The Benefit of Fitness

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Thirty-seven lbs. in a 40 liter pack – ugh!

 

Visions of history’s great force marches gnawed at my mind as I set out on my last training hike. This hike was deliberately designed to test my limits. 

I constantly reminded myself that my efforts and challenges were a cakewalk in comparison to the distances both armies frequently marched during the Civil War on some of the very ground upon which I was walking. 

The suffering and horror of Bataan or Napoleon’s retreat from Russia were beyond imagination or reasonable comparison.

In this context, my hike was easy.  Why, I pondered, do so many people physically succumb and drop out of their thru hike attempts?  I learned some about why that happens and would like to share it with you.

The test I created was a simple worse case scenario.  I would hike 160 miles in two weeks carrying my full winter kit and 14 days worth of food.  While knowing resupply was easy, I chose to be self-contained and heavy on purpose, just to learn how my body would handle the stress of the extra weight.

In the beginning by total pack weight was 37 lbs.  That wasn’t a monkey on my back, it was a full grown gorilla!  Jane Goodall would have been proud.  As I ate the weight down I expected some relief, but Mother Nature had other malevolent ideas. 

I ate weight, but Momma Nature countered by turning up the heat.  As I basted in my own sweat, my mind played games with my head.  I obsessed about and deeply resented the useless weight imposed by my winter base layer, the 20 degree  sleeping bag and the now useless puffy down jacket.  My clothing bag came to weigh as much as a black smith’s anvil.  Thank heaven there were no hiker boxes around tempting me to off-load a little superfluous mass.

As it was, I pushed to finish one day early in order to beat a tropical storm.  Doing that involved three consecutive 15s and one 20-mile day in 88 – 90 degree temps. Good training for summer weather I thought – fortunately minus most of the blood sucking insects.

The good news is that the time spent pushing myself to near nausea in the weight room with my trainers at Fitness Together paid off in spades. 

This hike was harder than imagined, but thanks to my weight training and running, strength and endurance were never issues.  In fact, I was able to keep pushing hard at the end of several painful and frustrating days.

Age-imposed limitations are the bad news.  After it was over, three full days elapsed before I could even contemplate resuming hiking.  The message there is that I essentially gained nothing by force marching for 13 days.  Zero mileage days actually gain time in the future. 

Today, one week after finishing, my knees are still sore.  The extra weight in my pack conspired with rocky downhill slopes to impose maximum stress on them.  Trekking poles helped some, but not enough.  I vowed that my total pack weight will never exceed 25 lbs. again, no matter what, when or why.

As the hike wore on, small aches and pains asserted themselves.  My calves wanted to cramp no matter how much I drank.  A muscle in the middle of my back decided to go on strike.  My triceps got sore from pushing and lifting myself up with my poles.  My glutes staged 60s-style protests.  I developed a stiff neck from sleeping the wrong way.  Joy was everywhere.

The object lesson is that a zero (rest day) about every fifth day would be optimal.  Zeroing at least once every seven days is mandatory for me.  Otherwise, my body will start rapidly breaking down.  Good to know now while there is still time to plan before the main event begins.

Without the extra fitness level, I would have been screwed. It is good to know, however, that I am able to push as hard, far and fast as necessary if need be.  It’s not too late for anyone hiking in 2014 to get in better shape.  Training hikes help, but weight training, boot camp fitness or cross fit under the supervision of a coach/personal trainer can impressively improve your odds of success.  Think of it as insurance.

The reason I suggest coaching, if you can afford the investment, is that most folks profit from the expertise they offer and their ability to maximize the benefit of your workouts.  For months mine have been specifically designed for hiking and they paid off.  For example, box jumps with weights are perfect training for high-stepping up stone steps and over ledges or big boulders.

And now some breaking news.  Plans have changed for my next training hike.  Roadrunners often train on the same course upon which they will race to gain familiarity.  I’m hoping this rule of thumb applies to hiking.

On October 25th class of ’14 member Mary “Hey Man!” Manley and I will begin hiking the 165 miles from Springer Mountain, Georgia to Fontana Village, North Carolina.  She’s a recently retired nurse.  We’ll travel at her pace and on her schedule.  After reviewing “Baltimore Jack’s” notes, I think about five days worth of grub is the most I’ll ever need on this stretch. 

Not sure how it will go, but we’ll let you know how two retired folks do and will share what we learn from our individual age, gender and hiker perspectives.  You can follow Mary’s blog on WordPress and Trail Journals.

Sisu – Making tracks.

