On the Road

July 29, 2015August 10, 2015 / jim fetig / 14 Comments

Chainsaw sculpture at Bears Den Hostel, Va.

Northern Virginia, July 17 – 28, 2015 — In deference to Garrison Keillor, it wasn’t a quiet week anywhere around my town. It was busy as could be.

We had the Appalachian Trail Conservancy (ATC) biannual meeting at Shenandoah University in Winchester, Va. where I led two hikes – more to come on that, followed by a trail construction day with an environmentally oriented youth group from Yonkers, NY called Groundwork.

In between a small group of North District Hoodlum sawyers schlepped our chainsaws up to Bears Den on Saturday to buck two large dead trees that were felled by professional arborists.

Did I mention that the daytime temps averaged over 90 F with high humidity the whole time? So there I was, producing infinite amounts of sweaty washing while our still-under-warrenty washing machine awaits a new motor. No, I have not sublet any space at our house to anyone named Murphy.

The first hike was a strenuous 16-miler from the Reno Monument on Maryland's South Mountain south to Harpers Ferry, WV. The heat took its toll.

The first hike was a strenuous 16-miler on the AT from the Reno Monument on Maryland’s South Mountain south to Harpers Ferry, WV. The heat took its toll.

Monument to Civil War journalists at Maryland’s Gathland State Park.

The second hike was a five-miler on the First Manassas civil war battlefield on the 153rd anniversary of the battle to the day. It was hard to imagine what it was like for the soldiers who wore woolen uniforms in suffocating heat and humidity. This is at the “stone bridge” for those familiar with the battle.

We started the morning with a preview of the battle in the visitors center.

This stone house and former tavern served as a hospital during the battle. The battle’s culmination point on Henry Hill is just above this structure.

At Bears Den. The sawyer was approximately 80 feet in the air. Couldn’t pay me to do that. This dead tree plus another threatened to block the access road if blown down in a storm. The need to preempt that is self evident.

A severed branch smacks the road with a big boom!

Wearing my sawyer hat. I need to iron my neck and maybe use some spray starch.

Head Hoodlum Janice Cessna briefs the young folks from Groundwork.

Working Hard! It’s important to make the experience hands-on. Here the kids are building a check dam which is a structure designed to slow water.

Completed waterbar – a structure designed to direct water off the trail.

Garbage Man

March 2, 2015May 22, 2015 / jim fetig / 12 Comments

Neel Gap, GA, Saturday March 1, 2015 — Beep – beep – beep – beep. That’s the sound of your friendly hiker garbage man backing out of a shelter with his pack full of detritus others have left behind.

When I staggered into the hostel at Neel Gap with ten pounds of junk. The most galling was the four liters of frozen water.

Seems some folks didn’t realize that you take your water bottle to bed with you when it’s freezing outside at night. So they left the frozen water behind for yours truly to haul thirty miles to the nearest trash receptacle. That’s not to mention the other junk in the photo.

This really isn’t a complaint. That’s why we are here, to help the hikers understand how to do the right thing. When they don’t, we remove the trash before it can serve as a bad example to others.

We also remove blowdown. Sawing keeps you warm, believe me.

In the morning the snow reminds me of a stiff starched white shirt. Sort of crunchy when you put it on. The weather is turning so by noon the snow is as limp as that same starched white shirt on a Georgia summer day. Today the slush was three inches deep with about an inch of water as a top coat.

Tomorrow the forecast is for rain. That’ll remove the snow and slush, but only by turning the trail into a river in the process.

Throughout all of this, the hikers seem intrepid. After all, they’ve come 50 miles. Maine can’t be far ahead.

Blueberries!

July 28, 2014July 28, 2014 / jim fetig / 1 Comment

Moxie Bald Mountain Lean- to, ME, AT NOBO me 2,052.9, Saturday July 26, 2014 — Today looked like a mundane bust with absolutely nothing about which to write until late this afternoon when everything changed.

This morning Eric, the owner of the Sterling Inn dropped me off at the Caratunk (don’t ya just love that name) trailhead around 0745 a.m. The walk would be an easy 18 miles with only a couple of bumps along the way, and that’s the way it was.

The mud is drying, but thunderstorms were forecast for late afternoon just In case the bogs need refreshing. Not to worry, this is 2 mph + territory. Compared to most everywhere else in this state, I was flying along today averaging nearly 3 mph. I’m surprised I didn’t get a speeding ticket.

As the approach climb to Moxie Bald Mtn. accelerated, a miracle happened. Ripe blueberries were everywhere! Yup, and having been forewarned by Tim at Harrison’s Camps, a half gallon zip lock was at the ready. Filled it, I did — and ate ’em too! All of them. Yum!!!

Just past Moxie I noticed that the water bars used to control erosion on hiking trails had been freshly scraped out. The brush had been pruned too. I was hoping to meet the trail crew at the shelter, and there they were.

We talked the finer points and challenges of maintaining trails in Maine. It was cool to learn how they canoe in because that’s not only the shortest route, but it’s the easiest way to carry heavy tools. They were also boating in new lumber piece by piece to build a replacement privy. That’s dedication.

