Wednesday notes: Heading to the ATC, "A Walk in the Woods" etc.

I'm a member at the Appalachian Trail Conservancy, so I'm off to Harper's Ferry this morning to get the maps for Georgia through southwest Virginia at a discount. I'm also going to ask the assistant on duty what weather I can expect in Georgia.

I've got my Irish drinking songs playlist ready on my iPod - The Pogues, Flogging Molly, The Clancy Brothers, The Young Dubliners and Dropkick Murphys- for March 17. It's something to look forward to. And fyi, Irish/Scottish stuff makes for great music to hike by.

Right now my hiking gear is a messy pile in my bedroom. I've settled on hiking in my old, hopelessly soiled Cap 1 baselayer rather than buy new, because the local outfitter didn't have my size during their huge sale last week. I also dug up a forgotten, barely worn pair of soccer shorts while emptying my dresser which I'll adopt as my primary hiking shorts. As far as other stuff I still need, I got an 18L bear bag, Sea to Summit, with 50ft of nylon cord at Cabela's Monday. All bright orange.

I've also started a lively forum discussion about ranking the extant AT memoirs over at Whiteblaze. Check it out if you're really into reading about the trail and you're exasperated when you browse Barnes and Noble for new stuff and find only the trusty old "A Walk in the Woods."

Which I recently read the first few bits of again. I skipped all the stuff about trail history, geology and the US Forest Service [Bill Bryson hates the USSF] and read just the trail narrative.

Here's a key passage set in Gatlinburg, Tenn. after Bryson and his buddy, Katz, come out of a blizzard in the Smokies:

Katz needed bootlaces, so we went to an outfitter's, and while he was off in the footwear section had an idle shuffle around. Pinned to a wall was a map showing the whole of the Appalachian Trail on its long march through fourteen states, but with the eastern seaboard rotated to give the AT the appearance of having a due north-south orientation, allowing the mapmaker to fit the trail into an orderly rectangle, about six inches wide and four feet high. I looked at it with a polite, almost proprietorial interest - it was the first time since leaving New Hampshire that I considered the trail in its entirety - and then inclined closer, with bigger eyes and slightly parted lips. Of the four feet of trail map before me, reaching approximately from my knees to the top of my head, we had done the bottom two inches.
I went and got Katz...One thing was obvious. We were never going to walk to Maine."

The first time I read that I was like, 'Shit. Really?' and felt deprived of an adventure, since I was reading it with an eye towards hiking WV->ME. Gatlinburg is just about 200 miles into the 2,179-mile hike, mind you. What "A Walk" lacks in that aspect, Bryson more than makes up for it in the breadth of his research and in his laugh-out-loud style.

But it's not the only book on the AT out there. I'll try to post a top five list here once the Whiteblaze discussion wraps up.

Anyway, have a happy Wednesday! Signing off.

Gear data v1.0

[Those bored to death by geartalk, skip this post!]

Taking a cue from McBride's post on Whiteblaze, I thought I would write up the list of gear I took along on my WV->ME '09 hike and juxtapose it with things I'm carrying on my GA->WV '10 hike.

Which starts in three weeks, by the way.

So here goes:

Pack

• Gregory Baltoro 70. Comfortable, user friendly pack. BUT: It leaned to the side on my back, had too much room, and then the mainstay broke away from the pack in New Hampshire. I finished the trail [Gorham, NH to Katahdin] with a loaner Gregory Palisade 80. After the hike I returned the Baltoro to REI and swapped it for the pack that I'll be using this spring, the Osprey Atmos 65. The Atmos 65 seemed to be the pack of choice among thru-hikers.
  
• No pack cover, used my shell jacket as a cover after I realized my pack was water permeable and then bought a L Osprey pack cover in Port Clinton. Not having a pack cover is not an option.

