Woohoo! Made it to Mass!
But before my entries, a note on writing:
Journaling about this trip has been a fun learning experience. I started out journaling in the “Notes” app on my phone, jotting down daily thoughts in my tent each night. I had to stretch 1.5 phone charges over 9 days, so it was pretty much the only thing I was using my phone for. Then, I realized that I wanted to add pictures and, of course, emojis (🤗 is hands down my favorite…or should I say, hands up?), so I downloaded the Day One app for journaling. After deciding to share the journal, I began emailing the daily entries to Rocío in chunks, which she would then upload to WordPress by cutting and pasting from the emails. Then, my brilliant wife-to-be suggested that I just write directly in WordPress with ongoing drafts and then post when I get into towns.
So here is my attempt! Moving forward, I’ll be sharing chunks of days at a time instead of daily entries. I’m hoping that the format will allow a bit more of a narrative vibe from day to day rather than disconnected vignettes. Also, our entries will then have more of an alternating fashion instead of a wave of ten posts once every week and a half.
Either way, I’m finding that I enjoy writing for a number of reasons:
- Writing is a powerful tool for reflection.
- Sharing my experiences with people that I love brings me (and hopefully, brings them) joy.
- Most people don’t understand what the hiking entails. Publicly sharing lets me shed some light on my daily experiences.
- Writing and communication are important skills, and this allows me to learn and experiment in different ways.
- It gives me a reason to slow down, rest, and enjoy cozy places like this in Falls River, CT:
- So here are my entries from the past week!
Massachusetts! (Monday, September 3)
I made it home! Well, kind of. I crossed the border into MA early this morning:
After trudging along through some humidity and rising temperatures, the trail took a steep dip into North Adams. After a mile of walking through small side streets and past cozy homes, I started the ascent of the highest peak in Massachusetts – Mount Greylock. It got hotter and hotter, until the weather app read 87 degrees and feels like 95. I’ve never sweated so much in my life. I stopped at a beautiful overlook and then plodded on toward the summit, putting off lunch because I couldn’t stand the thought of hiking uphill in the heat with a full stomach. I was pleasantly surprised to find a lodge at the summit that had a full kitchen. I ordered a burger, but it was still tough to eat given my stomach issues.
The views were beautiful, and I’m glad it was a clear day. The heat was killer, and with it still hot now at 8 pm, something tells me I’ll be sleeping without my sleeping bag tonight.
Found Some Sobos! (Tuesday, September 4)
I woke up to another scorcher today. 85 degrees with a lot of humidity. The rocks are slippery with perspiration.
The trail descended into Cheshire, a beautiful town that I got to walk through for a few miles. There was also a Dollar General and a Dunkin Donuts! The trail then went back into the woods only to come out 8 miles later in another town, Dalton. Apparently, all US dollars are printed on paper that is manufactured in this one town. I stopped in at a sub shop and got a massive cheese steak sandwich, which, to my surprise, I was slowly able to eat without getting nauseous.
But the best part of today is that I ran into 4 others people heading south and had a crew to eat dinner with tonight. Two of them are retired from the Navy, but are still apparently nationally ranked pistol marksmen. It was interesting hearing all about their hobby.
It’s nice having some familiar faces around. I think we’re all heading to the same place tomorrow, too. Supposed to still be pretty hot, but the terrain will be flat.
Ahhhh the Heat! (Wednesday, September 5)
Fourth straight day of heat, humidity, and now an insane amount of aggressive mosquitos. But I went the whole day without getting nauseous, so I think the antibiotics that I am taking are helping with whatever was wrong with my stomach. Gotta find the silver linings.
I also crossed over the Mass Pike, staring East and knowing that a two hour ride would take me straight home (you know Lee Mo made the offer).
A man named Arch gave me a soda there, and it tasted heavenly. He also gave me his number and told me to call when I get to Great Barrington, a really kind offer.
I strolled into Upper Goose Pond Cabin this evening and promptly jumped into the pond. It’s more of a lake, and it’s absolutely beautiful. There is also a caretaker who cooks pancakes in the morning! Looking forward to this. He gave me some leftover salad as well, and I’ve learned never to turn down fruit and vegetables on the trail.
