t treat dislocations and fractures, the pain might send a patient into severe shock long before s/he could reach care.

Treating hypothermia (on a hot day). Glad I wasn’t the patient.

Eurica! Our friend Denise hiked in right in the middle of training. She’s on a LASH – long-ass section hike. What a pleasant suprise.

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With first aid out of the way, we turned to Leave No Trace. With an estimated 3 million people using the AT each year, minimizing human impact on the environment is of paramount concern.

The ridgerunners primary duty is not to hike. Rather, it is interacting with the public for the purpose of helping them do as little environmental damage as possible. Leave No Trace

Most Leave No Trace training takes place in the woods. The seven principles Seven Principles

Nobody is going to be perfect, but ignorance is our worst enemy. If we can show a hiker how to improve, that’s a victory.

Peeing and pooping in the woods is a subject of endless discussion and immense importance. Not everybody knows how. Ask any ridgerunner. They’ll be glad to teach you.

We divided the students into three teams and then determined who dug the best cat hole – width, depth, 200 ft. off trail. Here, Ryan rolled up a Cliff Bar which looks just like shxt. Then he reached in and pinched off a piece and ate it. He actually hooked a couple of folks!

Exercise in choosing durable surfaces.

Learning about shelters.

Unfortunately graffiti begets graffiti.

Most Leave No Trace training takes place on hikes.

Your 2017 mid-Atlantic ridgerunners.

FIRST PATROL

Julie is our newest ridgerunner and the only one with whom I have not hiked. An orientation hike is always beneficial. So, we started by meeting with the rangers of Michaux State Forest and New Caladonia State Park, PA. Her patrol section runs the 62 miles south from Pine Grove Furnace State Park, to the Mason Dixon Line at PennMar Park.

Clipping vegetation encroaching on the trail.

Documenting a blowdown that will require a sawyer to remove. It’s waist high.

We stopped to clear a small blowdown and who should show up but my friend Rocky who this year is on his second thru hike.

Checking the trail register at the official half way point.

Hung our food and smellables at the Toms Run shelter.

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At the very time Julie and I were at Toms Run, Lauralee Bliss was at the Gravel Spring Hut (shelter) in Shenandoah National Park where a bear destroyed two tents.

The tents have had food in them. Rule number one in bear country. Never put food in your tent and properly store your food and anything that smells such as deodorant, toothpaste, soap, etc.!

Found a hiker just starting his hike from Harpers Ferry. He plans to flip from Maine back to HF and then hike to Georgia. Note the bear bell, large knife and stuffed animal. Bet those are gone soon as he gains confidence.

It was a good week.

Sisu

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.

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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

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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

A flat soufflé and limp noodles…

March 14, 2017March 16, 2017 / jim fetig / 16 Comments

Good ole white blaze serial number 00000001

North Georgia, Appalachian Trail miles zero through 69.6, March 3-10, 2017 — There I was, hiking the Appalachian Trail in Georgia for the third year in a row. This time it was different, very different, but we will get to that in due course.

This adventure started with an invitation to present my talk on trail hygiene at the annual ATKO – Appalachian Trail Kick Off event at Amicalola Falls State Park. The kick off targets future hikers and serves as a reunion of sorts for many others.

The premise for the talk is that hikers neither have to get sick – Noro virus or gastroenteritis – nor smell like Oscar the Grouch’s trash can on a hot summer’s day. All they have to do is make staying clean a priority. My talk tells them how.

My talk is entitled “What the Funk!” I blogged about the subject here: What the Funk! My Power Point slides are here: https://www.dropbox.com/s/zwxxfhmz96vhn42/What%20The%20Funk.2.pptx?dl=0

The ATKO is a well attended two-and-a-half day event featuring speakers, vendors and old friends like Mike Wingeart and Robin Hobbs who were representing ALDHA, the Appalachian Long Distance Hiking Association.

