The Cookie Lady

May 27, 2014May 27, 2014 / jim fetig / 2 Comments

Kay Wood Shelter, Mass., AT NOBO mile 1,562.2, Monday May 26, 2014 — The trail is full of treats. New Jersey had its delis, Upper Goose Pond had its pancake breakfast and hot coffee this morning, and today we met the Cookie Lady.

The Cookie Lady lives less than 100 yards off the trail and has been baking free cookies for hikers for decades. Nearly all the hiker biographies mention her warm welcome, free water and opportunity to buy a coke or an ice cream bar.

Tomorrow the town of Dalton features Tom Lavarty who has been welcoming hikers to tent in his yard for free.

These are true trail angels, people who give of themselves to make the trail a special place. Without them, this hike would not be such a special experience.

Today’s weather was sunny and pleasant. The trail was nearly flat and rock free. The forest was verdant and inviting. It almost sounds like a prayer, but that’s the way it was.

We broke for lunch at October Mountain Shelter with Dennis, a section hiker from Florida. Life was good.

Midnight raid

May 26, 2014May 26, 2014 / jim fetig / 6 Comments

Upper Goose Pond Cabin, Mass., AT NOBO mile 1,544.6, Saturday May 25, 2014 — As darkness slipped its velvety cloak over the woods last night, the stars twinkled in a clear sky for the first time in three days.

The six of us at Tom Leonard Shelter drifted off to sweet dreamland shortly after hiker midnight with joyous anticipation of a clear day and dry rocks. It doesn’t get better than that out here.

Our sleep was shattered by ominous scratching noises. Now mind you that being inside a shelter is akin to the sound chamber of a guitar. Everything sounds loud.

These were loud. First thought: bear! Second thought: Why would a bear be scratching the walls of the shelter? That’s not where the food is. So we listened and turned on our headlamps.

Nada. We couldn’t see a thing, yet the persistent noise continued. Edgar Allen Poe couldn’t have scripted it better.

Enough already! I slipped my shoes on to go take a look. In the process I made some noise and the Poe-etic sounds ceased.

As my light swept the area around the shelter, the south end of a northbound porcupine could be seen as it waddled away. Mystery solved and drama over, we all returned to snoozing.

The porcupine sighting also explained a number of divots chunked out of the picnic table, the edges of the shelter bunks and the leading edge of the front platform. It appears they like the salt human touch leaves in the wood.

It was a long 20+ miles into Upper Goose Pond where an two story cabin offers hikers safe harbor, swimming and a free pancake breakfast. It’s run by volunteer caretakers and the Appalachian Mountain Club.

Tomorrow will end just short of Dalton where my bruised feet will get a much needed day of rest. The weather was fabulous today and the walking worthwhile.

Another state.

May 24, 2014May 24, 2014 / jim fetig / 2 Comments

The Hemlocks Shelter, Mass., AT NOBO mile 1509.1, Friday May 23, 2014 — The best thing that happened today was crossing into Massachusetts. Everything else was wet.

We met two women of a certain age at the shelter last night. They were up and moving at 0430 which is really early. Later when we passed them on the trail we realized why. They were slow, really slow, but at least they were out here.

The rest of the day was marked by slick wet rock. Toward the end we has two steep climbs in Mts Race and Everett. The climb up Everette was especially brutal – vertical slab rock most of the way.

Both Swayed and I practiced our John Wayne bite the dust impressions several times. It was slow going. We’d planned to reach this shelter by 5 pm. Instead we showed up at 7:30 pm.

I sent my rain jacket and gaiters to Hanover, NH from Kent. I received substitutes, but guess what? They aren’t good enough. Live and learn, yes. Add a week’s worth of rain to the mix and I will learn a hard lesson. My sleeping gear, sans Sleeping bag is working just fine.

Muggles Awake!

May 23, 2014May 23, 2014 / jim fetig / 1 Comment

Limestone Spring Shelter, Conn., AT NOBO mile 1,491.6, Thursday May 22, 2014 — At first you can sense it deep in your bones. It’s a primal vibration that our ancestors knew when the buffalo were running. It’s a deep bass rumble that signals the gods of fire are unhappy long before you can actually hear them.

Your cerebral cortex fires and you snap awake just as the big diesel makes reality unmistakable.

Wait a minute, your brain argues. Aren’t we supposed to be sleeping at a shelter deep in the woods. Where’d the train come from?

As you stare into the cloudy night, the Hogwarts Express appears out of nowhere, not even 50 yards from your sleeping bag. After all, out here what else could it be? There are no trains out here.

It rumbles by quickly and then it is gone. Silence returns along with fitful sleep.

