Ghosts of Hikers Past

March 8, 2015 / jim fetig / 6 Comments

Neels Gap, GA, Sunday March 8, 2015 — Neels Gap is where a lot of hikers go to die, that is if they make it that far. Around a third of the erstwhile starters give up at this spot, just under 40 miles from the start point.

Hikers quit for a range of reasons. This early it’s usually because they are so out of shape that they can’t continue or they realize that they are totally unprepared for the weather conditions – either low temperatures, snow or rain. Many are carrying very heavy packs stuffed with irrelevant gear or the wrong gear.

I met a young married couple and the husband’s brother last week near Neels Gap. They seemed fit enough, but said they were postponing their thru hike until they learned more about functioning winter weather. They realized they weren’t prepared. They made an intelligent decision. They also became a statistic.

If they make it to Neels Gap, the heavies have an option. The trail actually passes through the breezeway of a building in which a conveniently located outfitter just happens to be.

The staff at Mountain Crossings are all former thru hikers who perform pack shakedowns upon request. In this way hikers can dump their frying pans, coffee pots, axes, outsized gear and the like. Of course they can replace their iron with titanium or other miracles of modern materials science, all for a price of course.

My favorite part of Mountain Crossing is the boot tree. Ill-fitting blistering boots get tossed over its branches like Halloween decorations serving as a goulish reminders of painfully dashed hopes.

The trail from White Blaze serial number 1 on Springer Mountain to Neels Gap is well maintained and rather gentle compared to the AT over all. It’s primary terrain feature is Blood Mountain. It’s a well-switch backed trail but challenging to anyone in less than top shape humping a heavy pack. Blood Mountain is aptly named. The notches on it’s gotcha stick are many.

Trail magic helps a lot of folks get over the hump. Trail Angels cook hot dogs, pancakes and coffee at various road crossings. Bless them all!

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.

Back to the future

February 14, 2015 / jim fetig / 10 Comments

February 14, 2015 — I’m packing up and headed for some training in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. The Appalachian Trail Conservancy (ATC) has a base camp there used for training year round and for trail crews in the summer.

I’ll be joining a group of ridgerunners. Ridgerunners patrol in season the Appalachian Trail (AT) from beginning to end. The onset of thru hiking season is just around the corner, and it’s time to get ready.

My role is to test the use of volunteers to augment the paid seasonal staff. The difference is that I’ll be there only for the month of March. Everyone else is there for the duration of hiking season – until autumn.

The need for the test is that AT (and other trails) is expected to see a large increase next year in thru hike attempts in response to the movies “Wild” in theaters now, and “A Walk in the Woods” which will be in theaters before summer’s end.

Historical data establishes a direct correlation between increases in thru hike attempts and popular mass media about hiking or the AT. Books, television, videos have done it every time. Now we have Hollywood to help drive up the numbers next year.

My patrol area is the AT’s 78 miles in Georgia. We walk five days and spend four nights on the trail. The sixth day is off. Of interest, we hike southbound (SOBO) for the purpose of meeting as many thru hikers as possible. Once we reach Springer Mountain, the Georgia Appalachian Trail Club shuttles us back north to do it all again.

Among our duties is to help hikers as we can, educate them on Leave No Trace™ principles and trail etiquette, pick up litter, do minor trail repairs, and report issues we cannot handle. These hikes are not about miles. They’re about the smiles.

The forecast isn’t friendly, at least for next week. It’s going to be colder than a well digger’s backside in the Smoky’s. So much so that we’ve been told that we’ll be spending our nights at the basecamp and none sleeping outside. Yea! No sense practicing being miserable.

The weather in Georgia will probably whip back and forth between ugly and nice with huge improvements toward the end of March. Still, the southern Appalachians are high enough that snow can fall into April, even when the temperatures in Atlanta and points south are cooking.

I’m looking forward to some former stomping grounds. Dick’s Creek Gap is just short of the North Carolina border and the northern edge of the patrol area. Blood Mountain is in the center of the sector. It’s got some interesting native American history with some ornery bear activity on the side.

I plan to blog daily, but publish them as every fifth or sixth day as time permits just like I did on my thru hike. So stay tuned. If anyone has read Bill Bryson’s “A Walk in the Woods, you know this could be interesting.

Full speed ahead

August 4, 2014 / jim fetig / 1 Comment

Chairback Gap Lean-to, ME, AT NOBO mile 2096.8, Wednesday July 30, 2014 — Maine is a land of contrasts. For the past several days we’ve been breezing along at 2 mph or better. Today slowed to molasses plodding along around 1 mph.