The ATKO featured a tent city, gear vendors and even a slew of visiting owls. This is a great horned owl. His pals included a tiny screech owl named Goliath and a barred owl which remained amazingly quiet. Trail Dames is a women’s hiking organization I try and promote as often as possible. Love those gals, most of whom I’ve met on my various trail journeys. Check out Trail Dames here: Trail Dames

Now, let’s get down to business. We’ll open with a brief confession. I did not come to the trail with “trail legs.” In other words, I was not in shape. My excuse: I injured my hip lifting weights in early October and have not run since then. Throughout the hike, my hip and cardio were fine, but my legs had all the strength and authority of limp spaghetti noodles. That’s definitely not a recipe for a fluffy soufflé in the nasty hills of Georgia. (Lovin’ mixed metaphors!)

The anointed know that launching from the Amicalola Lodge nets the upper five miles of the infamously steep “approach trail” that leads to the AT’s southern terminus on Springer Mountain. I did it three years ago when I had to spell the caretaker on Springer Mountain. That year my gazelle-like bounds magically crushed the steepest hills. This year I huffed and puffed like the little engine that barely could. I was delighted to summit, albeit about 90 minutes slower than before.

While on Springer, I took a look around. I was saddened to see that two trees I’ve been tracking for the past three years had finally been done in. The number of people on the trail continues to increase along with their relentless degradation of the environment.

A bit hard to see, but campers have moved south of the lower bear cables on Springer Mountain shelter and much closer to the water source; and have established a new fire pit.

The good news is that previous recommendations have been implemented. The increased presence on the trail has remarkably reduced trash. Vegetation recovery projects have begun. Extra campsites and privies have been added. My observations from that time are here: Georgia 2015

Old fire pit at Hawk Mountain shelter cleaned up.

Improvements since last year to the new Hawk Mountain campsite.

As always the newly minted hikers were delightful. I saw Lynne, the Trail Ambassador on the right, twice on my journey as she expanded her patrol coverage. I saw several other ambassadors too.

Ambition has never been lacking for me. Since this was my very first time to hike Georgia alone, I decided to pace myself in accordance with the legend in my own mind, versus the reality of my current physical condition. Mind over matter was a good strategy, or so I thought. That worked about as well as one might expect.

After pitching my tent the first night and on my way to fetch water, I met a young man who asked me if it was okay for his dog to be off leash. Never ask a Leave No Trace zealot that question. I convinced him that every snake, skunk, raccoon and porcupine in the woods would eat his dog for lunch, not to mention any stray bears. How ’bout them Lyme disease bearing ticks ole fido is going to bring back to your tent? Oh boy!!!

This fellow also decided to cowboy camp that night (no tent). Guess what, it rained unexpectedly. I awoke to his thrashing as he hurried to pitch is tent while dodging rain spatter. “Grasshopper, you’re going to learn a lot,” I smiled as a hiked past his tent in the morning. He was sawing zzzzzzs.

I have finally perfected pitching and striking this tent in high wind. I failed at that miserably in Maine last summer. Hint: Up-wind pegs first…

The plan for Monday was to make it about 15 miles either to the Justus Mt. campsite or on to Gooch Gap. The forecast included rain and high winds for Tuesday, so I wanted to get as far as possible.

Moving with the speed to cold flowing molasses helped me realize that I wasn’t going to make either of my targeted locations, so I parked at Cooper Gap where, this year, the Army has been leaving its 500 gallon “water buffalo” unlocked for hikers. Now I was a half day behind with a cold, heavy rain in the forecast.

Very good news: ALL water sources in Georgia were flowing with the exception of the spring at Blue Mountain shelter which is just short of Unicoi Gap.

Fortunately the heavenly watering of the Georgia hills didn’t begin until after I’d packed up. I sopped off with a dry tent at least, headed for the Woods Hole shelter half way up the infamous Blood Mountain; about another 15 miles away. Woods Hole has a covered picnic table and is located where bear proof food containers are required. The odds were good that I’d get a spot, and I’d be back on schedule given that very few people want to carry the 3 1/2 extra pounds the canisters weigh.

Along the way, sometimes you see weird stuff. Who would set the stump on fire at Gooch Mountain? Just past there, somebody used a machete to hack up a dead tree. For what? The dead tree bark is good insect habitat for birds and bears. Why ruin it? Ignorance lives.

Please pack out your trash! The fire pits and the trail in general was far cleaner than I’ve ever seen it at this time of year. Thank you ridgerunners and trail ambassadors!