By morning you can’t even remember if it was real. Oh, it was real alright. Everybody is talking about it. “Where the hell did that train come from? Scared me to death!”

When you pull out of camp in what’s left of the overnight rain, you expect to cross railroad tracks post haste. After a brief walk you’re left wondering where they are. You can see a quarter mile ahead and there’s nothing.

Then you look right, across the Housatonic and there they are – on the far side of the river. Last night they seemed much closer, but you’re glad they’re real.

It was a dark and stormy day alright. We enjoyed some respite as we hiked. The wispy cloud fog framed beautiful views and we tramped over some fun rocks on our way to a successful 20-mile day.

You call that hiking?

May 22, 2014 / jim fetig / 7 Comments

Stewart Hollow Brook Shelter, Conn., AT NOBO mile 1,470.2, Wednesday May 21, 2014 — Swayed and I punched out of Kent around one o’clock with heavy restaurant lunches snuggling in our tummies.

As I bumped along the trail, my ravioli offered several retasting opportunities. It was good, though not great, the second time around.

Kent has a reputation among hikers for being snooty. It is one of those places where people with summer houses, and perhaps a few of them more elsewhere, congregate. Women named Buffy can be seen walk their dogs named Muffin on occasion. Nantucket red is everywhere. But that’s not the Kent we experienced.

The locals were open and friendly. This morning people in line at the post office told me positive hiker stories. People everywhere were welcoming.

We did pay $70 for two orders of fish and chips an ice tea and three beers plus tip last night. Prices like that may help color hikers’ opinion of Kent.

A merchant told me more of the laundromat story. Seems young hikers last year were stripping to their birthday suits in the store because many only have the clothes they’re wearing. The owner tried to provide a changing room but the kids didn’t use it. IMHO, she should have called the cops.

The hike out of town was a breeze right until we reached mile 1,467.0, St. John’s Ledges in the guide. The note said “steep stairs down to Housatonic River.” That’s an understatement if I ever saw one. It was nearly vertical and covered with slick leaf litter. Bad news.

This wasn’t a hike as much as it was an amusement park ride without the safety features. I think my pace dropped to about an inch an hour. We made it safely, but not without a few scary moments.

Notes: 1. My sleeping bag and rain jacket are on their way to my cousin Deb’s in Hanover, NH. An army poncho liner supplemented with a fleece and down jacket is the replacement. A water resistant running jacket will suffice in the heat.

2. Time will tell with rain on the menu for the next four days. Our choice is 10 or 20 miles tomorrow. All will depend on how slick the rocks are. Safety is number one.

3. WordPress has changed the way photos are uploaded. I can no longer control the file size and the app seems to have been optimized for WIFI, not the marginal signal we tend to get on the trail. It wants to load full size pics every time which eats battery whether successful or not. Therefore some future posts may only have one, or possibly no photos as consequence of this “improvement.”

Lovin’ Kent

May 20, 2014 / jim fetig / 2 Comments

Kent Laundromat, Kent, Conn., AT NOBO mile 1,4xx, Tuesday May 20, 2014 — Why do hikers criticize Kent? What’s not to like? This is a lovely community.

We marched the 0.8 miles east up the road from the trail crossing on a bright sunny temperate day. The first thing we see: ICE CREAM! We’re in.

Annie Bananie’s was fantastic as was the banana cookie dough ice cream. The owner was very friendly as was the proprietor of the Fife and Drum motel where we are staying.

All our packages were at the post office. yes! The lady behind the counter loves hikers. With our boxes in hand we slipped next door to the town hall to have a conversation about the laundromat situation.

The selectman’s office was shocked to see the page in the guide where it says “Hikers NOT welcome” on the Kent town map where the laundromat is marked.

Not kosher was the immediate response, and they copied the offending page as evidence. Best of all, I was assured I could to my laundry without fear of arrest.

Further the matter of being unwelcoming will be brought to the attention of the Chamber of Commerce. This, it seems, is inconsistent with the brand the town is trying to project.

All of this just goes to show that “something” can be done, if the right approach is used.

Let’s hope the long term trend is favorable. It’s times like now when I love having gray hair. 🙂

Love the view of the IGA out the laundromat window.
Rain from tomorrow through Sat. 🙁

Manhattan Transfer

May 19, 2014 / jim fetig / 10 Comments

Wiley Shelter, N.Y., AT NOBO mile 1,450.5, Monday May 19, 2014 — The AT has its own train station, yup. Well, it’s a stop, not exactly a station, but what the hey, the train to Manhattan does stop right exactly on the AT.