Shelter

• Wal-Mart tarp. I didn't feel comfortable sleeping in it during a buggy buggy summer [or in rain], so I hiker-boxed it in Port Clinton and bought a proper tent, the Big Agnes Seedhouse SL2, along with the footprint. Big Agnes vied with MSR as the tent brand of choice on the trail, and I saw many Seedhouses. The outfitter in Port Clinton arranged for the tent to be waiting for me in Delaware Water Gap. The tent arrived just in time: Before the mosquito alley that is New Jersey through Massachusetts. The tent is bulky and still a bit heavy [around 3 pounds] but the independence of being able to sleep wherever you can clear a 5'x10' space and escape snorers, bugs etc. makes having the tent more than worth it.

Sleeping

• Kelty Light Year +20, three-season down bag with 650 fill goose down., 2 lbs. 6 ounces. Waay too hot in the summer - I used it as a mattress during June/July - but comfortable enough later in the trip. The down is spread a bit thin in places.
• Sleeping bag liner. I picked up a Sea to Summit silk sleeping bag liner at Cabela's in Hamburg and it was a lifesaver in coping with the summer heat. I would sleep in this on top of my sleeping bag on top of my sleeping pad.
• Thermarest Ridge Rest sleeping pad, size R-Men's. I found this comfortable enough from the get-go. It's very light, indestructible and fits well in the loops at the bottom of any pack.

Kitchen

• Set of aluminum camp pans from unknown brand [gift]. Having more than one pan proved redundant since, in the woods, people eat out of whatever pots they cook with; sent all but one home. The remaining one's handle broke down in Vermont. I replaced it with a GSI Pinnacle Soloist pot in Manchester Center, VT. The new pot made me feel much better, more professional maybe, about cooking in the woods.
• Plastic camp cup. Got rid of it when I switched to the GSI pot, which came with its own cup/bowl that included a layer of insulation.
• Spork. Broke on some peanut butter in Maine. Replaced it with a metal spoon that Pine Ellis gave to me. I'll be getting a new Spork.
• Stove. I used the Primus Classic Trail Stove the whole trip. It's not the fastest-cooking stove out there but it was stable and failproof. Eight ounces and pocket-sized.
• Fuel. By the end of the trail I was using big 8 ounce canisters of butane+propane and replacing them before they ran completely out. The 4 ounce canisters, because the canisters serve as the base for the stove and pot, make the setup too unstable, and they run out too abruptly.
• I packed a bandana or a tiny pack towel to wipe the pot after each use. I used a slip of newspaper to line the bottom of the teflon pot for when I packed the canister in there with the bowl.
• Lighter. I replaced this once I think.
  