I arrived at Woods Hole just prior to dusk. I ate and then crashed between these two tents.

The morning dawned cold and windy. The rain had passed. Of the three campers at Woods Hole, nobody had a bear canister. Surprise, surprise, surprise! Where’s the ranger when you need ’em.

A father and son had pitched their tent in the shelter. They were were woefully underprepared with summer sleeping bags and sported wet cotton clothes from the previous day’s rain. The other tent belonged to a new thru hiker who didn’t know better. I made it clear. If more hikers came during the night, the tents would have to come down. Fortunately, none did.

It dawned cold and clear as I waited form my coffee water to boil. Note the two hats. After breakfast I was off for Low Gap, another 15 miles or so away.

Walking over Blood Mountain has its aesthetic pleasures.

Wind at Neel’s Gap

The trail to Low Gap is a relatively easy hike with the exception of a nasty climb at Tesnatee Gap. My right hip flexor was swelling. Time for a reality check.

Dawn at Low Gap. Fortunately, from there it’s an easy 10 miles to Uniqoi Gap where I decided to bail. The noodles were still limp and the soufflé was pretty flat. Reached Unicoi about 12:30 p.m. and shuttled to the Top of Georgia Hostel.

Bought a thru hiker lunch. How do you spell bankruptcy?

Breakfast at Top of Georgia where Bob Gabrielsen offers the morning pep talk before the hopeful sea of humanity rides the tide northward in search of adventure and the state of Maine. Time for me to saddle up the Subaru and ride north.

Toxic waste bag.

It ain’t over until everything’s cleaned up.

Sisu

A Curtain Falls

October 31, 2016 / jim fetig / 9 Comments

Annapolis Rocks, Maryland, October 31, 2016 — Today the final curtain descended on the 2016 ridgerunner season, and an anticlimactic ending it was.

This morning I dashed up to Annapolis Rocks to meet Kyle, our long-term Maryland ridgerunner. Together we struck the caretaker’s tent, packed up the gear and marched it down the mountain for storage in the apartment the ridgerunners share at Washington Monument State Park.

Kyle moving in to the apartment in April.

Setting up the tent.

Preparing to string up the tarp.

The tent platform is clear again.

Caretaker sign in April and October.

The view is always spectacular.

Thanks both to Kyle and to Robin, whose season ended Labor Day, for their dedication and hard work caretaking at Annapolis Rock and ridgerunning on the Appalachian Trail in Maryland.

Ironically it’s Halloween, admittedly a scary day. After today, with the scolds gone, you are not free to trash the woods. That would be really scary.

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.

What the funk?

July 13, 2016July 13, 2016 / jim fetig / 10 Comments

I was out on my annual walk with some of the Potomac Appalachian Trail Club ridgerunners last week.

On this particular walk I started asking about thru hikers about their previous hiking experience. Better than 90 percent said that they had little to no previous backpacking experience before toeing off on Springer Mtn. Admittedly it’s a small sample. Nevertheless, the answer to this question and other observations got me noodling about hiker hygiene …

In central Virginia I called someone to shuttle me into town for a resupply. I tossed my pack into the back of the van; then jumped in. The driver reflexively rolled down her window even before I could get my door shut.

I knew what she was thinking. “This guy’s a thru hiker and I bet he smells to high heaven.” She knew I’d been on the trail for five days and her expectations were reasonable. Hell, when I’m out maintaining my AT section, if the wind is blowing just so, I can smell the thru hikers long before they come into view.

Anyway, as she pulled away, I implored my benefactor.

“You don’t have to do that. I don’t smell.” She looked me in the eye, wrinkled her nose and said, “You’re right.” “How do you do that?” she asked as she returned her window to the upright and locked position.

The answer is simple. Personal hygiene is priority for me and a point of pride. I also don’t want to “smell like a Boy Scout” as my mother used to say to my brother and I when we returned from our camping trips. More importantly, I don’t want to get sick. It’s another level of Leave No Trace if you want to see it that way.

My personal hygiene kit. It clips to and hangs with my bear bag at night. It’s the equivalent of snivel gear for me.