I then cooked some dinner (Mac and cheese), sat on the end of a bench, and promptly flipped backwards as the bench, not nailed down, lifted off the two logs it was propped on. I dumped my entire dinner in the dirt between my legs. The caretaker, feeling bad because he had “already seen two people fall off that bench this week,” gave me some couscous and went to find some nails.
I’ve realized that if I get injured and have to come off the trail, it will likely happen in camp. Just two nights ago I stubbed my toe on a rock while wearing sandals and took out a good chunk of skin to the point of bleeding everywhere. I met a guy in New Hampshire who broke his toe in Hanover. Imagine making it through the jagged boulders ascents of the Whites and then breaking your toe in town.
Another end-of-day danger? Acornsn. As I write this in my tent, I can hear them dropping 100 feet from the trees above, and I am convinced that one is going to go pierce my tent and whack me in the forehead while I sleep. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night to the THWAP of them slapping ground.
Rain coming tomorrow to break the heat. I welcome it at this point! For now, I’ll just sweat in my tent. 😅
Waiting Out the Storm (Thursday, September 6)
Lightening and thunder at the same time is truly terrifying. The crack is deafeningly loud, and you can feel the electricity in the air as yours hairs stand on end. After deciding not to venture up to an area called “The Ledges” (aka “Lightening Death Trap for Overconfident Thru-Hikers), I hunkered down in a shelter until it passed and then kept hiking, soaked through and through. I ended the day by staying in a shelter with the most bold mice I’ve ever seen.
Oh yeah – there was a trail stand earlier in the day. It had a fridge with soda and other goodies where you could leave money and take what you needed. Apparently, it’s run by kids of the family that lives in the house in the background Check it out:
28 Miles, My Fifth State, and an Unexpected Photo Shoot (Friday, September 7)
Trade offs. As with all of life, the trail is full of them. Daily, one has to weigh the minute pros and cons of decisions that never occur in “real” life. Of course, life on the trail is a self-imposed reality, and the ability to do this trip is a privilege that many can’t afford, so don’t take this as a complaint, but here are a few decisions I have agonized over recently:
- Sleep in a shelter infested with mice or set up your tent in the dark while it rains?
- Sleep in the bunk room of a cabin on a soft mattress with a guy who says he snores ten feet away, or sleep on your not-so-comfortable sleeping pad in your tent?
- Cut your day way too short to sleep at said cabin/campground, or push on knowing that you’ll have to pitch a tent at a random spot on the trail that won’t have a bear box, necessitating that you sleep with your food as a pillow in the middle of bear country because your rope and bear bag got stuck in a tree the night before?
- Eat delicious pop tarts for breakfast and sugar crash in two hours, or stomach down your eightieth packet of instant oatmeal this month?
- Carry 4-5 pounds of water throughout the day and never be thirsty, or have a much lighter pack but risk miscalculating and hike up a mountain in the heat without water for a few hours?
Today, I had another decision to make. I was 7 miles from Great Barrington when I woke up this morning. I hadn’t resupplied or stayed in town through all of Massachusetts. This meant that my phone and external charger were dead – read: no map to help me navigate, no podcasts or audiobooks to keep me occupied, and no way to communicate with anyone when I get to the next town. Also, my clothes were disgusting from a week of me sweating in the humidity, and I hadn’t bathed in days. Lastly, I had less than a day of food, and it was all the food that I least wanted to eat.
Options:
- Hike 7 miles to stay in Great Barrington. If I do finish the Appalachian Trail, every short day like this pushes my finish in Georgia further into the winter. In addition, the stay would cost $70 for a hotel room.
- Hike 10-20 miles, passing Great Barrington, and then hike 10-15 miles into Salisbury, CT tomorrow where I can stay with a woman for $40 and resupply in town. This means eating partially moldy pita bread and half a bag of instant potatoes for dinner, and skipping breakfast in the AM.
- Hike 28 miles to Salisbury TODAY. Do my longest day on the trail yet at a semi-grueling pace, taking practically no breaks, but enjoy the most epic shower and pizza dinner tonight when I get to town. Sleep in a bed TONIGHT.
Can you tell by my use of caps lock which option I chose? With a featherweight pack containing almost no food, I set off on a marathon of a day – a bit more than a marathon, actually. Most people hike 2 miles per hour on flat ground, 1 mile per hour with steep uphill or downhill. I needed to hike 2.5 mph for 11 hours; regardless of incline or terrain, if I was going to get to town before dark.
