Mischief and Mayhem on the High Seas

At 1:45, well fed on shellfish and reclining on a corduroy futon, it is difficult to believe the state of affairs that I found myself in only a week ago. And that pales in comparison to the fateful afternoon of July 8th;a day which began full of promise and optimism. But thats how this whole thing began, and look how far that got us. (Read: a mix of sarcasm and ironic honesty)

Apple Orchard Falls was beautiful. There was an opening in the tree cover on the path, exposing a beautiful valley, reminiscent of Georgia and the Smokies, which opened up to the west, allowing for gorgeous sunsets. We had high hopes of making it to Waynesboro by the AquaBlaze, full of Grandma food as we were and prepared with steaks and a box of wine for the evening (courtesy of Jess's parents). We hiked on... but didn't make it far. Turns out Grandma food and 6 zero days has a leadening effect on hiking legs, and we barely made it 5 miles. The next day, again with high hopes and better hydrated, we set off for 16 miles of downhill... and only made it 8 before Graveyard was literally collapsing and crying in frustration and pain. Turns out you can't even pretend to be a thru-hiker if all you've been doing is hitch-hiking. We split from Jen and Ninja again, who had to go meet Sod Father to return his dog, Blue, to him. After a few painfully slow days, we realized there was no way were going to make the AquaBlaze and hopped off at Glasgow, from which we hitched to Buena Vista. We found our first bar since entering Virginia here, but it didn't serve liquor! And all I wanted was a jack & coke. To our surprise, and the surprise of the bartender, the one thing I wanted was the one premixed malted beverage he had – bottles of premixed Jack Daniels and Coke. We asked if the friendly guy if we could camp in his small lawn (offering small compensation), and he sadly said that even if he gave us permission, we'd be arrested by the end of the night for loitering or vagrancy or public drunkenness by one of the 15 cops in this population 5,000 or less town. He also cut me off after 3 drinks because “no one's gotten busted out of my establishment yet”. Apparently, stumbling on the street is an arrestable offense in Buena Vista. We sat next to a couple who owned a horse ranch of some kind, and the reminisced about how they used to go hiking before their knees gave out and their back got hurt... in other words, before they turned 50. We talked with them for quite some time, and they left us with good wishes for a safe journey. When it came our turn to leave, we discovered that they had paid our bill for us! We camped at the local (overcharged, but we could afford it now because of the kindness of strangers) campground. Next day, we began the 60 mile hitch to Waynesboro. We still didn't have enough time to walk there, as we knew that the boats would probably arrive 2-3 days before July 1 (our scheduled departure date), and there were no more towns between Buena Vista and Waynesboro. And friendly family on their way home from grocery shopping ran us up Blue Ridge Parkway a little ways, and then we sat and waited. Graveyard drew a pretty sign on our Tyvek in the 2 hours that we sat there, and eventually a quiet man on his way home from fishing pulled over to give us a lift. Over the course of the next half hour car ride, we came to learn (among other things) that he was an actor (he's done several appearances on that t.v. comedy with Alec Baldwin and Tina Fey) and that his dream role was King Lear... which, coincidently enough, I was actually reading at that moment, having been inspired by Gnarly (an actor as well, who could quote Shakespeare) to pick up a play I had never seen. We got along with him quite well. Instead of dropping us when he got off the Blue Ridge before Waynesboro, he took us with him to run a few errands, treated us to pizza (! where we finally learned his name was Ray), and brought us all the way to Waynesboro! Wonders never cease. There are two things this trail has definitively taught me – we're all trying to be good, we just don't know how; and to be grateful for the amazingness of the world and of other people. Thanks Ray!