Tech

• Garmin eTrex Legend HCx handheld GPS device. I found myself spending too much time stopping on the trail to study the map on this. Although it helped in gauging the distance/time/ETA to the next destination point, it proved redundant because of the Thru-Hiker Companion's level of detail. After a while, I learned to gauge my time and distance quite accurately just from timing myself over and over again. I also frankly felt uncomfortable with an expensive gadget in my pack. I sent it home in Pennsylvania or earlier.
• Wristwatch. I started with one from Target, not sure which brand. A spring shot out of the band somewhere around Massachusetts and after that the watch dangled awkwardly. But having a watch that told me what day and date it was, had an alarm and an indiglo night light was crucial. I picked up a slightly better watch, a Timex Expedition, from Target for this spring.
• Phone. Started with a three-year-old Samsung basic phone+camera. It got rain-damaged in Vermont and never worked again. Lost contacts, pictures, etc. Ashley sent her old phone, which happened to be the exact same model, to me in New Hampshire. Unfortunately the battery was much weaker and I generally had to hike with the phone off and keep calls quite short. This past weekend I bought an HTC Eris Droid smartphone, with 3G, GPS, Wi-Fi, 8GB of memory for music etc., and I just ordered a battery that more than doubles its battery life to go with it. I'm stoked about hiking with this thing. Verizon seems to be the way to go with service on the trail.
• Tunes. I started with none and regretted it all the time. I bought a Sony Walkman radio with a belt clip in Bennington Vermont. Having it was very good, although I listened to more than a fair amount of Glenn Beck, country music, Taylor Swift and ESPN football talk because that's all there was in some spots. Also, I ran through several sets of earbuds because they kept falling out. I'll be using some Sony active style earbuds with loop hangers this time. I'll also have music on my phone, and I'm debating whether to also bring my 8GB iPod Nano.
• Camera. I started with the Canon Powershot digital Elph, 7.1 Megapixels. It held the 2,000 or so shots I took on the trip. After rain damage in Vermont, however, it never regained its ability to take auto-focus pictures, flash or show a display on its viewing screen - it was all manual, no flash photography. This spring I'm taking my new camera [Christmas gift], a Canon Powershot SD1200 IS Digitatl Elph 10 Megapixels. It has an 8 GB memory card that holds 4,000 photos or 1 hour of video. So that's a big upgrade. I'll be protecting it with plastic bags better this time.
• Chargers. I pulled my camera and phone chargers out of my bounce box in Boiling Springs and kept them with me the rest of the trip. Having chargers on hand is a MUST.
• USB. Ditto camera charger.
• Flashlight. I started with a $1 Wal-Mart flashlight, thinking I could skimp on light, but found out quickly why thru-hikers buy headlamps - night hiking and using both hands while cooking or reading at night. I bought a Black Diamond Gizmo in Boiling Springs, Pa. and used it daily after that.
• Batteries. I'll be keeping probably 5 or 6 spare AAA or AA batteries as backups for my radio and headlamp.
  

Clothing

• Pants. I started with two pairs, REI Sahara convertibles and NorthFace convertibles. I immediately sent home the REI pants and subsequently returned them for cash. The NorthFace pants I used as camp/town pants and only hiked in them during storms because, due to a lack of roominess in the seat, they caused chafing more often than not. I have given them away and now I'm looking for a new pair of pants for the trip. I'm looking more for weather resistance than convertibility this time.
• Shirts. Started with three synthetic shirts: North Face T, T from Sports Authority and a long-sleeved New Balance shirt. Immediately sent home the New Balance shirt and alternated between the other two before soon sending home the North Face shirt. My parents mailed me a long-sleeve wicking baselayer from Rocky which I alternated with the other shirt until I lost the Rocky. Bought a Patagonia Capilene 1 longsleeve baselayer in Manchester Center and used only that from then on. I'm looking for a new Cap 1 longsleeve baselayer now.
• Midlayer. I used a Patagonia fleece [discontinued model, got it on discount] the whole trip and will use it again. It was my second skin at camp and in town and very often my pillow.
• Midlalyer 2. I had my Capilene 3 top and tights sent to me in Maine. They make for very warm sleeping and were good around cold shelters. I'll be starting with them in March.
• Shell. Marmot Mica jacket. I didn't need it very often, but when I did it was a lifesaver [see Baldpate, Tropical Storm Danny]. Seven ounces of pure wind and waterproof armor.
• Shorts. I started with one pair of Kappa soccer shorts, thinking I'd be in my pants more often. I soon started wearing the shorts daily. Almost all thru-hikers use soccer shorts; some use kilts/skirts. The Kappa shorts wore completely out and I got a new pair of Adidas shorts by mail as a gift, which I finished the trail in but which are now worn out. I'm now looking for a new pair of soccer shorts for the trail.
• Socks. I started with four pairs of wool hiking socks and immediately sent home one pair. I generally hiked with three pairs, but dropped down to two pairs by New Hampshire. I went through three pairs, I think. My favorite socks were my Smartwools and my REI hiking socks. The huge, puffy Rocky socks felt good at the end of the trail. This time I'll go with three: One puffy pair, one Smartwool and one low-cut REI pair.
• Sockliners. I started with two pairs and used them daily with little exception for the entire trip, with nary a blister after Maryland. I'll be taking two pairs with me this spring.
• Underwear. I started with three pairs and sent one home. I used two pairs of Under Armour Heatgear synthetic boxers and they were perfect. For much of the trail I also packed a pair of cotton boxers for something to wear in towns and hostels while my laundry was on. I'm probably going to go with the 2X synthetic 1X cotton this spring.
• Winter gear. I got a cheap Carhardt boggon in Maine and wore it sometimes in the 100 Mile Wilderness. I'm debating whether to take it and gloves to Georgia, or whether I should get a light fleece boggon from Mountain Hardware or REI.
  