Stink Bugs + Notebook Odds and Ends

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 Avoiding stink bugs at Dick’s Dome Shelter

 

Some days you get the bears, and some days the bears get you. 

Day nine of my hike was the most difficult.  Hard rocks (Aren’t they all?) punctuated most of the day and I had a lot of miles to log.  A little bit of serendipity want a long way, and on balance, I got is good as I gave.

If you read my blog post on music, you know that I’ve given it a lot of attention.  Three times on day nine, music lifted my spirits and lightened my load. 

The first musical magic was Willy Nelson singing  “A Little Bit of Karma” just as the trail leveled out after a long steep climb.  I muttered a weary thanks to Karma, my 2013 thru hiker friend, for her kindly intervention.  This woman has certain super powers.  Could she be a saint, I wondered?  Then, just as soon as the song finished, the trail turned upward again. 

Not much later, John Denver crooned “Country Roads” just as the blue hills of West Virginia hung on the horizon.  I sang along. After all, West Virginia was destination and it would be “almost heaven” when I got there.

Better yet, a couple of hours later, as I worked my way up Pass Mountain with twilight close behind, Hanna Montana uplifted my stride with “The Climb.”  Music saved the day.

Needless to say, after day nine, my feet ached, but not as much as they might have.  My podiatrist made me special orthotics to protect against plantar fasciitis.  They are worth the investment.  They did need an adjustment to widen the heel cup on the left one.  Once it’s back from the lab, I’ll be back agitating AT gravel. 

The first thing I heard a southbounder complained about was stink bugs.  This surprised me because I didn’t recall anyone complaining about them on Trail Journals.  The further north I got, the more prevalent these nosy pests became. 

When I reached the Tom Floyd shelter at mid day, hundreds of them had taken up residence.  A day later I set my tent up inside Dick’s Dome so I could get a peaceful night’s sleep.  Precautions aside, a couple of dead ones fell out of my pack as I emptied it back home.  I’ve got a bad feeling about these guys fellow fourteeners.

Electronics and storage batteries became a challenge.  My 10.5 amp hour storage battery failed for the second time.  I had to heavily ration my phone and iPod batteries.  I did get to charge them at waysides and Bear’s Den.  However, I wasn’t able to blog or take many photos with my phone, or listen to my iPod except for an hour or two at night. I’m working on the fix.

Phone battery hell.  Temps around 40 on the first few mornings played hell with my phone battery, cutting the charge from 50 percent to zero.  I was surprised at this level of sensitivity to cold.  All I had to do was warm it back up, but figuring out how to keep it next to my body in the much colder temps next spring is a must.  Batteries like to be comfortable.

Last, my wife and I developed a system for staying in touch, not knowing how reliable phone service or email might be.  At each opportunity I texted her the AWOL guide NOBO mileage number as I passed landmarks and had phone service.  A simple 968.3 was easier to get through on one bar than something more complicated.  While I couldn’t always text my final daily location, we never went more that 12 hours being out of touch.

Stolen Sign Epiphany

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I lunched today with two fantastic southbound thru hikers, a couple of folks from the great state of Tennessee.  Their blog on www.trailjournals.com is so creative, I just had to meet them.

Since Maine, they’ve been living for the day when they’d slide south of the Mason-Dixon line and return to the land of sweet tea, mac and cheese, biscuits and gravy, and almighty grits. 

We met at my usual spot in Harpers Ferry.  The Appalachian Trail Conservancy headquarters is like a temple where thru hikers memorialize their hike with an official photo that is filed in the official data base forever.  They can bring their kids back decades later, open the book, and there they are in full glory.  There’s even a copy to be found on line, so you don’t actually have to visit.

As I drove in, I couldn’t miss them.  There they were marching up the hill distinguished by their bright orange pack covers.  The international orange pack jackets are supposed to protect hikers from deer hunters figuring no one would ever confuse a deer with a traffic cone – would they?

After the obligatory introductions and photo ceremony, we headed out for lunch in the historic district where John Brown’s raid on the arsenal and some anecdotal civil war history happened.

We found a eclectic eatery nestled in a house erected in the early 1800s.  We settled into a cozy patio carved from the rocky cliff behind the house.  Shaded on a hot day, it was nice.

The conversation superseded pouring over the menu, so we ordered on the fly. 

I need to digress a bit.  I have lived enough in the south to be an honorary southerner with certain southern culinary habits.  I like all of the aforementioned southern delicacies, and often substitute them for haute cuisine. 

Back to the story.  It wasn’t until I ordered sweet tea that my guests fully realized they were back on Confederate territory.  You see, someone has stolen the sign demarking the Mason – Dixon Line.  Without that reminder, who knew!