Never again will I complain about tough times in Shenandoah National Park. In comparison, we have it easier than we’ll ever know.

Tomorrow is a 15 mile jaunt to Monson, the gateway to the “Hundred Mile Wilderness.” I have two food packages and I’m hoping my replacement tent poles are there. The only wrinkles are two river fords and the predicted rain. I’m going to try to burn up the trail anyway. I can use all the extra time I can get. There’s a bit of logistical arranging to be done including food caches and the extraction from Baxter State Park to Millinocket.

Only one hundred thirty two miles remaining before the final sunset on this most excellent adventure. Until then, I am enjoying the noisy loons this evening. It seems there are two nesting pairs on the pond arguing over territory. Their audio fireworks are forming a spectacular memory.

Majestic Maine

July 25, 2014July 25, 2014 / jim fetig / 2 Comments

Little Bigalow Lean-to, ME, AT NOBO mile 2014.4, Wednesday July 23, 2014 — The Bigalow peaks are in the record books. That’s not to say it’s all easy from here. It’s not, but the long hard slogging climbs are done, all but one – Katahdin itself.

The majesty of Maine remains on display. From the endless horizon to lovely lakes; from monster boulders to rocky trail, this state is special and stands out among the other 13 through which the trail transits.

This rugged country is especially challenging to the maintenance crews – volunteers one and all. The hard rock safety installations and endless miles of bog bridging could not be in place without incredible dedication. Some of these folks have to hike several days just to reach the area they need to work. Did I mention how heavy their tools are? I’m in awe of what they do and have done.

The Bigalows are special. As I cleared Avery peak, I wanted to linger, but thunder rolled in the distance pushing me to get past the final peak, Little Bigalow Mountain, before Thor could fry me with one of his missiles.

I barely made it off Little Bigalow’s slab rock top when someone up there turned on a remarkably cold shower. The motivational zig zag mood lighting spurred the pace just a little.

I arrived at the lean-to feeling like a wet puppy, but I was in good company. At the moment, we’re waiting for more drown rats to float in before someone throws the dark switch to mark the official end of the day.

Tomorrow the trail promises to be relatively flat. I’m planning to dash the 17 miles to Harrison’s Pearce Pond Camp which is noted for it’s massive breakfast. Stay tuned to see if I make it.

A woman simply disappeared without a trace on the trail last year. The area isn’t difficult or dangerous. Sounds fishy to me.

No bridges in Maine. Bull.

Tonight’s campsite.

Maine worries more about squirrels than bears! Not a good message for southbounders who are headed dead on into bear country.

Old fire tower.

Hikes off trail for water. Passed through this keyhole to get some.

Entrance.

Liquid sunshine!

Bemis and Old Blue

July 8, 2014July 8, 2014 / jim fetig / 5 Comments

Pine Ellis Hostel, Andover, 13 mile slack pack, NH Monday July 7, 2014 —
We opened up this morning with a river ford , except we cheated. We didn’t even get our feet wet. Fallen tree trunks make fine bridges.

Early in the day I stumbled into a British couple with whom I’ve been corresponding since planning for this hike began. I walked over a rock dome and who should appear but Nigel Berry and his wife Christine. They have a wonderful blog that’s well worth the read.

Once again the hiking was backward (southbound). The direction accounted for a long ride to the trailhead in the morning capped by a short skip back to the hostel at the end of the day.

Today’s scenery featured more rebar than anything else. It’s indicative that the AT in Maine’s reputation isn’t entirely deserved. General people describe trail conditions with several adjectives including unimproved, rough, eroded, rocky, rooty, challenging, and even dangerous. Let’s just say for now that it’s more complicated than that.

All-in-all, another great day is in the books.

Just in case the perspective fools you. This is near vertical.

Pointless Ups and Downs

June 9, 2014June 9, 2014 / jim fetig / 5 Comments

Happy Hill Shelter, Vt., AT NOBO mile 1,737.3, Sunday June 8, 2014 — The sky is blue. The leaves are brown. The trail goes up. The trail goes down.

I recited this little ditty all winter. It’s still true except that the leaves are now green. Today was a pleasant hike that was all about PUDs – pointless ups and downs.

Trail conditions were the only other remarkable note. The mud in this section has dried up for all intents and purposes. Only residual blood sucking insects remain. They were relentless today, but oceans of DEET kept them at bay.

The uncut weeds are a problem. A study last year proved that the vector for deer ticks, the carriers of Lyme Disease, is trailside vegetation against which hikers brush. They also help spread invasive species in the same motion.

It’s a jungle out there and all if us are concerned that we won’t find all the deer ticks that find us. I just wish the trail overseers would be more diligent about keeping the weeds and other vegetation cut back.

Four miles to Starbucks in the morning. Indeed! I can use the caffeine.

Last night my blog was so boring that I fell asleep while typing.

True story. If it’s reputation holds true, I think NH hiking will eliminate the boredom.

