Appalachian Trail, Ho!: May 2009

Saturday, May 16, 2009

10 Min. in Damascus

Hello, hello. We are in Damascus alive and well. I'm clean. I can't emphasize how awesome that is. Just got my first shower in 2 weeks and my first time doing laundry in 3 weeks. Why do people like thru-hikers? I have about 10 minutes to throw something down, so pardon the brevity. Trail days is great. Julia and I didn't realize how many friends we had made on the trail until we were all in one place. There are ~25,000 people here for the festivities; hikers, past hikers, friends of the trail and vendors galore. The owner of Granite Gear said he would fix my pack for free (he was a little inebriated at the time). A great pack, but I have every strap tightened as far as it will go and its still falling off my hips. And its a medium. Dry food and copious exercise: the ultimate diet plan. We're finally hitting sub-par water sources, so we're purifying again. Boo. My kilt is great, a bit drafty, but great. There's no resistance when hiking and keeps me ventilated. I'm playing with the trail name The Phlo, but I may not keep it. People like Mr. Anonymous aparantly. We didn't quite make it to trail days, we caught a ride out of Dennis Cove from the Kinkora Hostel about 50 miles south o' Damascus. On monday we're headed back there and get a double dose of Damascus. Shoot, getting booted.

The Aqua Blaze: From Waynesboro to Harpers Ferry. 200 miles that cuts off 150 miles of white blazing. Oh well. Purism went out the window a while ago. I would love to have some friends meet us for that stretch, partly because somebody needs to bring boats. Lenny, I know you got a truck and nothing better to do. This will take place around the middle of June. I will have an exact-ish date by the begining of June. Anyone who wants in should shoot me an e-mail at jessrumburg@gmail.com The whole thing should take a week to a week and a half, and there is the town of Front Royal halfwaydown the river in case people can't make the whole thing. Thanks Manner for the tentative aid, I look forward to a visit out to camp.

Ok, wish I had more time and cell service. There are a lot of people I want to call. And Mike D, any time you want me to wipe the floor with you in Goldeneye, you got it. Love to all, I advise a long stint in the woods for all that ailes you. Peace

The First Quarter

Thanks to everyone who wished us happy birthdays:) For Jess's, we took a "zero" day with our "tribe" (Marc, Liz, Katy, & Jen), who we happened to run into again the day before in Hot Springs. We were able to spend an hour in the natural hot springs mineral water privately owned jacuzzi, which we're pretty sure was absolutely amazing for our bodies, so that expense falls under "health". For Julia's we hiked in the rain, but it was a nice warm rain (and a beautiful day and area) that cooled us after a sweaty morning, and I (Julia) discovered that if you don't wear a rain jacket when its raining, the rain replaces the sweat and you totally don't need to drink OR carry water, lightening the load by like 10 pounds. For dinner that night, Jess took a packet chicken, some crushed oyster crackers, and some honey and fried it with a little olive oil...wow best dinner ever! Also got oodles of goodies from Moms & Dads. PS - Doris/Mom, a pound of Twizzlers is too much!
Rachel, happy to hear from you:) I got your holiday greetings but at&t service SUCKS down here, only local networks get any coverage. But it def made us smile:) & Drew you should fully come hiking with us, forget the Ant Farm! We were so sad when we realized by how short we were going to miss you when we went up last time, but you know how spontaneous we are and how bad at communication we all are, lol. But it was like "Darn, if we had just called we could have worked something out:(...boo." But that's ok; Commune's totally going to happen, the longer I ride this ride called life the more I know that is going to be a destination. The Rat Race is a lie, and life is so much better than that once you leave it where it belongs: In A Town! Leave it to the crazies that feel like a paycheck makes their life worth living. You see them out here: they bring the Rat Race with them and wake up at the crack of dawn, hike till 5 pm ("workin' nine to five, can't get any better, you just move ahead, la da da-da daa da daa da..." dolly parton i'm thinking?) and get to a shelter and spend two hours trying to find cell phone service just so they can call someone and complain about the weather. I know we're all going to seperate corners for a while, get the travelling bug out, get some experience under our belts, but someday, we'll all be tired of wandering aimlessly and want a campfire we can all sit around for the next 50 years or so... sounds like a plan to me anyway;)