A quick check of the menu revealed mac and cheese and most of the other great southern dishes.  So, there they were.  Hike only half way done, but almost all the way home.

Trooper and Number 2, thanks for letting me have a tiny share of your most excellent adventure.  Godspeed.

The New Fall Lineup

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The indicators are all there.  School has started.  The first college football games play this weekend.  The automobile companies are ready to unveil next year’s models.  The TV networks are unwrapping their new fall lineups.  It’s fall.  My favorite time of the year.

As Labor Day approaches the anticipation of autumn excites the senses.  The pending ascendance of nutmeg as top spice in the kitchen helps complete the fashion shift from polo shirts to polar fleece.  By the time the frost is on the punkin’, snow can’t be far behind if you live far enough north.

If fall is a-comin’ then my mid-February Appalachian Trail start date is just around the corner.  Time to focus on the task at hand and lay down some boot tracks.

In any sport, cross training helps improve performance.  But, no matter how much cross training you do, you still have to get the reps in for the sport itself.  Football players lift weights, but they also block and tackle, baseball players hit, catch and throw and runners run.  It follows that hikers should hike.

The trail is pulling me out of my comfortable rut and telling me to start putting one foot in front of the other, get funky and stress test the shelter, sleep, food, and clothing systems that will be used during my thru hike.  Only a long trek can produce the realistic conditions needed.

The first item on the fall dance card is a joint National Park Service/Potomac Appalachian Trail Club two-day advanced trail maintenance workshop September 21 -22.

We’re scheduled to build erosion control structures with big rocks.  Think Triassic tinker toys, building blocks and Lincoln logs all rolled into one giant play set.

This stuff is fun, especially the part where we’ll be car camping at Mathews Arm Campground in Shenandoah National Park.  We get to bring a camp chair and coolers! They’ve got showers!! They’re even cooking the food for us!!!

I wonder if the cooks could just follow the class of ‘14 up the trail?   We could all chip in…

A couple of days after the workshop, it’ll be happy trails for for me on the 160 miles of AT from Waynesboro, Virginia to Harpers Ferry. That’s enough miles to find out what needs fixing. 

It has another advantage.  It simulates the longest leg without resupply that I’m planning in the spring.  That stretch is from Fontana Village, NC to Hot Springs, NC.  I’m not particularly high on the options in between, so a simple by pass strategy seems reasonable caveated by a severe weather opt out proviso.

Here’s where it gets personal.  This particular test hike is not happening by accident.  It will determine whether my body will stand up physically to a thru hike.  With all the weight training and running, you’d think it would be a cinch.  Let me clue you in on a secret.  It’s not even close.

Six years ago I severely injured my right ankle.  The injury includes the effects of tibial nerve damage that may not withstand the continuous pounding and dynamic stresses that long distance hiking generates over time.  If the outcome is going to be negative, it will be unambiguous and show up before the end of this little jaunt.  My thru hike could be over before it even begins.

If that isn’t enough, a chronic running injury called piriformis syndrome adopted me several years ago.  When the piriformis muscle gets irritated, it is literally a pain I the butt that hurts like hell. 

Of course the hurt has a bonus effect.  The swelling irritates the sciatic nerve.  And that my friends is a joy to experience, not to mention a potential show stopper! Both injuries are in the same leg. Has anyone ever hiked this thing on one leg?

 I’m actually shocked that my right leg and foot haven’t filed a class action law suit for abuse. 

The effects of these injuries can be moderated by systematic stretching, religiously limiting miles, and frequent rest.  But in spite of everything, piriformis misbehaves on its own schedule.  Moreover, the neuropathy in my right foot attended the same reform school and they’re both frequent recidivists. 

Drama aside, there’s plenty of optimism.  After all, I’ve made it through a year’s worth of heavy duty trail maintenance without problem.  My intermittent hikes with a full pack have gone well.  We just need more a more realistic test before actually reporting for duty in Georgia.

Triassic rocks and a little long haul truckin’ – a couple of nice shows for the fall schedule wouldn’t you say?  Ah, but it gets even better.   Get this.

Following a successful hike to Harpers Ferry, it’s immediately home to refit and head out to rendezvous with a member of the class of ’13 who flipped and is now southbound for Harpers Ferry on a Thanksgiving deadline.  I get to observe a real lab rat performing the act itself.

The social benefits of having a compatible hiking partner aside, a medicinal traipse through the Pennsylvania rocks will notch up the difficulty factor enough to be an absolute validation of my body’s ability to perform over six months.  Can’t wait.