It was the eve of June 28th, a Sunday. We had left the Lutheran basement hostel, closed for the season, where we had unexpectedly encountered our past compadres Gnarley (AKA General Gnarley of the Minutemen Militia) and Boofer, the one who coined my trail name. After our eviction, we bid safe journies to our friends and made our way to the local YMCA. The people there were sympathetic to hikers and provided free showers and a field in which to pitch a tent. It came furnished with a picnic table and well kept Porto-John. What more can a man ask for? In addition to the plush amenities, our site came with a few loco SOBO's (southbound hikers, a wholly different breed) and front row tickets to the Jerry Springer Show. One SOBO from Vermont took an interest in aqua blazing and asked to sign on. That made eleven: the original nine, consisting of Myself, Graveyard, Dugout, Dizzy Bat, Jen, Ninja, Danger Muffin, Ezra, and Goucha; as well as Magma Orphan, introduced to us by Gnarley at the Hostel, and Miles the SOBO. Plus Einstein the dog. This worked out well, as Ryan and Natahan Houeholder were inbound at that moment with five canoees and a kayak in tow. We had also begun a waiting list, with Wheels and Cookie (pus a dog) seeking an end to the tedium of routine and the Virginia Blues, a well documented hiker phenomenon. Many would offer explainations for it, but I maintain its existance as inexplicable. It is around Wheels that an impromptu episode of Jerry Springer arose, also inexplicably. A pair of locals stopped by on scooters and proceeded to drink themselves stupider on cheap beer in large cans, and make small talk consisting mostly of mountain slang and gibberish. This was unusual, but not unheard of, and we tried our best to be polite and represent hiker-kind in a positive fashion. We began to get the impression that all the Neighborhood Meth Watch stickers we had been seeing were not just a budget ploy. Either that or these two gentlemen had been drinking too much of the South River water, and not upstream o' the DuPont plant (makers of such wonderful products as Tyvek, our floor) One of the locals finally left, but a dispute broke out between Wheels and the remaining yocal. He felt he had crossed us and demanded that we 'beat his arse' to make up for it. This went on for some time, since we would do no such thing, regardless of whether he would fight back or not. He finally called his wife, who showed up in a rusted out van with two teen sons and a daughter. This woman was one of the most terrifying and intimidating people I have ever met, and she seemed perfectly willing to give her husband the thrashing he was after. There was a lot of bad noise between the family, culminating in her dragging him away by his collar and their son riding off on the scooter. We could only look at each other, completely at a loss for words.

That night, Ryan and Nathan showed up with the boats and Dugout. They had their share of excitement as well, trying to rig the trailer with a working light system and finally duct taping flashlights to it and wrapping them in red cellophane. We spent the evening catching up and then called it an early night a bit before dawn. Two more thru-hikers pulled in and joined our revelry. They were understandably jealous of the Aqua Blaze and spent a good hour making plans to buid a raft and float along with us. next day we ran errands and were suprised to return to camp and find them sitting next to a large inner tube and plotting to buy several more. We left them to their delusions and made a run to Walmart. While there, we saw a yellow rubber raft for $40 and figured that if they were dead set on tagging along, they would be better off in the raft than in a craft made of tires selling for $20 a tube. And that is how Walking Home and Chinese Tourist (no, he's not Chinese) pirated their way on to the Aqua Blaze. Wheels and Cookie took a more legitimate route. Miles had vanished that morning with all of his belongings and was never seen again. We also found out that our friend Jr. was trying to join our group and had his own canooe, and a dog. This gave us two openings and cleared our wait-list. And that is how the Aqua Blaze grew to 15 people and 3 dogs (Graveyard, The Phlo, DugOut, DizzyBat, Einstein the dog, Jen, Ninja, Ezra, Danger Muffin, Goucha, Magma Orphan, Wheels, Cookie, Chaya the dog, Jr., Rusty the dog, Walking Home, and Chinese Tourist) in 6 cannoes, one kayak, one rubber Walmart Raft and one tube with a cooler lashed to it.

We are not expert canoers. We are not guides or in any way professionals. We did not elect leaders, or elect to call ourselves leaders of the AquaBlaze we organized, but chose the democratic route instead - which, of course, made our progress much slower as all 15 people (and 3 dogs) had to have their say in every decision.

After spending 8 or 9 hours packing up the YMCA, loading and moving the boats, and a brief safety discussion (this is a throw line, please wear your life vests or keep them close), we finally were in position to get on the water and, of course, it started to thunder and lightening. We waited till it stopped and, though it was still raining and it was already 5 p.m., we disembarked. It became immediately obvious that we were in for a long and perilous paddle. After managing to float, paddle and drag our boats downstream for about five miles (the South river being significantly less deep than we had hoped), we made camp across from a cow pasture and ate a huge communal pot of pseudo-Pad Thai. One day down, so far so good. The only casualty was Danger Muffin, who slipped while guiding a boat in to shore and was subsequently run over by said boat. She was soaked but uninjured, but the earlier rain had dashed any hopes we had about staying dry anyway.