So we're almost at the quarter mark. We're at Trail Days right now, a commercialized hiker help-out hot-house, but good for finding people we know. We have once again reunited our tribe, met some new folks to add, and are saying a sad farewell to many that only planned to make it this far, including In Da Wind, who's getting back on her bike and riding to Alaska with her son or some such craziness. People have been dropping like flies since the Smokies; we think it's because they think "Oh the hard part's over, this is going to be cake.......oh wait......no, this still sucks........ forget it, I'm out." We have also come to feel that we recently crossed some kind of invisible transition point. We are no longer "camping" at night and "hiking" is no longer our job... we live outside, and we hike on because staying in the same place gets boring. We're nomads. I think it was because we went a week without showering or laundry and I couldn't take it anymore so took care of those things in a stream. So over two weeks without indoor plumbing of any kind made this whole thing a lot easier someh0w. It's not our "job", it's not just what we "do" for the sake of "doing", we just are and this is how we roll now. When we come to towns, the whole thing just seems bizzare. People watch us as if we're weird, but we know they have to get up for work in the morning. Why? So people can make more money to buy more stuff that they don't need? So they can work off the debt they were fooled into getting by the millionaires in the first place: look at my life, don't you want all my stuff? don't you want this lifestyle? It's been shown in some scientific study that money only buys happiness up to $50,000 because then what you actually need is taken care of: food, shelter (quoting the Time Magazine Doris/Mom sent in our Birthday Package). Past that, it's up to you. You create your own reality, and not with money, but with the way You choose to approach Your life. The people that we're out here with have only reinforced this...belief? understanding of workings of the world? whatever you want to call it. I asked Moe! why real life can't be like this when we were talking about how coincidences often lead to amazingly good things along the trail, and she responded "This is real life. What makes you think that other world is more real than this one?" Here's an example of such a coincidence: On the way to Damascus, the location of Trail Days, we were still south of Hampton so we had to find a ride. There was a hostel on a forest road .2 miles away from the trail, before the main road we were hoping to hitch hike from. Note: this is an hour ride. As we're hiking, we find a sweat shirt on the ground, and we think it may be this couple's we shared a shelter with the night before. We knew they were planning on going to the hostel to get a shower before hiking on to the road to hitch. So when we got to the forest road, Jess dropped his pack, left me with it at the trail, and ran up to the hostel to give back the sweat shirt. They didn't even realize it was missing, and was very excited as it was the only warm thing the guy had. They had already arranged a ride with someone there, and we got to hop on with them. If they hadn't dropped their sweatshirt, we would have passed right by the hostel and had 4 more miles to hike, plus a hour long hitch is hard to find. Quite a "coincidence". Hikers says that what you feed to the trail, the trail feeds back to you. Karma I guess you could say. Or just life. That works too.
Then you get involved with other conversations, like one we got into with Gnarly one night until 5 am (waaay late for hikers). Why don't people just go with that flow? (Jess's trail name, by the way, is now unofficially possibly The Phlo). Can we wake people up, to choose Love instead of Fear? A woman recently asked us if we were packing heat, which some of you may recall we considered before coming out here. Now that seems like a joke! Why choose to be afraid of that one in a million, when the other 999,999 are not only harmless, but are probably perfectly friendly happy people that you could hang out with around a camp fire for hours? And suppose the worst did happen? This is just a ride, so don't ever be afraid, because this is just a ride, and when it's all over, either you'll collapse on the ground shouting "never again!", or your hair will be a mess and your eyes will be a little crazy, and you'll say "let's ride again!" But most "sane" people in this world would say that I'm the crazy one. As Bill Hicks would say "Look at my big bank account and my furrows of worry! This must be real!" And maybe someday I'll have kids and I'll want the house and the security of a steady job and a paycheck and benefits and all that insanity. Or maybe I'll just build a little farm in the middle of nowhere with me, my love, my friends, and a field where I grown my own food. What more would I need for personal happiness?
For the rest of the world to wake up, stop fighting wars, stop with all the poverty and BS that leads people into lives of misery, and realize: This is Just A Ride.

So what have we learned from this first quarter? You tell me.

*My name's The Phlo, and I approved this message.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Pictures IV

First Flower

12 of our first 14 hiking days were this. Just this. ~Every day. For two weeks.

Rhodedendron are the only green plants here at this time of year. Luckily they grow in abundance - along river beds, on tops of mountains where other trees can't grow. What a sad and desolate place it would have been without them.

There's probably a great view behind the mist...

I just got a digital camera (hooray and thanks Doris/Mom:) Happy Birthday to me:) ), so there will be many more to come, but my cord is buried in my pack somewhere and there are mad thru-hikers wanting to use this library's 4 computers (Jess included), so I'm going to vacate the premisis and get some food. Will hear from us next in 4-5 days from Erwin, TN. Peace and Love to all!

Still alive and literate (something from Jess)

Howdy all. In case you were wondering, I am on this trail and no, I have not forgotten how to type. (Not entirely, anyway.) The issue is that we've only been able to use computers in hotels, of which there is only one and usually has a half hour time limit. Thus, Julia's superior typing skills allow her to type more than "Hi, we're alive and in the woods." in that time period. It took me an hour just to check my e-mail today. Then, as I started to type, I got kicked off the library computer in Hot Springs, NC. So I bought a paperback copy of Jaws ($.50)and relaxed for a bit. Now I'm back and ready to elucidate.(think that's a real word)

First, Mike, very cool about Alaska. Glad we're not the only nature nuts. Don't pawn my bass amp and I will be needing the various N64 things of mine back. I intend to play the Legend of Zelda all the way through after the trail and before I move off the couch. Check out http://www.zenstoves.net/ or http://www.vargo.com/ for light-weight cooking options.