What comes after Thanksgiving?

Last December I saw someone who gave me a great idea.  This guy was decked out in REI’s finest while hiking with a ginormous pack on the Capitol Crescent Trail – an old street car line that’s now a nice walking path from Silver Spring, Maryland to Georgetown, D.C.  Only later did I realize that he was training for the AT. 

Thanks to the anonymous hiker, I’ll devote several hours each day, regardless of weather, to following his footsteps while wearing a full pack until it’s time to do an about face, jump in the car and motor to the Peach State. 

BTW, I used to work at Georgia Tech.  Georgia is a nice place if you haven’t been there.

If everything works, I’ll feel a lot more physically prepared to play my part in the 2014 Appalachian Trail reality show.  I can only hope it’s not going to be  “Survivor – the Earnest Shackleton Edition.”  Whatever mamma nature plans to throw at us, it’s coming to Trail Journals in February.  Hope to see you there.  Sisu

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If the weather is ugly, ole Sisu is comin’ anyway.  He’s got backup.

Don’t Ask for Whom the Trekking Pole Clicks

 

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The Appalachian Trail in the central region is a lot quieter now.  The northbound (NOBO) bubbles are long gone.  Students are returning to school.  And the southbounders (SOBO) are still many miles to the north.  The trekking poles are quiet.

I took a long walk along the AT Friday NOBO from the Compton Gap parking lot in Shenandoah National Park.  It was a chance to test some gear and carry a full winter weight pack as a prelude to the Hoodlum’s monthly trail maintenance Saturday.

Wouldn’t you know it.  I started breaking spider webs right from the get go.  There aren’t too many things in this world that I actually hate, but spider webs are on the list.

Walk through a spider web and it sticks to your hair, glasses, face or arms in the most inconvenient and annoying way possible.  You almost never see ‘em comin’ either.

Then I thought about it.  If the trail was heavily draped in spider webs, that meant nobody had passed by in quite awhile.  Me and the critters had the woods to ourselves.  That’s pure joy.

The day was especially perfect.  Just warm enough and sunny with low humidity.   Then bingo!

I hadn’t yet schlepped a mile when a bear cub trundled across the trail not more than 50 feet ahead of me.  I think it may have been the tail end Charlie because I never did see the momma or a sibling, but I sure was lookin’ for all the obvious reasons. 

Later I saw a huge doe that was big enough to remind me of an elk.  At first I thought she was a buck, but they’re sprouting horns now, so she was just big.

Within a short time I cruised by the Tom Floyd shelter to read the register and snack.  I was greeted by a friendly toad, and best of all, lucky enough to find amusing entries from thru hikers whose blogs I’ve been following.  Some of the handwriting didn’t seem to match their personalities.  That was enough to make the day by itself.

Near the end of the return trip, a couple of bard owls serenaded me with their hooting – the decibel level can drown out a heavy metal rock band. I camped at the Indian Run maintenance hut with a few of my Hoodlum crewmates.  The owls played their rowdy concert all night long.  We loved it.

One gear item I was testing was my new (and first ever) set of trekking poles. 

Poles first began to appear back in the days when getting home to hike in the Colorado Rockies was regular fare.  They were seen most often in the hands of clueless tenderfeet.  These dude ranch types always appeared to have been outfitted by Abercrombie and Fitch.  This was back in the days when the store equipped great white hunter wanna bees headed out on city park safaris.

We (then) studly types thought they were pretty dorky.  Not for us.  Moreover they were a European invention where the trails are very unlike most of ours here in the U S of A.  So, in spite of solid recommendations that I try them, I never seriously considered acquiring poles.

Jump ahead to now, and trekking poles have almost become prosthetic aids for hikers.  Everybody’s leanin’ on ‘em.

Honestly, I was surprised.  The test didn’t go well.  As a cross country skier, I expected far better results.

The good news is that poles do provide thrust and tend to slow me down.  I desperately need slowing down.  Their use may be worth that much alone.

The bad news is that on ugly rocks and rough terrain, I kept much better balance without them – a key point when remembering how damaging and frequent falls tend to be.

The AT is mostly down hill from Compton Gap to Virginia highway 522.  The opposite is true for the return trip.  Just after Tom Floyd, the trail gets steep and rocky for a good stretch. 

From my point of view, the poles were useless in either direction in rough terrain.   I actually tripped on one pole trying to negotiate some large rocks, but enjoyed a fortunate outcome.

I didn’t like the tick, click, tick noise they make either.  The racket makes sneaking up on wildlife especially challenging.