Footwear

• I started with a 2-and-a-half-year-old pair of Vasque Breeze boots, size 8.5. These proved too small. The Gore-Tex was good in walking through puddles, though, and they had good traction. I replaced them with Solomon XT Hawk trailrunners, size 9.5, in Manchester Center, Vermont. I'll be starting with the Solomons in Georgia while keeping a pair of New Balance running shoes at the ready should the Solomons wear out.
• Camp shoes. I started with none and immediately regretted it. I pulled my sandals out of my bounce box and kept them with me for the rest of the trip. My sandals were also my footwear of choice in towns and at hostels. They're completely worn out, however, so I'll have to replace them before Georgia.
• Gaiters. I bought a pair of Outdoor Research ankle gaiters when I bought my trailrunners. I used them daily until the 100-Mile Wilderness, where the trail was dry and not-so rocky. They were a bit frustrating because the strap kept loosening and making the gaiters hitch up past the top of the shoe. Definitely bringing them with me.

Trekking poles

• Leki Makulu Summit. These suspension poles made a lot of clanging noise. They also took a great deal of abuse and stopped sliding midway through the trail. After a 30-minute repair session at the Frederick outfitter, the Trail House, these poles will be making the trip to Georgia.
  

Bear bag

• I used an 8L Sea to Summit bag as my main food bag. It was too small. I'm going to get a 15-20L bag this time. Truth be told, I very rarely hung a bear bag on the northern half of the trail. The bears are more unafraid down south, though.
• Cord. I used some nylon cord from Wal-Mart. I cut it up to use it as a laundry line and bear bag at the same time in Massachusetts. I'm going to get a new 60ft line.

Water

• MSR Hyperflow Microfilter. The best filter ever. Until Massachusetts. After that, it was the worst gear purchase I made. It never again worked as advertised and the company seemed unable to fix the problem. Hiker forums and product review comments are filled with complaints on this Backpacker 2009 gear of the year award-winning product. After returning from the trail I took it back to REI and got cash back.
• Aquamira. Holmes gave me an Aqua Mira set in Maine and I really liked it. I'll be using just Aquamira to start off with in Georgia. The difference between it and a filter is that you have to wait 30 mins while Aquamira treats the water before drinking it.
• Bucket. This is a priority purchase for me before starting the trail in Georgia after spending too much time making multiple trips to the water source at camps. Having a foldable, synthetic bucket means that, when you get to camp, you go to the water source only once, quickly fill it and hang it somewhere. You have water for cooking, cleaning, teethbrushing and drinking until the next day. I'm getting a 10L Sea to Summit bucket.
• Bottles. I started with two Nalgenes, 2L each, that I had dangling from caribiners from my pack. They either broke or were too heavy. I'm taking two used Powerade bottles [20 ounces each] this time.
• Bladder. I started with none and got exasperated with having to de-pack everytime I needed a drink on the trail. I bought a Deuter 2L bladder in Port Clinton and used it daily for the rest of the trip. It was a bit difficult to refill while on the trail, since I had to take a bunch of stuff out of my pack to get to it. I resolved that issue by also carrying empty Gatorade bottles and just filling those after my bladder water ran out.