Next, the Fam. Thanks so much for your support and well wishes. Love to you all. And Aunt Andy, we appreciate the animal sacrifice. We got through the Smokies with clear skies, so it must have helped. The forecast is calling for rain, thunderstorms, and tornadoes for the next 5 days, though, so break out the old headdress and and stoke the bonfires.

A special shout out to Mr. Baxter, the man who started me on the path of the Environmental Scientist. God willing, I'll actually get my degree one of these days. The check's in the mail, as it were. Thanks for everything.

And to my scattered and eclectic mob of Friends, I miss you. I'm looking forward to whenever I see you next, the wedding at the latest. Less than a year to go, so mark your calenders for April 16-21 at least. Your all involved, 'cause I need a brute-squad. Somebody's got to build bonfires and act as roadies for the Mariachi Band. Maybe circus tent construction, we're still sorting out the details... But don't just wait till then! Why not step outside for a bit and come on a luxurious guided tour of the east coast! The aqua blaze would be my recommendation, but more about that later.

So to catch up from Gatlinburg to here, we hitched a ride out of town and up into the mountains. We stood there for a while until a guy with the mulletiest mullet ever pulled over and told us to hop in the back, because the front was full o youngin's. For those of you who don't know what a mullet is, I have provided a picture. I'm pretty sure it's the same guy and truck.

He took us half way up the mountain and stopped at the trail he and his rascals were hiking. He apologized for not being able to take us all the way. We said we were glad for what we got and would find our way. We always do. Ten feet down the road, a truck pulls over, asks if we're going to Clingman's Dome and we were off. If there's one thing hitching has taught me, it's that there are some really great people in the world. With all the garbage you hear on the news and all the stuff you are told as a kid about not talking to strangers(good advice for the age group), you sometimes develop a dismal view of the human race as a whole. But there are a lot of people who will help out total strangers for no personal gain. I guess they may have been in the same sort of situation before. I know I plan on picking up every hitcher I see from now until I get stabbed. Its an interesting trust dynamic. You trust they aren't going to kidnap you, they trust you aren't going to rob them. It's exhilarating and comforting at the same time. Plus we're a couple, which helps with the rides. What are the odds we're both serial killers?

So we got to Clingman's dome and started Hiking. There were trees, etc. Lots of flowers, which we can now take pictures of, thanks to Julia's new digital camera. We got out of the Smokies and bid a heart-felt good riddance. They were nice, but I really don't like staying shelters and not being able to hike whatever mileage i feel like in a day. Plus, its all downhill from Clingman's. Clingman's was awesome at sunset. It was like a gigantic ruby shining through an emerald screen of red spruce and Frasier fir. We had reached a major milestone in our quest to become thru-hikers. All the non-hackers are gone, we have triumphed over the cold weather, and summited the highest point on the trail. Maybe it was the altitude and the endorphins, but when we climbed that tower, I was filled with such exuberant energy that I let out a primal yell that echoed across the mountains and through the valleys. At least all the way to the parking lot half a mile down the hill.

So we left the Smokies and found a place called Standing Bear Farm. I could have stayed here for years. Good vibes sprang out of the ground like invisible wildflowers. As soon as we set foot on the property, I felt a sense of safety and peace. We also ran into a friend of ours that we hadn't seen in weeks. He had been laid up with a bum knee for a while. Plus, we met Rockhound. That's right, THE Rockhound. When we hiked the Smokies in 2007, we met one thru-hiker named Tito, Tito, the Taco Eating Bandito and he told us one story about the craziest person he had ever met. Rockhound. He was everything the stories implied. We have his picture, and will include that sometime in the future. We were going to hike on after a lunch of DiGiorno pizza, but Rockhound, who was volunteering there, was a persuasive salesman. I think he had a sprinkler rigged up because as we were on our way out, it started to rain, and stopped the second we agreed to stay. He cut us a deal though and let us stay in the old chicken coop. It had three walls, a wooden pallet instead of stairs or a ladder, and the best view of any lodging I have stayed in previously. It was perfect. We did our laundry by hand with a washboard and sat around the campfire all evening. I think I might have to take a vacation down there and just hang out for a while after this is all over. It was like walking into my daydream. For those of you who don't know, My ultimate goal in life is to have my own self-sustaining organic farm/brewpub/hostel. (And you thought I went to college so I could get a job) It was reassuring to know that I could support myself just off the hostel.