Hikers don’t have to stink if they don’t want to. I may may take it further than most, but staying clean isn’t all that hard and it has many benefits. Experienced hikers tend to be the cleaner ones.

The contents include tooth brush and paste, Dr. Bronner’s soap, waterless shampoo and waterless body wash, large microfiber wash cloths which double as towels, deodorant and Q-tips. Fingernail clippers usually reside in my pocket for quick fingernail cleaning.

Here are eight hiker hygiene considerations.

You don’t have to stink. Using waterless shampoo and body wash each night is the trick. It’s a nice complement to the tick check, the weight is negligible, and it has the added benefit of helping to keep your sleeping bag from smelling like a dead gym sock. Rub it in and wipe it off with a microfiber cloth. You can buy the stuff and any drug store or REI. Hand sanitizer works as deodorant if you rub it in, but I carry the real stuff.
Bury your shit!
Not only is it an unsightly and smelly disease vector, but the Bible itself, Deuteronomy 23:13, says do it! Deuteronomy 23:13
Wash your hands. I allocate two wet wipes per day for use when I relieve myself. I work from the top down, face first, pits followed by the business at hand. When done, they’re returned to the foil container they came in; then on to the trash bag. No monkey butt! I also use a dab of Dr. Bronner’s eco-friendly soap to wash my hands whenever I get water. I wash away from the source in a zip lock I carry for that purpose. I clean my fingernails each time I wash my hands.
Treat or filter your water. I prefer iodine and the neutralizer pills to save weight and space, but I also have a Sawyer. The method is not important. The key is to make it a habit. Better safe than sorry.
Dental care. Brush after breakfast and again after dinner. The key is the brushing action. You don’t need but a dab of toothpaste which you can either swallow or spit into the woods away from camp.
Clean your dishes! This thru hiker was as filthy as her dishes. I cook only foods I can rehydrate in Zip Lock freezer bags or their original containers. If you cook in your pot, clean thoroughly with Dr. Bronner’s and scatter the gray water far away from camp. You can dig a sump and strain out any chunks with grass or vegetation. The chunks need to be packed out.
Lyme disease. This is bad stuff. The most dangerous animal on the AT is the tick. Permethrin kills them on contact. You can have your clothes professionally treated here: Insect Shield or purchase permethrin spray at any Walmart, outdoor store or REI. They even have it at the AT Conservancy Visitor Center. I go overboard. I spray my pack, the inside of my sleeping bag and tent and wear permethrin-treated long pants. For those who don’t like chemicals, weigh the risk.
Noro Virus. The aforementioned practices can do a lot to reduce your chances of catching this ugly bug. If you have a good relationship with your physician, you can get prescriptions that will stop vomiting dead in the water and doxycycline you can take on a prophylactic basis if a tick chomps you. Imodium stops diarrhea. I carry them in my first aid kit. So far, so good, but it’s a comfort to know that they are there. I had to promise that I’d immediately see a doctor if I took any of the prescribed meds.

Stay well. Smell good. Enjoy your hike!

Oh! The things we see.

July 9, 2016 / jim fetig / 7 Comments

Pine Grove Furnace State Park, PA to Harpers Ferry, WV, June 30 – July 6,, 2016 — My annual hikes with our ridgerunners have begun. This year my muffin top needs shrinking so I decided to walk all 240 miles of the PATC section in hopes of burning some of it off. I’d like to do it nonstop, but schedules, theirs and mine, dictate otherwise.

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After dropping my car at the Harpers Ferry National Park long term parking, Robin Hobbs schlepped me up to meet Mitch Mitchell at the store where hikers traditionally eat a half gallon of ice cream to celebrate reaching the halfway point which is just down the trail. From here the math for them changes from counting up the miles to counting them down.

Prospective ridgerunners think the job is about hiking. Readers of this blog know from last year in Georgia and other missives that the opposite is true. It mostly about picking up trash, coaching hikers in Leave No Trace outdoor ethics, counting and interacting with hikers. The miles per day are generally slow and short.

This trip was no different, but here’s fair warning. I’m going to let you in on some ridgerunner reality show secrets and it’s gonna get gross…

We were also out over the July 4th holiday weekend, meaning more people in general, more nubes, and the laggard thru hiker party crowd which is not known for its trail decorum. In fact, they openly admit to yellow blazing (hitch hiking) and to using booze and drugs in excess.