Pages

• Books. I carried the 2009 ALDHA Thru-Hiker's Companion, ripping out whichever pages I didn't need. I also ripped up a novel with the intention of having subsequent chapters mailed or bounced ahead to me but never read beyond the chapters I started with. Along the way I picked up some paperbacks at hostels; some were better than others [I read Jack London's "The Sea Wolf" but not the half of an airplane novel I split with Col. Mustard after Glencliff, NH]. This time I'll be starting the trail with two thin paperbacks: Hemingway short stories and T.S. Eliot. I'm debating whether to rip up my 2010 ALDHA Thru-Hiker's Companion or not. Probably not.
• Magazines. I started having New Yorker issues sent to me. I fondly remember becoming entirely engrossed in Ian Frazier's travelogue, Travels in Siberia, and not leaving a shelter until after noon. No plans for magazines this time.
• Games. I carried some Sudoku puzzles after Connecticut, which I ripped out of a book I bought. I lacked the attention span to finish many puzzles. Maybe not even one. I won't be starting with any games.
• Journals. I started with and completed a composition notebook, sent it home, and picked up a thicker, book-like journal. I'll be starting with this journal because there's still room left as well as two really thin Moleskin journals to follow.
• Maps. Started with none. Used some hiker box maps in Vermont, I think it was, and loved them. In Maine I picked up the complete map set and really enjoyed having the day's elevation profile at a glance, as well as seeing the locations of water sources relative to shelters, etc. I'll be using maps at least through the Smokies, but I haven't got them yet.

Toiletries

• Toothbrush. I didn't saw the handle off as the ultralight hikers do. I'm packing a little plastic cap to enclose the bristles.
• Floss. A little waxed floss dispenser is crucial.
• TP. A full roll at a time, without the cardboard roll in the center, packed in plastic in easy reach suffices. It's best to err on the side of having too much - it's no fun asking other people for spare or resorting to leaves.
• Hand sanitizer. A small, 2-ounce bottle makes for healthy living.
• Razor. Originally, I had my Gillette Mach 3 Turbo razor in a bounce box, but I soon kept the razor with me for trimming purposes. It's great to have a beard but uncouth to let it roam your face as it will.
• Emory board, clippers. I pulled these out of the bounce box, too, because it's good to be able to groom spontaneously.
• Dr. Bronner's. This stuff was awesome when it was possible to take stream baths in the summer. When that ended, the utility of Dr. Bronner's did, too. So hiker box.
• Anti-chafing. I cycled through zinc powder, zinc ointment, Gold Bond, Easy Glide and Vaseline [I couldn't settle on one solution and sent stuff home]. I'll probably go with just Vaseline this time, in tube form.
• Sunscreen. Unnecessary. Abandoned on Day 2.
  

Miscellaneous

• Wallet. Kept in my pack.
• Knife. Simple Buck pocket knife. Used sparingly, typically to cut cheese or pepperoni.
  

I'll be back later with a weights estimate and a simplified gear list for Springer, without all the explanations, and maybe something to break up the text on this post. In the meantime, I'm going to be visiting a university that I've applied to. And then the same thing tomorrow. Busy times!

Aug. 25 and 26: Zero day and reentry to the trail

- Aug. 25: Gorham to Gorham, 0 trail miles

I zeroed in Gorham but foolishly did not go to the Super Wal-Mart to resupply, which I would regret later.

On the good side, my loaner pack arrived in the afternoon. I mailed my broken-down pack [it broke near Lincoln, NH, which I note here] to California with a deliberately-worded letter of complaint tucked inside. Gregory, the company that made it, has told me they will repair the pack damage. I doubt it. The mainstay came completely undone from the bottom of the pack.

The weather alternated between brilliant sunshine and quick downpours all day long.

- Aug. 26: Gorham to Imp Shelter, 13.1 trail miles

I hitched a ride back to the Pinkham Notch visitors center to resume my hike. The center had already stopped serving breakfast so I had an early morning burger. My new earbuds, cheapies from Rite Aid, fell out of my ears repeatedly as I began walking. The third time they got wrapped around one of my trekking poles, and in a fit, I threw the pole down the trail. The earbuds were no more.