According to the log books, a lot of folks take the train out to go hiking on the AT. A lot of hikers who’ve never seen the city ride in to see what NYC is all about. Pretty good deal, I’d say.

It was in the low 40s again this morning. Tomorrow we’ll be in infamous Kent, CT where my summer gear awaits. I’m thinking of bouncing it ahead to Mass because I have my doubts about just how warm my Army poncho liner really is.

One idea I’ve come up with is to curate the trail. The educational opportunities are unlimited. This trail passes through 12 of the 13 original colonies plus West Virginia. Think of the history both chronological and natural. It wouldn’t be quick or easy, but it could be accomplished over time.

For example, today we hiked past Nuclear Lake. Every year hikers muse in their blogs about how the lake got its name and what nearby companies GE/ATT/IBM might have buried there. Hummmmm… Nothing in Wikipedia.

Other than that, it was another great day.

Rude pizza guy

May 19, 2014May 19, 2014 / jim fetig / 7 Comments

Morgan Stewart Shelter, N.Y., AT NOBO mile 1,433.9, Sunday May 18, 2014 — I promised this blog would be about a rude pizza guy. It is. You’ll see. But first a word from our sponsor.

Long distance hiking definitely helps sooth the mind, but Hike for Mental Health is more than that. Like bike rides, marathons and similar challenges. Hike for Mental Health hopes to use long distance hiking as a means to raise money in support of much needed research in the field.

As a former senior administrator at one of America’s leading research universities, I can attest to the criticality of funding for academic research. Without the creation of new knowledge, problem solving would grind to a halt. So it is with mental health. Here’s how hiking fits.

The Appalachian Trail was conceived as a way to get people from the urban areas into the wilderness. Its visionaries never imagined thru-hiking as a component of the trail experience, but one guy did.

Earl Schafer was the first thru hiker in1948. He was “walking off the war” (WW II) in terms of his own experiences and to cope with the tragic loss of his closest boyhood friend in that war. He needed the time, the space and the opportunity to commune with nature to help himself cope.

In my own case, I needed a way to decompress from a highly stressful career and do some unfettered thinking about the future, those I love, and my personal successes and failures. To date, hiking has been marvelous medicine for me, and this blog is part of that process.

I asked Hiking for Mental Health to put its donate button on the right hand side of my blog page for the purpose of trying to help a good cause. When this hike is over, I plan to click on it and make a small difference. I hope you will too.

Back to our story.

It was around 42 degrees this morning at wake up time. My tent was cosy and I hated to abandon ship. We were up and out of the park, walking briskly in our short sleeve shirts to stay warm, before almost anyone else was awake.

We hit the 9-11 memorial rock painting within minutes. Later we lounged for lunch at the exquisite RPH Shelter. If it hadn’t been 24 miles away, we might have stayed there instead of Fahnestock Park.

Everyone was in a great mood and looking forward to the pizzeria and deli where the AT passes 4/10ths of a mile from the highway to Stormville, NY. We’d be there around 2:30 pm and could walk the extra distance off trail in time for a tasty late lunch. Our anticipation was high!

Upon inspection, the deli was more of a convenience store with no seats so we decided to eat at the pizzeria. Swayed and I entered and ordered a $26 large pie to split between us.

Then Swayed made a simple request and asked where the restroom was so he could was his hands before eating. The guy behind the counter said they didn’t have a restroom, but Swayed could use the spigot on the side of the building.

I went on red alert. In NY, as most states, any restaurant with tables must proved a restroom for customer use. I scanned the small establishment but could see nothing obvious. Spigot… On the side of a building… It has a certain historical ring to it.

As we were bulldozing our way through the pizza, we noticed customers using a room marked “private” from which noise sounding strangely like flushing emanated.

Bingo! This guy doesn’t like hikers. I didn’t care much for his tasteless pizza either, but I got the picture. It works like this.

The vast majority of thru hikers are kids in their early 20s. Many are just out of college. Some are drop outs. Others never went. They stereotype into three groups, only the smallest of which is positive.

The other two groups act and sound either like Beavis and Butthead or characters from the 1983 Nicholas Cage “Valley Girl” movie with the upward inflection at the end of every sentence. They have little money, outdoor expertise or sense of personal hygiene.

The hiker trash stereotype is derived from their example and behavior. In dozens upon dozens of conversations with hostel owners, shuttle operators and restauranteurs, almost no one has had much good to say about them.

Swayed and I have met our share and concur. It’s been a constant topic of conversation since we met.

Back to our pizza guy. This jackass cannot differentiate between a couple of obviously polite middle age, affluent and educated folks and the boneheads. Worse, he’s breaking the law. Just insert any racial group into his equation.