The rule of thumb is that if a hiker isn’t at Harpers Ferry by the Fourth of July, they need to “flip” to Maine and hike south or risk winter weather shutting them out of Mt. Katahdin in October. These folks are walking on the bleeding edge of that axiom.

Selfie at the official half way marker.

Our start was leisurely enough. We got about a half gallon (by volume) worth of trash out of the fire pit at Toms Run shelter and pressed on. Before the day’s end Mitch’s pack reminded me of a colonial tinker plying his trade along the rutted byways that traced the very region we were trekking.

As we moved along, trash of all kinds accumulated.

I don’t know what it is with me and finding pots and pans. Since hiking with Hal and Lauralee last year, I’ve found enough to open my own store.

Any more trash and he won’t have a place to put it. It’s the second pair of new (cheap) boots I’ve found this year alone.

Taking inventory before feeding the friendly dumpster at New Caledonia State Park, PA. We’re not showing you the snack bar just out of the photo. I packed out some of their tasty treats for dinner for that night.

Homeless camp on state park property. It was a family that appeared to have left in a hurry. Some toys and a pink blanket were in one of the tents along with clothing. The food in the cooler was rotten. The park rangers cleaned it up. Too big for us to haul out on our backs.

After spending the night at Birch Run shelter with a noisy crowd of hikers, we press on.

Ridgerunners see a lot of gross stuff on the trail including unburied human waste, used feminine hygiene products, wipes and toilet paper (Charmin blossoms) and the like. We fish it out of privies, pick it up and pack it out or bury it as appropriate. What comes next is a first for me. Why I was surprised, I don’t know.

You’d think after more than 1,000 miles on the trail, hikers would learn a thing or three, especially about hygiene. Maybe not. We found the young woman who owns this food dish improperly camped too close to a stream and illegally camped in the vicinity of a PATC rental cabin. I’d met her previously while hiking with Denise the week prior in Virginia. The embedded dirt on her skin reminded me of a character made up to be in a movie about peasants in the middle ages. My stinky gym socks smell better. Small wonder hikers get sick on the trail.

There were fewer flies on this pile of human scat I buried than on our hiker’s food plate. These videos will go into every presentation I will ever give from now forward on backpacking.

Approaching Deer Lick shelter, we bumped into a PATC trail crew hiking out their tools. They were nice enough to invite us to dinner with the North Chapter group, so we grabbed some of their tools and Chris Ferme’s chainsaw and tagged along for some chicken pot pie, green salad and fresh backed blueberry and lemon pie for dessert. Yum! Chris hauled us back to the trail in time to reach Deer Lick before dark. The next day we hiked over their handiwork. Nice job guys!

The following morning Mitch dropped off to participate in a PATC North Chapter hiker feed back at Pine Grove Furnace. I pushed on to Raven Rock shelter in Maryland to rendezvous with Robin.

People love to steal this sign. I was lucky it was there this trip.

Removed a small blowdown obstructing the trail using a folding saw.

Evidence of the party crowd. Scattered the sticks.

The last of the rhododendron blooms.

Bear activity has been unusually high this season. The good news is that most hikers have found religion when it comes to bears and are hanging their food and toiletries rather than sleeping with them. Yogi and Boo Boo have been working overtime. Bears have entered shelters and stolen packs in search of food and destroyed tents. Shenandoah has closed a section to camping and bear sightings in the PATC’s 240 mile section have been frequent.

While at Raven Rock shelter, MD, Robin and I hiked down to the old Devil’s Race Course shelter location (now torn down) and dismantled the fire ring. That will help make it less inviting for high school drinking parties that caused the new shelter to be built up a steep hill from there.

Now, it didn’t happen by accident that I timed my hike to be at Annapolis Rock for July Fourth ’cause guess what? You can see fireworks from that lofty perch. Unfortunately the rain was falling in buckets with heavy fog. We saw zip, but the campground was nearly full in spite of the forecast.