We spent the next day dragging our way down the river, keeping our spirits up by reminding ourselves that the South Fork was only 12 miles away. We hoped to make it all the way, but the water was shallow, the 15 of us didn't get all on the water until 12, the yellow raft wasn't really working out (in that we were carrying all their stuff and we were towing them by the end of the day because they couldn't keep up), and we discovered that Jr.'s boat, which he had borrowed from his neighbor's backyard where it was literally growing weeds, had a propensity for leaking. We also were spread miles apart from each other on the river. We didn't make any "rules" before disembarking, so the more... motivated members of our crew departed at least a half hour before the last people, and as they were more motivated, made more progess in less time. Luckily, they thought to stop 3 hours before sunset, so last-in-line caught them right before dark. They told us they had stopped at a seemingly abandonded field to camp when a dude with a shotgun walked up. Yes, literally. He asked (politely) "What are you doing on my property?" They explained we were thru-hikers on an AquaBlaze, and all that entails. He said that he only lets people camp on his property if they ask permission. Luckily, first in line were 2 cute and pursuasive girls and 2 quiet guys (who didn't mention the other 11 behind them), which may have had something to do with the fact that they obtained permission to stay. We took this as a hint and asked for permission from the closest house from then on. Turns out the shotgun was for gophers. Made it about 10 miles down the river.

Next day we established that each boat should be at least in eye-contact with the boat ahead and behind, and made it to the South Fork of the Shenandoah River around noon (didn't leave til 12 again), which was everything we hoped it could be - wide and DEEP! We can actually paddle for longer than 10 minute stretches!! We stopped at Elkton, a small town at the junction of the two rivers, which was also listed in the Appalachian Pages as a possible resupply town. Most of the crew took off to buy beer - a necessary luxury of the AquaBlaze that is simply impossible on the WhiteBlaze - and mending materials for Jr.'s "Fail Boat", while 4 of us waited with the boats. We discussed our current lack of progress, and decided that we would present to the group that we should perhaps set a disembark time of 9 a.m. and have a 7 a.m. wake-up call from someone who is morning-inclined. An hour or so later, some returned with pizza and beer. An hour or so after that, Goucha and Ezra returned from the remaining part of the crew. Apparently, it was quite a long walk to the hardware store and, upon arrival, most of them simply could not resist the mexican restaurant located conveniently next door. Goucha and Ezra couldn't bring themselves to sit down to margaritas with ice and be waited on in air conditioning while the rest of us sat, unknowingly, guarding the boats on this hot, humid day, so they returned to tell us what the rest were up to... and as my blood began to boil, Goucha sat down next to me in the canoe, looked me in the eye, and calmly told me that she and Ezra had been discussing leaving the Aqua Blaze so that there would be room for all. And I, Graveyard (can you figure out where we switched? haha a game!), was furious. Not at Goucha and Ezra, of course, but at the margarita drinkers and, particularly, the pirates. For now they were truly pirating their way into our boats.

Without asking for specific reasons why they were unhappy with our current situation (I could pretty much guess it was the late starts, the lack of progress, and the mexican situation), I told them that I would rather tell the pirates to peace out, it's been fun, but it's really not working out; that we had just been discussing the fact that we need to get up earlier; that the South Fork would be easier and quicker than the South River had been; that I would be so sad to see either of them go; but that, as we have people to fill their places, they do not have to stay, that they should think about what I said and that they should do "whatever floats your boat". Ha. Ha. Ezra decided to stay (I doubt he really wanted to go, except to make room for the others). Goucha decided to go. "Sorry, Gravey, but I've gotta hike my own hike, yano?" I did. She was up and ready to go every morning before anyone else even got up. And I don't think she was a huge fan of people pounding beers with breakfast. But that's neither here nor there. She left immediately; threw her pack on her back and hitched out of Elkton and back to the White Blaze.

And then the margarita-men drifted back. Dugout, Jr., Wheels, and Cookie came first. DizzyBat, who had been waiting with me from the start, got Mexican from Dug, so she wasn't mad anymore and told Dugout that we felt...shafted? Thinking she was mad at him, he got defensive with his female companion, until I interrupted with a few harsh words about margaritas on the rocks and Goucha leaving us and stormed away... well... to a different canoe, less than 5 feet away, but I think I made my point. He shut up, anyway. 10 minutes or so later he snuck over with an apology beer for me, which was more than enough to quench my rage and bring on the guilt for yelling, so I gave him a big hug and told him I was more mad about Goucha, which wasn't his fault, than the margaritas. He was quickly followed by Wheels, who sheepishly muttered "sorry if I made you angry..." like a puppy with his tail between his legs, at which point I couldn't help but laugh, and it was done. Chinese and Walking Home, our friendly neighborhood pirates, arrived next, with Subway for the ones who had stayed with the boats. I (pretty coolly) told them I had eaten pizza brought back 2 hours ago, that Goucha was leaving, but I appreciated the thought and perhaps I'd eat it later. Chinese asked why Goucha was leaving, and I told him what I had told her - that I would rather them leave than loose her - which he took quite well - but as she had opted to leave anyway, one of them got to canoe, hooray:) As I'd been able to say what frustrated me so to them, that was done as well.