Not going to toss ‘em.  Not gonna do it – yet. 

On September 24th my first long shakedown hike will be the 160 miles from Waynesboro, VA to Harpers Ferry, WV.  The trail is well maintained over that course by my PATC compadres. 

If the sticks haven’t won me over by the time I reach the Appalachian Trail Conservancy GHQ, they get aced off the gear list.  If that’s the case, I’ll have to find a new handy spot to stash my bright yellow duct tape.  Damn!

The trekking poles may click the entire length of the Appalachian Trail, but probably not for me.  Like my mom used to say, “Just because everyone else is doing it, doesn’t mean you have to. “  Could be that I’m just incorrigible.  Time will tell.

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A Hoodlum trail crew on the march.

The Value of Zero

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Some people know the cost of everything and the value of nothing.  That’s the rap on more than a few of the bean counters out there in the business world.

It’s a fact: 1 x 0 = 0.  That equals nothing, nada, zilch, zip, empty, nil, naught, nix, nicht, and without value.   It follows that 2 x 0 = 0 and so on.  So, zero’s worthless?  Don’t kid yourself.  On the AT a zero can be priceless.  A zero can save your hike.

Recently a hiker I’ve been following wrote a blog post embroidered with frustration and punctuated by despair.  It wasn’t unlike dozens we’ve seen in all seasons this year when hikers have reached their wits end.  Cold, heat, sow, rain, mud, bugs, discomfort and falls all add up.  My hiker friend, who has anonymity, was ready to cash it in and go home. 

Enough was enough.  The rain, mud, bugs and all finally added up.  But no, that wasn’t enough.  Then came the fall. It wasn’t the first, but this one was serious – a faceplant into a rock.  There was blood, and it hurt – a lot.  I was heartbroken for my friend.

Every hiker has an inner reservoir of mental resilience much like a checkbook balance. The balance ebbs and flows as a hike unfolds. 

Debits are obviously related to cumulative experiences with rain, cold, heat, snow, rain, plague, mud, fatigue, hunger, aches and pains, etc. 

Deposits come in many forms – trail magic, hot showers, town food, trail angels, new friends, and cool experiences, etc.  Everyone tries to keep the balance in positive territory.

My friend was in a mental overdraft situation – out of gas and without the will to even take another step.  Worse yet, there were no zeros on the schedule and the nearest exit was literally in the middle of nowhere, and probably the most austere “trail town” there is with a hostel.  Its only claim to fame is jewelry literally made out of dung and we’re not talkin’ buffalo chips!  Think of it as the only fly-over burg on the whole AT.

Then a miracle happened (Enter deus ex machina.)  in the form of two unplanned zero days (2×0) notable for the hostel owner’s generous hospitality and remarkably spiked with the company of a gaggle of friendly hikers who showed up to duck some nasty storms. 

Gently stir (not shake) it up over a couple of days and guess what?  Total rejuvenation.  Mental over haul complete!  Back on the trail and ready for the next challenge. 

 Cue the bugles.  Charge!  Never quit on a bad day, right?

 Who says zero has no value?  Sometimes a zero or two can be the difference between success and failure.  What’s that worth?

 

Say cheese!

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Everybody wants to make National Geographic quality photographs to document their hike on the Appalachian Trail.  Well, maybe most would just settle for some nice snaps of the folks and places that will help keep cherished memories alive long after the trail is done. 

Fact is that with a little luck related to available light, chance timing and the right clouds showing up over a placid pond …and you never know…  You certainly don’t need “professional” photographic equipment to make really good pictures.

Big boy camera gear is large, expensive and technically complicated.  Visualize those sideline photographers at sporting events with their howitzer-length lenses.  Besides, you’d almost need a caddy to drag a camera bag that size up and down the mountains.  The advanced amateur versions of these cameras and lenses produce fantastic photos, but still they are relatively expensive, bulky and heavy. 

Modern professional photography equipment is feather light compared to cameras back in the day. Here’s where I’m going to date myself.  I used to lug a Nikon FTN with a couple of lenses, filter stack, 2x tele extender and a dozen rolls of Kodachrome.  The weight was roughly the equivalent of three bricks.  The cube (amount of occupied space in my pack) was even more than that. 

When technology advanced to the Olympus OM-1 miniaturized 35mm SLR, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.  This leap forward reduced the weight by about two bricks and the cube by about half.  The downside was that those chunks of metal and glass still weighed a lot.  You always had to worry about running out of film.