The hike took me 1,940 feet straight up Wildcat Mountain immediately. At the top I wrung my shirt out and got some sun while talking to an older hiker who was in the process of making up the miles he'd skipped on a 2002 thru hike.

I checked in at the last of the AMC mountain huts, Carter Notch hut, to drink a bunch of water, read the register and eat some snacks. On my way out I passed Brave Little Toaster and his dog, Pork, and Frank N. Stein.

The trail went up a grueling 1,480 feet and settled into a ridge walk with clear views of the Whites on all sides; the sun fell directly behind Mt. Washington. I was very tempted to stealth camp on Mt. Hight. But I was behind most people I knew, so I hiked.

I was hiking in the dark with my headlamp when Frank N. Stein caught up. The 1,000 feet slab ride down from North Carter Mountain had been fearsome - wet slabs, vertical drops, swinging from young pines and tree roots in the dark - I could only imagine how difficult it must be for Toaster and the dog.

At Imp, the shelter was the only place we could stay; the tent platforms were full. The shelter was crowded and dark. It was 9:15 p.m. I cooked up a double Ramen dinner outside the shelter. I crashed hard.

Aug. 16: Summer hits with a fierceness

It's freaking hot today. I'm in Lincoln, NH staying at "Chet's Place," aka the One Step At a Time hostel. I'm a big fan of Chet West. Today I did my first work-for-stay for real: I bleached down the shower and reorganized the shelves of hiker stuff in the hikers room.

I'm waiting for my mail drops at the PO tomorrow. In the meantime, I replaced the tips on my Leki trekking poles. They were worn down to nubs - the guy at the local outfitter, where, incidentally, Chet used to work, and I teamed up to knock the old tips off with a wrench and brute force.

I'm also supergluing my pack. No, that isn't good. I'm going to contact Gregory tomorrow to see how I can get it replaced and when and where.

The mountains have been beautiful and difficult.

On Thursday, I summitted Moosilauke with Col. Mustard, strolling through the scraggly, mossy pines that formed low hedgerows on either side of a narrow trail. A heavy fog rolled over our luncheon. Little black flies or gnats swarmed rocks, the orange Moosilauke sign and invaded my can of peanut butter.

I've found my mileage dropping and my calorie intake upping.

Gotta go, internet cafe is closing,

-JH

Aug. 7: Greetings from the land of plenty

It's a gorgeous day here in Hanover, New Hampshire. It's sunny and in the 70s. The forecast is for more of the same until Wednesday. That's a good start to a state that has the White Mountains - the biggest on the trail since the Smoky Mountains, in "Appalatcha" - waiting for northbound hikers. That means the leafy tunnel portion of the AT is about to come to an end. Soon, I'll be hiking above treeline, tasting clouds and bundling up against the wind, and possibly, snow.

Hanover is home to Dartmouth College, an Ivy League school founded in 1769 that costs about $39K per year in undergrad tuition. It counts Timothy Geithner, Dr. Seuss and the late Bud Shulberg ["On The Waterfront" writer] among its alumni.

The downtown here looks to have no buildings older than 10 years old, however. It's very small. There's a Gap and a Talbots; it looks like a less-urban Georgetown, basically.

I'm sitting now in the lobby of Dartmouth's Robinson Hall. It's where the Dartmouth Outing Club is located. The club maintains about 70 miles of the Appalachian Trail in eastern Vermont and western New Hampshire. A room in the lower level is open to thru hikers. The downside is that there's no laundry or shower.

I'm happy to say that my water filter issue has been resolved.

I wrote more than two weeks ago about my expensive filter shutting down. Since then I've heard complaints about the system from other hikers using it. I backflushed it according to a tutorial on the company's Web site and consulted an outfitter or two along the way, but I wasn't able to get it working like it was supposed to again.

The company Web site had a notice posted today:

We have recently identified a flow performance issue with some of the hollow fiber filter cartridges contained in MSR HyperFlow microfilters currently on the market. The performance issue DOES NOT effect the product’s ability to filter safe drinking water but can be frustrating as the flow rate of the filter may not perform to product specifications. The issue has been rectified and all filter cartridges currently in production for the MSR HyperFlow microfilter perform to flow specifications.