The clouds were clearing the next morning when I set off for Crampton Gap after a quick photo op with Robin. It was Kyle’s day off (the other Maryland ridgerunner), but I’ve been out with him before and we intercepted him along the way. He’ll be there through Oct. 31, so we’ve got plenty of time.

The AT foot bridge over I-70.

The original Washington Monument outside Boonsboro, MD. My camera lens was foggy with sweat!

C&O Canal lock # 33 just outside Harpers Ferry. I’m standing on the tow path.

Back to Virginia and Shenandoah soon. Sisu

Waiting for g OD ot.

June 29, 2016June 29, 2016 / jim fetig / 5 Comments

Dick’s Dome Shelter, VA, AT mile 984.3, June 24, 2016 — My friend Denise texted me this morning that she was headed my way, leaving the trailhead at Hwy 522 Front Royal, VA. Her ETA at Dick’s Dome: 7 pm. She’s late, but that’s okay. I’ve been talking to the hikers and exploring the new “Whiskey Hollow” shelter under construction about 100 yards away.

My last visit to Dick’s Dome: Stink Bugs + Notebook Odds and Ends

Denise is my trail crew friend, now known by her trail name “The Optimistic Dictator,” OD for short. Readers will recall that I hiked with Denise in Georgia as she started: They’re Off I’ve also written about our adventures here: Let’s Go Hiking.

The PATC 2016 Ridgerunners

When she texted I was with the PATC ridgerunners finishing our monthly meeting.

This month we chose the PATC Highacre “cabin” in Harpers Ferry. It’s within 50 yards of Jefferson’s Rock if anyone cares to look it up. Regardless, nice view of the Potomac River.

The gathering includes a Thursday evening social followed by a Friday business meeting. These are hard working folks who patrol the trail, teach Leave No Trace outdoor ethics, act as ambassadors to the hiking community, clean up trash and privies, and patch up blisters and more serious injuries and afflictions.

We learned that the number of thru hiker reaching Harpers Ferry is up 18 percent over last year. We’re somewhat skeptical of this number’s legitimacy. Here’s why.

In recent years more and more hikers appear to be “yellow blazing.” That means they hitch rides ahead and don’t actually hike all the trail. For example, I saw hikers at the Hoodlum’s hiker feed who appeared in Harpers Ferry, 100 miles north the very next day when I was there. Hummmmm…… The younger generation is going to hell, and it always has!

Flash forward. With dusk on the horizon, I pulled up my WordPress app and began my thoughts. Just then OD rolled in. It was marvelous to see her now after wishing her well at mile 80. She’s nearly 1000 miles into her hike. That’s a big odometer number by foot.

We took up residence for the evening at the Whiskey Hollow shelter under construction. It’s going to be a nice one.

Our itinerary marched us through an Appalachian Trail section branded the “roller coaster.” It’s a series of steep pointless ups and downs, more of a toothache in the grand scheme of the 2,200 mile trek, than a serious challenge, but nevertheless… I’ve often said it’s like an outlet mall where Pennsylvania ships its surplus, worn out rocks, and the stones that don’t sell. This time it occurred to me that the roller coaster may also be where PA’s fugitive boulders go on the lam. That is to say there’s no shortage of miserable rocks on the roller coaster.

So, there I was. It was hot, humid and I was now hiking with someone sporting “trail legs.” Like a Philip Marlow client, the dame’s spandex oozed confidence and strength. Her glimmering smile stared down the roller coaster like Paul Bunyan making match sticks in the north woods. My role in this little meet up was to act as speed break.

This trip “slow-and-melting” was my middle name and I know Denise took great delight in having to stop and wait for me more than a couple of times. How do I know? She loved telling the story. Yea Denise!!!

We found what we thought was trail magic. Instead it was a refreshment station for a trail running group. They didn’t seem to mind that we helped ourselves to some of their cold Gatorade!

Sometimes your dogs need a dip in cold water!

We took a selfie at the 1,000 mile mark (L) GA in March (R)

Raven Rock, VA

Trail Magic at Keys Gap from a 2014 thru hiker and her mom.

A happy hiker reaches the psychological mid point at the Appalachian Trail Conservancy in Harpers Ferry.

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The official enshrinement in hiker history. This is a strong young woman.