Rock falls and ledges may not have dominated the landscape today, but there were enough of them to seriously erode progress. In between the pacing was brisk.

The shelter popped up at 4:15 pm, too early to stop, but too late to start the nine- mile push to the next one. So, I stopped and used the extra time to cleanup.

Right now it ‘s 6:30 pm and two NOBOs I met in Monson just pulled in. One fell yesterday about four miles into the day and cut his hand requiring four stitches. They’re just now catching up.

This morning’s gift was the most spectacular view on the trail so far. The vista sprawled well beyond the scope of of the grandest cyclorama imaginable. Purple mountain layers rippled across the horizon snuggled by cloud boas weaving in and out of the distant valleys while an azure blue lake invited a high dive from the high cliff where I perched.

The light was just right. I didn’t want to leave. I plan to return to the 100-mile wilderness in the future when I can stay put and dig for treasure when and where I find it.

I beat the rain now drumming the shelter’s tin roof. The prob is for more tomorrow, slowing the next day. I am thankful for small victories like this.

The daily temps are blessedly cool enough that strenuous up hill doesn’t generate extraordinary amounts of sweat. Tonight , as last, a light jacket was necessary to ward off the chill at dinner time.

Tomorrow is a rough day of rock fall and steep but short hills. “Can’t wait,” (he lied).

River ford.

Young moose. Far bank. Did not survive.

Old trail marker.

The beginning of the end

August 4, 2014August 4, 2014 / jim fetig / 4 Comments

Long Pond Stream Lean-to, ME, AT NOBO mile 2085.9, Tuesday July 29, 2014 — The Hundred Mile Wilderness is neither 100 miles nor is it a true wilderness. There are logging and other access roads everywhere. I even saw six muggles (day hikers) today. All of that is irrelevant, however. I’m in now, and when I get out, this journey will be complete.

There are 99.4 miles remaining. That’s less than 100 folks. Yea!

In Maine you never know how to plan. I estimated a daily rate of 10 miles knowing the average is 8-12 days. We got a ton of rain yesterday and I thought the additional fresh mud and rising rivers would slow me more than it did.

We did have an unexpected ford today bringing the total to four thanks to the rain. Changing foot gear on either shore is a pain, but now that I have it systematized, it goes pretty quickly.

Today’s hike passes two spectacular waterfalls. I got some slowmo video that will look great in the final anthology video.

I’ve run into several southbounders who have fallen into the rivers. Of course their packs weren’t properly packed for rain let alone a dunking. Needless to say, there is gear hanging out to dry everywhere around the campsite. As a hiker named Hutch might have observed about them, “Ain’t never gonna make it.” This is a teaching moment.

FYI, my pack is packed in such a way to make its contents waterproof. It is so water tight that it could serve as a floatation device for an indefinite period. Nothing vulnerable will get wet or damaged. This is the product of my own teaching moments over the years.

The weather will deteriorate through the week. If I get too far ahead of schedule, I’ll risk over-running my supply drop which will be cached at the mid-point Aug. 1. I may have to weather zero at a shelter to slow down. That does not mean I’m hoping for crumby weather.

Beautiful day today. Cool temps. Few bugs. What a life!

Not exactly accurate.

A sample of the lost and a abandoned gear along the trail.

Beaver dam.

Nature is mysterious.

Stopped short

August 4, 2014August 5, 2014 / jim fetig / 4 Comments

Wadleigh Stream Lean-to, ME, AT NOBO mile 2147.1, Saturday August 2, 2014 — The morning dawned promising rain. The cloud deck hung low, the barometer was falling and the air thick and slow. I dallied in my morning routine, lingering over my coffee and pop tarts. I was in no hurry.

My feet dried out nicely overnight. The damage was less than I feared, but I was worried about making them worse. My choices for distances were, in round numbers, between hiking 10 and 20. After doctoring my foot, I opted for the lesser mileage and rest that might aid in the recovery.

Tomorrow will require 19 miles which will put me in perfect position, four miles short of Abol bridge and 13 short of The Birches Lean-tos and campground, the launch point for summiting Mt. Katahdin.

There’s a store at Abol that sells ice cream! Be absolutely certain that I’ll be there when it opens.

Barring some setback, it looks like Tuesday is the big day. The forecast is for clear weather. Fingers crossed.

Saw loads of fungi along the way and will include some of what I saw.

Meanwhile, my hiking day stopped at 1:30 pm when I reached this shelter. I learned reading the register that Swayed, my partner for 750 miles, pulled up here also rather than pushing too hard before he summited last week. The immediate threat of rain is gone, so I hope to dry some things out while I am here.