Then came digital photography with cigarette pack-sized cameras.  The early cameras by Nikon and Sony took decent photos.  Now the options have expanded enormously, and the photographic quality exponentially, as sensors and chips have improved.

Good light-weight camera options are plentiful.  I know at least two video bloggers in the class of 13 who rely on their GoPro rigs. 

GoPros are the cameras that capture the helmet cam dare devil shots you see on TV. These small water and shock proof hummers mount on trekking poles, chest straps, helmets, snow boards, etc.  You do need WIFI to transfer their photos to your Drop Box, Flickr , Smug Mug or one of the other  web based photo sharing/scrapbook sites.

Plenty of other hikers are carrying small cameras by Lumix, Nikon, Sony and others. 

The vast majority seems to be using the camera built into their phone.  Unless you’re using expensive cameras, all the others will have technical trade-offs.  iPhones, for example, have difficulty handling high contrast lighting situations that the Photo Shop app can’t always fix.

For a good test of two cameras check out “Man Cub and Kit Fox Thru-Hike the Appalachian Trail 2012” on You Tube.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Tpvzsq2VAg 

The first half of this charming video was shot with an iPhone; the second with a GoPro.  With the exception of the underwater scenes, obviously shot with the waterproof GoPro, it’s hard to tell from the video which camera is which.  It ends with a special treat.  If you haven’t seen it, look for the marriage proposal atop Mt. Katahdin. 

The majority of hikers I’ve encountered who are blogging from the trail are using a smart phone as their primary camera.  It’s just easier to post directly to Trail Journals, BlogSpot, WordPress, Facebook and Twitter.  One sent her GoPro home.  She didn’t need it or its weight. 

Using your smart phone camera offers the Swiss Army knife advantage – one tool that can do many things.  With apps like Photo Shop and iMovie, a smart phone can produce amazing work.

The smartphone story only gets better.  The photographically savvy will want camera lenses. 

Never fear, lenses are here.  The website www.photojojo.com sells an array of equipment, and lenses that attach magnetically to any smartphone.  I have several, ranging from fisheye to 2x telephoto and they do work.  I also found an 8x telephoto that screws onto a threaded phone case that comes with it.  It does not interfere with the other lenses. 

What’s the secret to great photos?  I was fortunate enough to attend a lecture once at the National Geographic Society in Washington by one of the best wilderness photographers who ever lived.  That evening Galen Rowell’s presentation was entitled “The Edge of Light.”  Unfortunately, he met an early demise. 

Google Galen Rowell and check out his work.  You might not be able to duplicate it with a smart phone, but judging by some of the Appalachian Trail photos on TJ this year, you can get pretty close.

 

Marching to different drummers on the Appalachian Trail

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Sometimes you just need to march to the beat of a different drummer – something other than the tired soundtrack pounding in your head. It could be a little up-tempo mojo music will help your giddy up.  Other times distracting yourself from pain or rain may be necessary to preserve sanity itself.

The remedy for fashionable hikers this season, appears to be accessorizing with ear buds.   All colors of the rainbow are acceptable so long as they’re plugged into your favorite personal bowling alone device.

None of this is any surprise since most of us have evolved into smart device-dependent cyborgs these days.  Heads bowed like digital monks, we follow our screens wherever they lead us.  This prayerful posture may be the only typically urban behavior useful to hikers.  

Keeping your eyes on the prize (the trail) is not a virtue.  It’s a necessity!  On the trail, evil roots and rocks lurk in the muck and shadows hoping to ambush passing innocents stumbling by.  The most points are awarded for full face plants, broken bones and sprains. Bruises and strawberries gain far fewer.  Don’t fall for looking around and marveling at the scenery.  It pays hikers to bow so not to scrape.   (Groan.)

Some purists don’t believe in electronics on the trail.  Their view is that the natural soundtrack of the forest is the most authentic experience of all, and everything that anyone needs.  I agree with that sometimes, but not always.  HYOH, right? Not going to argue this one.

Occupying one’s mind is important since there’s a lot of down time spent waiting – alone in a shelter for severe weather to pass, for laundry, the post office, hitching a ride or just reading oneself to sleep.  We haven’t even discussed the big “L” – loneliness.

Variety is the spice of life.  The hikers I interviewed this summer talked about needing a wide range of music, pod casts, audio books as well as books to read.  Light-weight tablets such as the Kindle were popular.  TED Talks and NPR’s This American Life were mentioned most often as favorites.  

Juice!  The little electronic critters are efficient, but they eat power like hikers consume pancakes.  A wide range of axillary battery options exist ranging in price from about $100 to $20.  “Mo” is the operative concept.  Mo power equals mo money and mo weight.  A couple of hikers up-graded at Harpers Ferry, so pick your poison.