I posted photos and a notice on the AT hiker class of 2014 Facebook Page. I noted that the deli is great, so I hope everyone goes there.

Flash forward.

Tuesday sometime we should reach the very affluent and reputedly hiker unfriendly little burg of Kent, CT.

The guidebook says hikers are “unwelcome” at the laundrymat. Guess who’s gonna test that one? This could get interesting. Stay tuned.

Zoo

May 18, 2014May 18, 2014 / jim fetig / 5 Comments

Clarence Fahnestock State Park, NY, AT NOBO mile 1,419.9, Saturday May 17, 2014 — Swayed and I are tenting in a NY state park not far from New York City on a weekend. Guess who’s on exhibit? Why us of course.

“Hey Vinny! Did ya see doz guys?” We being “doz guys.” Actually, if you know how to ‘nice them out’, New Yorkers are pretty good folks. Let’s just say that we’ve been well treated since we’ve been here. Swayed’s British accent helps.

We got a late jump on the day being that the shuttle leaves the motel at nine. That’s really late for us. We set our sights on a 20 mile day while Bus elected to stop much shorter. He caught the chest and head cold I’ve been nursing for the past week and is a bit under the weather.

We all wanted to see the Bear Mountain Zoo. Within, the bear exhibit is the lowest elevation on the entire AT. Sadly, we were too early. It wasn’t open yet. Every hiker wants to liberate the poor bears. We like them much better outside cages.

Since we had the extra time, our day started with a high octane pancake breakfast served with Italian charm. We loved it.

Next up at lunch time was the Appalachian Deli which is right on the trail. It is truly an amazing place. I gobbled an excellent plate of rigatoni with chicken for lunch. Washed down with Gatorade of course.

The day was decent hiking with the exception that the trail was seriously waterlogged from the heavy rain overnight. I did run into a friendly garter snake whose curiosity about me was amusing.

This weekend is Trail Days in Damascus, VA. Thousands of hikers gather there. Hike for Mental Health, which I support, has a booth. I plan to write about the hiking and mental health tomorrow. It’s a propitious time to do it.

Pounded

May 16, 2014 / jim fetig / 10 Comments

Bear Mountain Bridge Motel, N.Y., AT NOBO mile 1399.7, Friday May 16, 2014 — Everybody complains about Pennsylvania. The reason may be that the worst of the PA rocks occur in the final 2 1/2 days in the state and the resulting misery leaves a lasting impression.

What almost nobody mentions is that NJ and NY are substantially different, but in many ways offer even more challenging hiking.

The NJ/NY rocks grow progressively larger and the talus piles require more and hand-over-hand up-climbing as the trail progresses. Trekking poles get stowed. It’s grunt work just to make headway.

The corollary to these vertical ups is steep, jarring down-hills that eat knees and quads – not to mention the back pockets of your hiking pants – for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Add a bit of rain to this recipe of slick rock and left over leaf litter and down you go – sometimes more than once.

So it was yesterday. Three days worth of hard landings lit up the damaged nerves in my right foot for the first time since this hike began.

Early readers of this blog will recall my concerns that an old, but severe injury to my right ankle and foot might make this hike hell on earth. Until the past day or so I’ve experienced no issues thanks to special orthotics and targeted physical conditioning.

Now we’re dealing with phantom signals that suggest bone on bone pain. The pain is real, but the fact is not. This is a purely neurological issue so Ibuprofen doesn’t help. The best Rx is Rest until the damaged nerves calm.

Swayed’s knees and feet were barking too, so after a tasty lunch in the 3-star Bear Mountain Inn, we called a 10-mile NERO for yesterday and a zero today. We’re back at it in the morning.

The good news is that the Bus rolled into the motel around mid-morning, so the Gang of Three is back in business!

A couple of notes: Yesterday we hiked over Bear Mountain featuring some of the most exquisite rock steps, retaining walls and trail engineering I’ve ever seen. I texted Bus (the engineer) to be sure and void his bladder before hiking this part of the trail for fear that he’d wet his pants. It’s that good!

When we were on Bear Mountain it was pouring rain, so unfortunately no pics. We did say a final goodbye to Maglev who we encountered in the Perkins Memorial Tower on the summit.

Our motel is vintage 1920, featuring only six units. Its market is primarily hikers and people visiting nearby West Point.

There’s another similar “hostel” motel just outside Fontana Village, Tenn called the Hike Inn. The economic model is similar in both cases, as is the vintage charm. The owners are all wonderful folks.

My foot is feeling much better after 24 hours. I’ll be ready to rock and roll in the morning.