We paddled on... didn't make it far as it was already 5 p.m. Walking Home, now alone in Fail Craft (the raft which was now sporting many gorilla-taped holes) being towed by Chinese and Danger Muffin (who had lost her paddling partner), Fail Boat continuing to sink, and the rest of the navy still doing well. That night we pulled up to a field, 2 guys and 2 girls went to find the house that owned it (Wheels could not believe the sweet-heart I unearthed for the job from under my tough-girl exterior, which I found highly entertaining), and we proceeded to drink heavily in the canoes pulled up to shore until dark. Made it about 6 miles down the river.

I, The Phlo (haha, switched again!) was unreasonably distressed after the departure of Goucha. Although I was in no way the leader of this rag-tag mob, I still felt a responsibility for having assembled this flotilla of doom, and the loss of one of our members was saddening, especially because we had only just reached the deeper, swifter waters of the Shenandoah. As we paddled on, I maintained a surly and generally silent demeanor until the end of the day, when we finally beached in a grassy area on the western shore of the river. Group morale seemed low, so we did the only reasonable thing and proceeded to sit in the beached canoes for several hours, drinking warm Budweiser. About halfway through the case of Budweiser, I managed to gracefully, and with much skill, fall into the river, climb out, and eat soggy Subway sandwiches and promptly fall asleep. I awoke the next morning to find that all of my beer had disappeared, and some scoundrel had replaced it with empties. Imagine my dismay (though not surprise) when Graveyard informed me that the scoundrel was... me. But, I was in good spirits, and no worse for the wear, and I even managed to conduct myself respectfully (except for the part where I climbed into the tent wearing all my wet clothes, soaking both our sleeping bags... whoops).

And so we paddled on, 233 years to the day after the signing of the Declaration of Independence. We did the wake up at 7, and were on the river by... 11. Oh, well, progress is progress. Walking Home, Chinese, and Danger Muffin opted to deflate Fail Craft in favor of a 3-person canoe, which worked out surprisingly well. We began the day in good spirits, sure we would accomplish many miles that day, and it seemed that we would... until we encountered our first class 2 rapid.

The thing about not having a professional along is you have no idea what's coming. We knew there was a Class 2 ahead somewhere. We thought it would be easy. No one knew the right path to take through the rapid. No one was wearing life jackets. We came upon two islands; the deepest route was to the far left, the shallowest to the far right, and the center looked like you'd end up dragging your boat. As we spent the first 3 days of our voyage doing that, we naturally thought the deepest route was the safest course. Chinese, “Floating” Home, and Danger Muffin went first, followed by The Phlo in the kayak. The threesome, with their added maneuverability and experience (Walking Home has spent much of his life on the water in kayaks, can't speak for the others, but they certainly always seemed to know what they were doing), made it through fine, as did the buoyant kayak, but they knew it had been a close call. The rapid dropped about five feet, and the clearest shoot appeared to be between 2 rocks about 8 feet apart from each other. However, the rushing water between the two hid the menace at the bottom – a huge rock, right in the center. They barely avoided it, and turned quickly to warn the next boat, but it was too late. DizzyBoat, containing DugOut, DizzyBat, and Einstein, hit it strait on, stopping them dead and throwing Einstein from the boat. The rushing current quickly swung the back end of the boat around, turning it sideways so that the top of the boat faced upstream, thus filling the boat with water, while the strong current rushing into the boat completely pinned it against the 2 sharp rocks they had been attempting to pass between. DizzyBat got knocked out of the boat, sucked under the boat, and out the rapid, thankfully uninjured, though in a state of complete shock. She surfaced to Einstein licking her face and being completely unhelpful, though he was also uninjured. The Phlo hopped out of his kayak near shore and pushed it off towards Dizzy Bat, which she used to steady herself and make her way to solid ground. DugOut managed to keep his seat and got out to attempt to free the boat. Meanwhile, TrioBoat stopped in a shallow part near the center. Chinese and Floating Home left to help DugOut; Danger Muffin held the boat in place and warned incoming canoers of impending doom.... or just take the center instead of the left through the islands. It was too late for Fail Boat; they had already passed the point of no return, but tried a different approach through the rapids, landing them grounded in the shallows farther left than DizzyBoat had approached. On the South River, that was not a problem; just get out and drag. Here, though, the current was much swifter, and it took them quite some time to free themselves. Plus, their sinking boat was full of water.