What to bring?  There’s the old double duty maxim.  Smartphones are definitely the digital equivalent to Swiss Army knives.  Most hikers said they used their phones for everything – calls, photos, music and reading.  Others preferred to husband their phone batteries and bring iPods and Kindles which individually are far more energy efficient at their singular functions.  For example, in temperate weather a Kindle battery lasts five weeks.  If you’re reading, a phone lasts a few short hours at best.  At any rate, a phone, iPod and a Kindle together weigh less than a decent size book and take up less space.

As for me, I’m schlepping an iPod nano and a Kindle in addition to my iPhone.  I will fill the nano with a variety of music for moods ranging from the need to jack up the amperage in difficult terrain to quiet music for relaxation and sleep time white noise.  I’m also including a variety of iTunes U lectures, pod casts and a particular favorite of mine – vintage radio dramas from http://www.radiospirits.com. “The Shadow knows!”  “Tired of that everyday grind?  We bring you ‘Escape!”  I also love the smell of “Gunsmoke!”

The AT Class of ’14 has an on-going music discussion on our Facebook page.  Folks are sharing a lot of great ideas and good music ideas there.

The story of a thru hike can be told in music.  When this year’s hikers blog something that reminds me of a song, it goes on a special AT playlist.  

Some topics are obvious – any song that names an AT state, rain, “Rocky Top,” or is by John Denver.  Then there are songs like “Hitching a Ride” and folk songs like “500 Miles.”  The old graves and churches remind me of country gospel.  For dark humor, there’s Queen’s “Another one bites the dust.”  Hanna Montana’s “Climb” is uplifting.  So far the playlist has 202 songs lasting12 hours.  Here’s hoping that helps carry me into the “Appalachian Spring” through “Shenandoah” on my way to “Almost heaven, West Virginia.”

I know of two hikers who ditched their iPod Shuffles for lack of capacity.  Music can get stale, but new material is easy to get.  There are useful apps that subscribe to free RSS feeds that automatically update your subscriptions with fresh stuff.  I have two.  One is ‘RSSRadio;’ the other is ‘Podcasts.’  TED Talks and vintage radio dramas come via the former and history lectures from the latter.

People love choice.  Of all the advice the Class of ’13 shared with me, the capacity to carry tunes and good books was high on their list.  Since I don’t know that many songs by heart and I love to read, I’m going to bring a little help fortified by a high capacity auxiliary battery.

The next post will cover what folks shared about photography on the Appalachian Trail.

Virtual Reality. Hiking the AT by correspondence course.

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A lot of people would love to thru hike the Appalachian Trail (AT), but they just can’t find the time or the money to do it when they want.  There has to be an alternative to having to wait until retirement. 

 Recently colleges and university professors started offering MOOCs.  (Massive Open Online Courses)  MOOCs remind me of the old days when students took college courses by correspondence if, for some reason, they couldn’t be present on campus. 

 Maybe it’s time to think outside the hiker box and solve this dilemma.

 If you can’t hike the AT for real, how about doing it by correspondence course?  You could make it legit with reading, quizzes and simulated practical exercises such as practicing PUDs (pointless ups and downs) and learning how to stumble and fall while freezing, baking and boiling?

 Imagine what the AT correspondence course might be like.  Cue the dream sequence music….

 It’s late winter.  You’ve registered, and there you are anxiously awaiting arrival of your course materials.  You hitch or hike to your local post office.  Hey Mr. Postman!  Look and see.  Is there a letter or package for me? 

 Lesson One:  Reading Material.  Find a cell phone provider that radiates one bar in your area.  On that phone, read a dozen Trail Journal blogs every day.  Fill out the quiz you will receive by email by typing long answers with your pfat thumbs. You get bonus points for doing it while standing in the rain or snow.

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Later, the doorbell rings.  You look out side.  Looming in your driveway is a ginormous Terex MT6300 dump truck.  It carries 400 tons in a single load!

Just your luck.  Today it’s brimming with specially sharpened and oiled Pennsylvania-grade hiking stones. 

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Lesson Two: Terrain.  The MT6300 dumps a mountain right there on your driveway.  Leave it be.  It’s for practicing PUDs.  But, do spread some of the extra stones a foot deep over half of your yard.  You’ll be having your sleep on the rocks for the next six months. 

 Dig up the other half of your yard and turn it into a swamp.  Don’t forget to wet the rocks frequently and scatter the rubber snakes found in the miscellaneous parts package.