Don’t Ask for Whom the Trekking Pole Clicks

August 24, 2013 / jim fetig / 2 Comments

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 24^th 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.

A Hoodlum trail crew on the march.

Slaying Vampires

July 22, 2013 / jim fetig / Leave a comment

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.

Cool Rocks. Bad Trail. Hoodlums’ Mission: Fix it.

June 4, 2013 / jim fetig / 4 Comments

Hiking trails are like smart phone aps. Sometimes they need to be up-graded. Unlike phone aps, you can’t just punch up the ap store and push a button.

Upgrading a hiking trail is hard work. Normal maintenance such as weeding, clearing blowdowns, and repairing check dams and water bars only maintains the status quo. Adding features takes it to a whole new level. This is the story behind a trail upgrade that changed everything.

The Appalachian range is chock full of remarkable rock formations. Many of these iconic nature works are on the Appalachian Trail (AT) itself which has been purposefully routed so hikers can appreciate them. Others are nearby on side trails marked by blue blazes.

One blue blaze you hardly notice passing by crosses the AT on Compton’s Peak in Shenandoah National Park (SNP). It leads to a delightful, and one of the more geologically interesting columnar basalt formations in the eastern U.S. It’s well worth a look.

Compton Peak columnar basalt formation.

Better yet, the trail intersection is about a mile south of the Compton Gap parking lot on Skyline Drive. It’s an easy approach hike to the top of Compton Peak. With the side trail, it’s a snappy 2.5 mile round trip. Wow! Let’s go.

Not so fast. – literally. The blue blaze was not only steep, but was treacherous featuring spring-saturated mud-covered boulders and unstable talus on the final half. Not fun to hike and an easy way to turn an ankle or worse.

That’s a problem. The solution: Send in the Hoodlums.

By way of full disclosure, the Hoodlums aren’t criminals. This grubby group of trail maintainers just looks that way. In real life they’re educated professionals who love the AT, Shenandoah National Park. They volunteer their time, sweat and energy to protect and maintain them for everyone to enjoy.

The moniker came by way of an unknown tourist in SNP. When she saw a gang of filthy, tired folks staggering out of the woods, she was overheard observing that they looked like a bunch of “hoodlums” to her, and a brand was born.

Over three hard days last week, a Hoodlum crew of seven led by three National Park Service pros proved that rolling rock isn’t always a brand of beer as we pried, pushed, rolled, dragged, levered, and pounded chunks of basalt, some weighing hundreds of pounds, into 64 stone steps and hundreds of feet of rip rap.

When we were done, the new trail was like a stone escalator down and back up. Thanks to National Park Service folks – Don, Eric and Lyndon, plus PATC Hoodlums – Wayne, Noel, Scott, Steve, Jim, Amy and Cindi – we got ‘er done in three days. We used the last day of our volunteer week to build stone erosion control structures further south on the AT.

At the end we were an exhausted and bruised, but happy lot. As a bonus, I was able to meet some of the thru-hikers I’ve been following this year. Hike on folks, and have fun ya’ll. Meanwhile, we’ll keep improving the AT for those yet to come.

Hiker Superhighway

May 19, 2013May 19, 2013 / jim fetig / Leave a comment

Hiker Superhighway

Sometimes dark clouds do have a silver lining.

Yesterday fog smothered Shenandoah National Park. Mist and light rain took our trail maintenance project of moving ginormous rocks off the docket. That might have meant a long climb for a short slide given the wasted driving time.

But instead, Eureka! It turned into a gift of time to hike. Knowing a number of thru-hikers I’ve been following were in the park, I took a three-and-a-half hour southbound stroll on the hiker superhighway in hopes I might make a connection. No luck, but it was a great 14-mile hike. It also reinforced the need to keep upping my level of fitness.

I did stumble upon a ghost hiker though. You couldn’t have made this guy up – except Coleridge already did. His gaunt, frightening looks actually startled me as he materialized silently out of the fog. When I finally realized he was there, my first thought was that he was a lost crew member from the Flying Dutchman.

He looked more than spooky, featuring beady, burned-out eyes that peered out from the dark depths of his edgy anorexic cheek bones.

He was definitely a thru-hiker sporting the traditional grubby, sun-faded uniform. His standout fashion item was a badly distressed Nantucket red pair of hiking pants that were richly accented by crusty salt stains. Drying socks and shirts decorated his pack.

This tall and thin, cleanly shaven, gray-haired apparition really did look like death warmed over.

As a purely defensive move, I said, “Hi! How’s it going? Silence. “You okay?” In return he frowned, “Yes, thank you.” End of conversation.

We each kept walking in opposite directions. I didn’t see him on the return leg.

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.

trail maintenance

On the Road

Garbage Man

Blueberries!

Majestic Maine

Bemis and Old Blue

Pointless Ups and Downs

Don’t Ask for Whom the Trekking Pole Clicks

Slaying Vampires

Cool Rocks. Bad Trail. Hoodlums’ Mission: Fix it.

Hiker Superhighway