I was in a canoe with Cookie that day, and as we approached the islands, we could just make out Danger Muffin waving frantically, alone with a canoe and a kayak in the middle of the river. We couldn't really tell what she was signaling, though stop was definitely part of it. We took the center route, as we knew the others had gone left, though we couldn't see all the commotion because of the island in the way. We got through safely. Had to drag our canoe part way, but safely. The others followed us. We got down to Danger Muffin and saw that Einstein, soaking wet, was in the canoe, and turned around to see the boat, completely sideways in the water and being pried out by The Phlo, Chinese, Floating Home, DugOut, and 3 locals who happened to be fishing at the base of the rapid (thank goodness for small favors!), not to mention Jr. and Wheels struggling with their own stranded and flooding Fail Boat. The force of 7 men couldn't move it, so they started detaching the packs (read: all of Dizzy's and Dug's worldly possessions, everything they've needed or wanted for the last 3 months and will need again for the next 3) from the craft and throwing them downriver, where a dazed DizzyBat (now wearing a life jacket) could catch them. With less weight in the boat... they still couldn't make it budge. So they all moved to one end of the craft, and finally all 7 of them were able to force one end up and out of the water and over the rock... leaving the other side pinned still against this very sharp rock, with the current now bending the boat between the two. From my downriver vantage point, I could literally see the boat cracking in two; one long gash running down the side. I mean, this boat was bent. It was done. The Aqua Blaze was over.

To be continued.... (hahaha, it's not over yet)

Pictures!!!

We're in Waynesboro, excitedly anticipating the Aqua Blaze, waiting for the whole crew to arrive.

Here are pictures:) I found out, after creating a gmail, that Google is way more awesome than I previously assumed. You can create a blog, an email, a calander, online documents (like Word or Excel, but accessible to anyone you invite) AND you can post pictures! Lots of them! Quickly and Easily! Without downloading additional software! Hooray:)

Yes, there are a lot of pictures of plants, and, yes, there are a lot of pictures of mountains, but if you scroll through the mountain pics quick enough a lot of them link up to form a panoramic image, so just imagine you are turning your head and looking around.

http://picasaweb.google.com/jkmuench

Photos will continue to be uploaded to this location, but I'll keep including the link at the bottom of every blog so no one who's interested will miss it.

Also, in case anyone missed them, here is the link to some of the disposable cameras I developed that couldn't be uploaded from the Wal-Mart disc.

http://photos.walmart.com/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=130035006/a=90169006_90169006/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/

http://photos.walmart.com/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=127839006/a=90169006_90169006/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/


That's all for now, folks. I'm sure we'll have an exciting update post-Aqua Blaze:D

ps - Joe, really appreciated your last comment:)

Responsibility?

After leaving Marion, where Jess's mom dropped us off for DugOut's birthday, we didn't make it very far before Jess got some kind of awful stomach virus. We assume he caught it from a bad water, as he drank untreated water from a stream that I didn't drink from. We had run out of Aqua Mira, our water treatment method, and were almost out fuel (so no boiling our water clean), so we didn't have much of a choice. We spent the day laid up in a shelter. Luckily, the weather that day was pretty terrible, so our tribe didn't make it that far, and we were able to catch them the next day. Upon catching them, we learned that Jen's mom was driving down from PA for a visit. Jess was still feeling ill, so we didn't really move, camping out near Atkins, VA, so that Jen's mom could pick us all up the next day. She brought us to Wythville (ironically, the town my Grandpa Muench broke his hip in, so I had actually spent some time in this town already), and put all of us (Jess, myself, DugOut, and DizzyBat, and of course Jen) up in a motel with a pool for the whole weekend so she could visit with her daughter without worrying about her loosing her crew! By the end of the weekend, DugOut and DizzyBat decided they would take advantage of Jen's mom travelling north and yellow-blaze with her up to Waynesboro so that they could take their time hiking Shenendoah National Park before she had to leave for her brother's wedding in Mexico. They plan on meeting us again in Waynesboro so they can do the AquaBlaze with us. Meanwhile, Jen, Jess, and I got dropped off in Bland and hiked on. The mountains of VA are pretty dull compared with the prior hike. Instead of hiking up 3000 ft in 3 miles or less to be greeted by astounding views, we hike up 1000 ft in 3 miles and then walk a (supposedly flat) ridgeline for another 3, and then find ourselves walking down another hill to a road or a little podunk "town". No views, no reward, but still just as tired. Even when there is a view, instead of being greeted by huge, jagged mountains and impressive green valleys, we only see more flat ridges. Then it started raining, and all reports said it wouldn't stop for a week. We got to a little road tired and wet and stopped for a snack, and threw out our thumbs at every car that drove by just for kicks. Usually this wouldn't result in a hitch, but I guess this woman took pity on our pathetic looking selves, so she brought us to Newcastle, 25 miles from the trail, and treated us to Subway! From there we hitched (our hitch was very nice, and told us of a secret campsite near Apple Orchard Falls) to Catawba, near Roanoke, where Jess's Grandma Rumburg picked the 3 of us up and brought us to her house for showers and delicious home-cooked meals! Jess's parents came down the next day, and we spent the weekend together. Thursday, Russ did us the added favor of picking up a friend of ours (Ninja and Blue the dog) off the trail, who spent the night in the backyard. On Friday, Jen and Ninja got dropped off at Buchannon. We will be meeting them tonight at the secret site near Apple Orchard Falls. We'll be about 90 miles away from Waynesboro, with 10 days till the AquaBlaze, and we couldn't be more excited. 20 miles per day sitting down!!