Of course you scrounged up everything on the equipment list.

Lesson Three:  Drinking water.  Find a mud puddle and fill your water bottles.  Add two Aqua Mira pills to each.  Wait 30 minutes, then drink.

 Just a little later, a muddy brown UPS food truck pulls up with cases of dehydrated oatmeal, spaghetti and jars of peanut butter, tortillas, pop tarts, and Knorr noodles with tuna.  Yummy!

Lesson Four:  Indoor environmental simulation.  This is the one time you’re allowed inside.  Put on your rain gear.  Prepare a meal and go into your bathroom.  Eat the meal while standing in a cold shower.  It’s also the last shower you’re ever going to get.

Lesson Five:  Blogging.  Write a Trail Journal blog about how great the meal tasted and how much fun you’ve had so far.

Obviously, the course is just warming up.  With each passing weekend you hike or hitch to the post office for new lessons.  Why mail?  WIFI and cell phone connectivity is iffy out on the trail.  We need to simulate as much realism as possible.  That’s why you can’t take this course on line.

Let’s fast forward.  Weeks pass.  You hike up, down and all around your rock pile for eight hours every day.  Your feet blister.  Toe nails turn black and fall off.  Finally spring arrives.

Lesson 75:  Flora and fauna.  Plant your yard full of the poison ivy you received by FEDEX.  Set out pots of stagnant water.  Time for the mosquitos and ticks.  When nature calls, good luck with that.

And so it goes on endlessly.  Each night after work, every weekend, your two-week vacation, month in and month out.  In circles you march. 

Lesson 82:  Mud flopping.  Practice falling into the muddy part of your yard while wearing your pack.  Roll over and do it again, and again, and again.  Extra points for breaking your hiking poles.

Those special high quality Pennsylvania rocks shred your boots.  You fall.  Ankles and knees twist, yet you persevere endlessly onward in the rain, sleet, snow, humidity and burning summer sun.  You even have to climb an extension ladder and hike over your roof a few times.

Each night you file a blog post about your wonderful experiences.  Once a week on the way to or from the post office you stop at Mickey D’s to pig out on burgers and fries just like a real hiker.

Last Lesson:  Climb to the top of your rock pile.  Take stereotypical photo with cardboard Katahdin sign facsimile and declare victory!

If you enjoyed the shower sequence, you’re qualified.  Sign right up.

Slaying Vampires

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Gotta call it like I see it.  Ticks are vampires.  They engorge themselves with mammalian blood.  The redder, the better!

 Ticks aren’t picky.  They want blood, and don’t much care where they get it.  They love all 31 flavors.

 Worse yet, ticks are stealthy.  They hang out on tall grass, weeds and low hanging branches.  The idea is to score a passing Happy Meal in the form of a hapless mouse, squirrel, deer, bear or even the occasional hiker. 

Hikers must taste good ‘cause the ticks sure seem to like ‘em.  Unfortunately, they are too small to drive miniature wooden toothpicks through their evil little hearts.

Currently a research scientist funded by grants from the National Park Service and the Appalachian Trail Conservancy is thru hiking for the purpose of studying ticks.  He has reported in his trail journal that most hikers attachment to ticks seems to come from trailside vegetation, not the shelters where he has found few ticks.

 The Hoodlum maintenance crew gathers on the third Saturday of most months to groom hiking trails in the northern district of Shenandoah National Park. This trip tick habitat reduction was the mission of my work team.  That’s a fancy way of sayin’ weed whacking and pruning trailside trees and bushes. 

 Even if you’re a yard work klutz at home, you’ll really jump on this.  It may be more fun to saw blowdowns or build check dams, but anything done to reduce exposure to Lyme disease is all good. 

 So what do trail maintenance crews do after the equipment is cleaned at the end of a hot sweaty and buggy day?  Here’s the secret.  You don’t have to ring the dinner bell more than once! 

 The North District Hoodlums retire to the Indian Run maintenance hut where some camp overnight and most everyone shares in the potluck dinner, swaps stories and revels in party games until the stars brighten and the fire fades.

 The AT is a complex system with a rich culture.  Trail maintenance is done by thousands of volunteers from Georgia to Maine.  It is usually hard physical and dirty work.  Some of it is mundane.  All if it is necessary to keep the AT active and safe.  Best of all, it’s time well spent with fascinating people who share a common love for the Appalachian Trail.

For those who discover this blog in preparation for AT hiking, I hope this little bit of insight deepens your understanding of the behind the scenes work that helps improve the the trail and improves all of our odds for success.