About two hours after my arrival, Saturday struck with a vengeance. I did note that this place is neither 100 miles nor a wilderness. In proof, I offer the loud and I noxious Boy Scout troop that just pulled in, fresh after a short walk from a nearby road. So much for the rest. The good news is that their leaders just took them swimming at a nearby pond. Those who opted not to swim are upstream contaminating the shelter’s water source. Didn’t work that way when I was a Scout, and particularly when I was an adult Scout leader.

More rain is in offing for tomorrow. Unfortunately, today’s opportunities to view Katahdin were clouded out. Maybe my luck will change, but I doubt the clouds tomorrow will offer much of a break. I also plan to blow this pop stand really early. I want a running start to what promises to be a long day – much longer if it rains heavily. On – on!

Really?

Zero Day

July 28, 2014July 11, 2018 / jim fetig / 3 Comments

Monson. ME, Monday July 28, 2014 — It’s 62F outside and rainy. Dreary is more like it, and an apt description for this threadbare and struggling little backwoods hamlet.

Monson doesn’t have much – only a few streets and a very nice lake. Unfortunately the lake doesn’t stand out. It’s one of a thousand just like it dotted all over Maine.

The slate industry that founded this once prosperous hamlet is all but defunct. The mill still makes a few counter tops and sinks but not much else. It’s a tiny shadow of the massive industry that operated here until the 50s. After that, the railroad left and pulled up its tracks. It doesn’t get much more final than that.

There’s still a Finnish community here. They came originally to quarry the stone. Names ending in NEN are the legacy of the hope and opportunity that once attracted their immigrant forefathers.

Most of the dilapidated buildings along Main St. are for sale as are what seems to be about one-third of the houses. Monson is just too far north to attract a ton of urban folks in search of summer cottages. So, the sellers hope and wait patiently for their escape ticket.

Life here is hard. The climate is harsh. The ground is rugged. The winters are brutal. The conditions toughen and harden the souls who survive here. Hardly anyone smiles.

A southern hiker at Shaw’s observed this morning that the people here aren’t friendly like they are in the south. In fact, he described them as rude. That’s not the whole story when life is as unforgiving as the stone upon which this town is built.

I’m having lunch at Pete’s. It’s a new business that radiates optimism through the gloom that seems to hang around here like the stale smell of garlic in a turn of the century New York tenement. I hope Pete’s prospers. Hikers will love the homemade baked goods.

Monson seems like a metaphor for dozens of dying towns in rural America. I’ve hiked through too many of them not to see the pain of their slow spiraling demise.

I’m reminded of the dying farm towns and whistle stops in the mid and far west. Change can be Darwinian in it’s callus destruction of lives, culture and place. As Americans and humans, we should remember that these are people, not statistics.

When you say “For Sale,” you’ve said it all.

2018 Update: This story has a happy ending!

https://wgme.com/news/local/maine-town-undergoes-transformation-thanks-to-artistic-visionaries

Lovely day

July 25, 2014July 25, 2014 / jim fetig / Leave a comment

Crocker Cirque Campsite, Me, AT NOBO mile 1989.8, Monday July 21, 2014 — As the aphorism goes, no rain, no pain, no Maine. Yesterday was a trifecta. Rain and pain in Maine. Today was the opposite.

Sunshine was welcome all day. It got a bit warm during the climbs and I drank four liters of water while hiking and one more upon reaching camp.

The tendinitis contracted from the beating I took in the White Mountains and western Maine is under control. I’m delighted.

Actually being in Maine, that’s a bonus, believe me.

The trail was generally good today allowing for a 14 mile outing. The ledger recorded two river crossings, neither of which required me to take my boots off thanks to convenient stepping stones and a well placed plank on the Carrabassett.

Sorry. No pics of the crossings. My gear, including my camera, is always double bagged in case I fall in.

I’m parked in a campsite, not a shelter. The next shelter is 12.4 miles and that’s for tomorrow. Meanwhile, my tent has taken its share of wear and tear. Big Agnes (manufacturer) promised to Express Mail a new stuff sack and poles to Rangely. Only the former arrived. Let’s hope the new poles are in Caratunk.

Today’s milestone is less than 200 miles to go. Tomorrow I will break the 2,000 mile barrier before the day is done. The countdown has begun.

Tent platforms are necessary where flat ground does not exist.

Real ankle busters.

I’m starting to appreciate this kind of trail.

Sat on the stump for lunch.

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.