Did I tell you that a bear tried to chew through Denise’s kevlar “bear proof” Ursack food bag in Shenandoah National Park? In this case, bro bruin chomped into a bottle of sriracha sauce. Hope this particular Yogi learned his lesson. That stuff is liquid bear spray.

Oh the adventures OD has had! Stay tuned…

Leave No Trace!

May 6, 2016 / jim fetig / 9 Comments

Overlooking the Shenandoah River Valley. About the only dry sunshine we enjoyed.

Shenandoah National Park, May 1-5, 2016 — Some hikers are pigs. No doubt about it. I saw plenty of that on my AT thru hike. Being involved with ridgerunning has driven it home like a pile driver. That’s why I signed up for the Leave No Trace Master Educator Course taught by the National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS).

We’ve got to get better at helping people do the right thing when they are in the back country or it will evolve into a place we don’t recognize. Educating those who use the great out doors is important. So for me, I’m already in with a dime so why not a dollar?

In addition to trashing the woods, some folks can’t resist making the maximum impact they can. Most times they are simply ignorant. These folks can be educated. Others not so much. There is a “no rules for me” crowd that is killing it for everyone else. If the trend continues, future generations won’t have a lot left in a pristine state to enjoy.

Now you know why.

(If this weren’t a family-friendly blog, I’d show you some outrageously gross behavior.)

Pinnacles featuring mouse-proof storage! Rededicated the previous day.

Saturday night I reported to the newly renovated Pinnacles Research Center in Shenandoah’s central district to kick off five days of advanced Leave No Trace (LNT) training designed to teach us how to train LNT trainers and to give more effective classes ourselves. The idea is to help instill an outdoor ethic – good behavior when nobody is watching.

The group was small. Seven students with two instructors. The course is mostly practicum in the field with each student required to present a training session on one of the seven principles of LNT. They are: 1) Plan ahead and prepare. 2) Travel and camp on well-used surfaces. 3) Dispose of waste properly. 4) Leave what you find. 5) Minimize campfire impacts. 6) Respect wildlife. 7) Be considerate of other visitors. If you’ve read this blog, you’ve found it has touched on these concepts plenty of times.

My fellow students were a delight. Each cares a great deal about the outdoor environment. Their diverse backgrounds included a college student who works at a Scout camp in the summer, a professional Boy Scouts of America scouter, a county park environmental educator, a Vermont Green Mountain Club summit steward, a college professor and more.

All told, we were a good humored lot that could not stop talking shop.

This forecast proved to be optimistic.

We would suffer the first day indoors followed by three nights and four days tramping through Shenandoah’s Hazel Mountain wilderness area. Weather forecast: Liquid sunshine garnished by warm and cold temperatures with wind and thunderstorms on the side. Yum! At one point the weather abruptly changed to pea-sized hail and the pellets stung the hey out of my bare arms.

Along the way we slept in four-person circus tents and prepared meals from scratch. These are not my favorite ways to approach backpacking. I like to be in control and don’t like the time and mess required to do dishes in the back country. Nevertheless, this arrangement turned out to be simple, efficient and actually facilitated some of the lessons we were studying. It reminded me of being in the Army and Boy Scouts.

Tents

Hanging glasses

Tent mates

Our group.

Our field kitchen.

Deeelicious! Pasta, broccoli, cauliflower, salmon and cream cheese.

Last night. At Birds Nest 3, a hut on the AT. Discussion on how we planned to apply our newly acquired skills. It rained buckets and hour later. No. That’s not a whiskey bottle. It’s a water bottle with a filter on top. We wished it was whiskey.

Cooking at shelters is a bit easier.

Cleaning up and turning in NOLS equipment back at Pinnacles.

The scenery alone is worth the time.

Shelters are designed to concentrate environmental impact in a few places. Sometimes you can’t make it to the next shelter. If you can tell I was ever there, then I did something wrong.

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.

Leave No Trace

Spring Training

Short Part of a Long Journey

Spring Cleaning.

A flat soufflé and limp noodles…

A Curtain Falls

Victory Lap of Sorts

What the funk?

Oh! The things we see.

Waiting for g OD ot.

Leave No Trace!