The Mountain Goat outfitter here in town took my old, malfunctioning filter and handed me a brand new system, with a filter cartridge that works, over the counter today. Nice!

My camera is a different story. It relapsed into rain damage disease and no longer lets me take new pictures. Unless I engineer it back to health, you won't be seeing any New Hampshire with your own eyes. It is what it is.

I don't know whether I'm hiking out tonight or not. Last night I camped out at the edge of town, about .3 miles away from this spot. I had a pizza dinner with another northbounder who is named Strider because he's like six five and has a stride probably double that of your average hiker. He's on the 4-month completion track, which means he's one of those people you see once or twice and that's it. He estimates he eats about 5,000 calories a day, and then described what he typically eats. As I was almost through my 10th slice of pizza, I almost hurled when he said he starts every day with a half pound of granola and ends it with 2L of noodles mixed with a bit of mashed potatoes, with an outrageous collection of pantry food between.

There's a shelter less than a mile from the soccer fields. I'll play it by ear.

Day 40/July 19: Sometimes, the trail eats you

My Sunday of July 19 started nice and slow. I had the cherriest camp spot at which to wake up. Since I was only planning to hike 13 miles, I made oatmeal and dried out my clothes in the sun.

While hiking, my water bladder ran dry, as it does every day I hike, so I got out my filter at a stream and went to work. This time, there was a problem. My filter essentially quit, which it's not supposed to do until well after I finish the northern portion of the entire trail.

A little instruction sheet in the filter's carrying case gives instructions for cleaning the filter canister: Just flip two valves and let it flow in reverse. I worked on it for 30 minutes, gave up and hiked on, then worked on it for 30 minutes more.

No dice. Instead of jetting out of the filter at 3 liters per minute, full of bubbles, the water trickled out and kept the stream's color.
Instantly, I was transformed from a hiker with a range as long as my food lasts to a hiker with the range of a day hiker. It was crushing.

I reached Tyringham, Massachusetts in the late afternoon, where I needed to be on Monday to pick up a package. I had ordered myself a Sony Walkman radio in Salisbury to be sent there.

The town had the PO, a B & B and nothing else - not even a gas station, and I was low on food. Thankfully, I met a hiker named Hitch - from Chicago, doing Damascus, Va. to Maine - who was staying at the B & B and who had already arranged for the owner of the B & B to drive him to the bigger town of Lee nearby.

So we had dinner at Arizona Pizza, and then I resupplied for the short run at Price Chopper. We waited for our cab at a sports bar that had a golf channel on and served a beer with the masculine-sounding name of Steel Rail.

Back in Tyringham, sometime after 9 p.m., I set up my tent literally behind the post office. I woke up sometime very early, and couldn't get back to sleep, so I packed everything up at 6 a.m. and waited the three hours until the post office opened. It was at about 8 a.m. that a crew from Town Hall took a backhoe to the area where my tent had been earlier, so I'm glad I didn't wake up to that hassle.














And I found out my radio wasn't even there when post office opened.

At that point, I was like, "I'm getting to Dalton [the next trail town] even if it kills me." To address my water situache, I packed 208 ounces, or 13 pounds [!!!], of water and headed back to the hills, hoping for some good luck...

Fast forward, days 14-16

While some people hiked out of Port Clinton, including Leon and his dog, Halifax, and Col. Mustard, a bunch of people stayed for a 0.



[Halifax, Leon and Col. Mustard leaving Port Clinton, Pa. June 23.]

I split a room at the Hamburg Microtel with Mr. Buffalo Man and Goof after the three of us and Hulk resupplied at a grocery store.

After a shower, I walked across a busy highway to get to Cabela's, a 250,000-square foot outdoors store, because I had a list of must-get equipment. There was supposed to be a free shuttle service, but the man on the other end of the phone at Cabela's said something mysterious about the van being out on a guns purchasing run.