Now back on the trail, we had a killer up, which we dominated, fueled by Mountain Dew and Snickers. Then there was a nasty caffeine crash and we camped out. We were shooting for Max Patch, but it wasn't happening. We woke at 7:45 alert and ready to go. At 7:50, there was a torrential downpour and we went back to sleep. At 9:30 things looked more favorable, so we saddled up and headed out.

We had been hearing about Max Patch for the last 100 miles. When we got there it was like a scene out of The Sound of Music. You know, twirling around, "The hills are alive...." Well, you get the idea. On the Patch we ran into 2 guys named Gnarly and 10x10 who told us of a Bluegrass festival in Hot Springs and they were planning a BBQ. So we tried to pull 20 miles and get to town. On the way I thought I had broken my foot, but once we got here, a fellow hiker and former radiologist diagnosed it as nerve damage. Now I have expensive inserts in my shoe, so I hope that does the trick.

The Library is closing soon, so I have to spare you a large part of my philosophy and the details of Hot Springs. I had an awesome birthday and soaked in a mineral spring bath. Then had dinner in a honkey tonk place with Lynard Skynard and a pool table. What more could a wayward hiker ask for. And best of all, we had caught up with our tribe.

Well, that's it for now. I really want to make this aqua blaze happen, so if your reading this Mike Manner, I would like to borrow some canoes. If your not reading this, you should be. Maybe we can work out a trade of rentals in exchange for Julia and I putting in some time at Camp.

Pictures III

Our tent isn't the roomiest place in the world. Hoping to get the 5-man version someday. Otherwise, once it was seam-sealed, the sketchy off-brand 1.1 lb floorless tent is working out pretty well

Ye Olde Crapper. They use "mulching privies" here, whereby you throw in a handful of leaves after you do doo-doo to increase aerobic microbial breakdown. In Georgia, they wouldn't let you pee in them, which is BS because moisture totally assists in this method of waste management, and once we were in NC that restriction was (thankfully) lifted. Jess, ps by the way, has stated that he has a new appreciation for the difficulties of being female. Peeing with a pack on was a fun and interesting adventure which, after several failed attempts, I think I have finally mastered. Stupid boys with their posable parts.

Our awesome stove at work. We're the only ones with this kind that we've seen, and everyone else is either having no fun at all with their homemade version or lugging a stove thats 3x as heavy. Go Team J&J:) (and thanks Lori/Mom:) ) The silver thing is a windscreen, and there's also a reflector piece under the stove that speeds up the process nicely.

Pictures II

All of our stuff: 2 weeks of food (ziplocks at top center) including but not limited to oatmeal, pop tarts, peanut butter, honey, cous cous, powdered mashed potatoes, angel hair pasta, chicken packets, spam packets, tortillas, extra sharp chedder cheese, powdered milk, olive oil, "fiber plus" granola bars, trail mix (including nuts, raisins, granola, dried fruit), salami stick, and hopefully if we're lucky some packets of mayo and mustard; 1 per person sleeping pad, sleeping bag, silk liner, rain pants, rain jacket, fleece jacket, fleece pants, down jacket, hat, bandana, camp shoes, hiking shoes, 1 set silk longjohns, 1 set 50% cotton longjohns, 2 pair underwear, 2 pair hiking socks, 2 pair liner socks, 1 pair camp socks, emergency blanket, aquamira (water purification drops), pocket knife, lighter, and reading book; 2-L pot and 1.5-L pot; 2 spoons, 2 cups, 1 alcohol stove and wind shield, 20 oz. denatured alcohol and 12 fuel pellets; first aid kit, vitamins, cell phone and charger, sunscreen and aloe (still haven't used either since the sunburn in Atlanta), anti-bug-bite-stuff, Dr. Bronner's Miracle All-In-One-Biodegradable Soap, Antibacterial hand gel, 100% DEET (which we have since tossed because it contaminated our hands, which are necessary for eating off of, and doesn't work on gnats, the most annoying of insects); 1 floorless tent, Seam Sealer for tent, tyvek for floor; 1 journal, 1 set colored pencils, 2 pencils, 1 sharpee; caribeener, rope, and 3 stuff sacks for bear bags; extra rope (used to lash tyvek onto Julia's pack); nail clippers; "Appalachian Pages: Guidebook to Hiking the AT", deck of cards, "Cosmic Wimpout"; and I'm totally forgetting stuff.

A 12-Man Shelter - sizes vary from 5 to 20

Cool thing about sunny days when there was no foliage was that through the trees you always had a view, even if the camera couldn't pick it up. Probably the worst part of rainy days is the mist, blocking any chance of a view, and making the hike pretty dull. I guess once the "green tunnel" has filled in we won't mind as much 'cause we'll never have a view.