The first ten miles were dead flat – piece of cake. Then, I hit the mountains. These hurt a bit, but I felt good. I blew by some beautiful views – normally I would think this a shame, but the day’s challenge had injected some variety into my hiking routine that was worth the underappreciated vistas.
And then, something amazing happened. I passed a couple on one of the peaks. They were sitting intimately close together, face-to-face, holding hands. I gave a quick ”hello” as I walked past, not wanting to intrude on the moment. As I left, I heard her ask, “Is this an heirloom?” Instantly, I understood. “Did you two just get engaged?” She replied with an ecstatic “yes.” I cheered. They cheered with me. I offered to take their photo, and they were delighted. I proposed in Amsterdam a year ago with a professional photographer capturing the big moment, and knowing how much Rocío and I cherish those images, I went into full-on photoshoot mode: “Mountains in the background, stand lower, stand higher, hand on his chest, show that ring, kiss!” I am 90% sure that I didn’t come across as creepy. Their names were Steph and Zach, and they wanted to take a selfie afterward. I think this is one of my favorite pics on the trail:
I congratulated them again and marched on. With no map, I wasn’t really sure where I was, but I knew Bear Mountain was ahead. Getting tired, I ascended briefly and came to another vista. Thinking happily, “wow – Bear Mountain was easy,” I continued along starting to feel the fatigue in my muscles.
A few miles later, I crossed into Connecticut! I have no picture since my phone was dead, but I was excited to enter my fifth state! Crazy!
And then, at about Mile 20, I hit the wall. Not “the wall” that marathoners talk about when our body depletes its carbohydrate stores about 20 miles into the race, but rather a literal wall of rocks. I climbed, desperately out of breath, as it kept going up and up and up. After a while, I realized: this is another mountain. 20 miles into my longest day yet, I was climbing an unexpected, brutally steep mountain, and it would be getting dark in a few hours. I almost threw up as I finally made it to the peak and saw a sign: “This marks the highest peak in Connecticut at 2,323 feet.” Apparently, THIS was Bear Mountain.
The last 8 miles were mercifully flat and downhill with soft pine needles littering the trail. I got to the highway, hitched a ride, found a place to charge my phone, contacted my host, and walked to her house. I took a a shower (made the top 3 ranking for showers on trail thus far, behind only my shower after the 100 Mile Wilderness and my bath with beer at Auntie Lianne’s House) and ordered a pizza with chicken fingers and fries from a place nearby. Then, I slept 9 hours on what seemed like the softest mattress I’ve ever felt. Pure. Bliss.
Wild Heart (Saturday, September 8)
In Salisbury, I finally have time to catch up on my journal. After updating several weeks of entries, I’ve been reflecting on what I have learned out here.
There is an interesting balance of self and others while thru hiking. You cater to your own specific needs and desires while trying not to miss small moments of connection when the opportunities arise. When I walked past the couple on top of the mountain yesterday, I was so tempted to keep walking toward the pizza and bed that I knew were waiting in town just a few miles away. But if I had, I would have missed the opportunity to celebrate what was, for two complete strangers, a profound moment of joy.
I recently listened to an audiobook by Brené Brown, which is fittingly named “Braving the Wilderness: The Quest for True Belonging and the Courage to Stand Alone.” She borrows the phrase “strong back, soft front, wild heart” as a moniker for living bravely. She talks about openness, honesty, and having difficult conversations – what she calls having a “strong back.” She also refers to our ability to be vulnerable with people and not being afraid to sit with others in their pain – having a “soft front.” But there is also a substantial portion about joy and gratitude, and that living with what Brown calls a “wild heart” involves openly embracing and fully living in moments of joy with not just those close to us but also with complete strangers.
I’ve spent a career trying to ask myself and others the tough questions that Brown talks about in her book. Emotional discomfort, vulnerability, sacrifice – these are the crux of any social justice work. As is having a soft front – truly being with others in moments of difficulty. But these ways of being can’t be everything. They have to be accompanied by joy and gratitude every step of the way. Rocío and I aren’t 100% sure what will come after this year, but I’m realizing that this trip, right now, is about finding joy and expressing gratitude in new ways. This trail, with all of its ups and downs, is about having a wild heart.
Trails And Travels 