When I got there, though, parked at the entrance was a big green van with "Cabela's" written on the side. Hmm...

The store is Ikea-big, but with 10,000 guns and fishing poles instead of lamps and frying pans. The store had stuffed animals arranged in tableaus of predators vs. prey, a wolf pack vs. a herd of water buffalo, for example, in addition to a bustling restaurant and a "shooting gallery." The guns section alone was about the size of the entire REI Rockville outfitter. In short, it was redneck paradise.

The camping section, however, had things like food dehydraters and 8-person tents, things useless to backpackers. I did buy a silk sleeping bag liner and an 8 L bear bag.

At the door I asked the greeter - probably the same guy I talked to earlier - for the shuttle and got the runaround. He pointed to a phone and suggested I call "the management," and a few minutes later the guy was driving me back to my hotel.

The hotel was deserted. All the other hikers there had meanwhile gone to get food and then on to Cabela's [no shuttle], so I got some food, settled in for a South Park marathon and savored the A/C. Later I had a couple PBRs with Mr. Buffalo Man at the bar.

It was good to have a chill day after a punishing hike. It was good to do laundry, get a shave [I'm working on a mustache] and catch some news [SC Gov. Sanford is on the AT? Wait, he's not? Argentina, huh?] For $25 per person, a hotel night was def worthwhile.

The next day I spent a ton of time at Ye Olde Backpacker in Port Clinton. I got a Deuter hydration bladder for my backpack, so I no longer have to stop cold every time I want water, and I ordered a badass tent to be sent to me in Delaware Water Gap.

I also found that Port Clinton has no internets. None. I almost hitchiked back to Hamburg with some other hikers, but instead gave up and went to the Port Clinton Hotel where I ate a massive meal and caught USA vs. Spain on the tele.



[Hawk Mtn. chicken sandwich and small fries w/ gravy. I couldn't finish either :(]

I hiked out of town in the late afternoon and made it a whole 6.1 miles to the Windsor Furnace shelter. The next day was 16.5 miles to the Allentown Hiking Club shelter, and I remember nothing, other than that I almost stepped on whatever venomous serpent this was:

Day 3: Testing out the tarp system

In the morning I stuck around The Free State [see below] doing laundry and internets and repacking my pack until I was the last hiker there. Janel, the co-owner of the hostel, gave me a ride to the Smithsburg post office, 2.4 miles away, where I mailed home more than 2 pounds of stuff.

After lunch [Reuben, popsicle, soda] at the Smithsburg Market, I picked up some new and very necessary supplies at the pharmacy. I got Zeasorb powder [think Gold Bond] and some zinc oxide ointment to fight my worst enemy in my early hiking days: chafing. Since then, I've been powdering up every morning, and I've noticed I'm not the only guy on the trail who starts his day with a shot of powder down his shorts. The powder is also good for keeping my feet dry, and the ointment also works on poison ivy.

I hiked the AT 5.1 miles to the Devil's Racecourse shelter, which sat derelict at the bottom of a beast of a steep decline. Only one other guy was there, but another two - Thumper and Solar Speck, two section hikers - soon arrived. Those guys and I went back up to the trail. An Asian guy who didn't speak any English asked "Shelter?" and, upon seeing me nod, headed down.

Snooze and Pokie, two girls thru-hiking north, set up a tent, made up a fire and invited everyone over. My nightcap was instant coffee heated over my butane Primus stove. After all that, I slept fitfully in my very exposed tarp tent because of bear paranoia, clutching pocket knife and flashlight in hand.

Next up

What is sore today: Chafeable areas, calves, collar bones and hips. It will be a short hike today, which means I won't be crossing the Mason - Dixon Line until tomorrow. But I'm completely recharged.

Off to repack and try to cut out some weight.

-jh

p.s. gear status: I wish I had more soccer shorts and less convertible hiking pants.