This next piece is a response to my Grandpa Muench's comment on our previous blog.

We are very glad you have been able to comment on our blog, I know you had been having difficulties figuring it out. I ask, what is a responsibility? It is certainly not responsibility that keep Jess and I together, but love. He hikes much faster than me, and walks away from me multiple times a day, but it is not "responsibility" that gives him pause, it is love. He knows I can take care of myself, and as I am carrying food, water, and the tent, and that the trail is highly populated by friendly people and has shelters every 10 miles or less, he knows that I would be fine if left on my own. But because he misses my company, he pauses and waits for me once an hour or less. We have been hiking with Jen, and now will also add Ninja to our group. She hikes slower than me, but we feel no "responsibility" to wait for her, we do because we want to, because we enjoy her company as well. Since I chose to bring my cell phone and to create a blog, we haven't walked away from the "responsibility" to keep in touch with our family and friends, though I still feel "responsibility" is a coarse word to describe something that I don't at all consider a responsibility, because I quite enjoy keeping in touch with people in one form on another.
So, I would say the only "responsibility" we have walked away from is our civic duty to do something useful for the society that has turned us into the people we are today through the education system and through the norms and values instilled in us through parents, teachers, and friends, not to mention the society that feeds us, clothes us, houses us, and protects us. Despite our criticism of society, we are keenly aware that without this unified "society", there might be warring factions tearing apart the neighborhoods of America, similar to the disunity we see in the Middle East. Because of this "society", some people farm our food, some people make our goods, some people count our money, and even fewer people actually get to make money, but that's neither here nor there. Point being, it is only because of "society", and this division of labor, that Jess and I are able to do this. In fact, it is only because of Jess' Grandparents Kennedy's hard work for their entire lives that we are able to do this, as they are funding this adventure. So we do feel a responsibility to return the favor to the society that they have been a part of, and that we have been raised in and been a part of. However, as we have spent 22 years being raised within the society, we thought the best thing to do would be to walk away from it, for a little while, to best figure out how we can serve society by getting an outside perspective. We do feel, as you may have observed from previous comments, that society has problems, and we hope that we may be able to help them, or fix them, or work with them to lessen them, one day in the future. In the meantime, we're trying to figure ourselves out so that we know the best way for us to go about doing that. Jesus himself walked away from his problems for a time, into the desert, to work out how he could best alleviate the problems of his time, not to mention the period of his life that is absent from the Bible (aged 12-30).
For right now, if we don't like something, we can just pick up and walk away. That's kind of the idea of this whole thing. It's pretty cool, actually, and I recommend it to anyone who feels life's little pressures are bringing them down. With the media bombarding us with fear, and Ashton Kutcher et al. participating actively in the dumbing down of America's youth, and cars and businesses polluting us into climate change and lobbying so that even the most reform-minded leaders are unwilling or unable to force the change we need, it's been nice to walk away. Don't worry. We'll be back.

Love you:) And thanks for the food for thought:)

From the P.H.L.O. (aka. Phantom Hiker Lost Outdoors, aka Party Hard, Live Once)
I hope my previous blog was not taken as facetious. I really do appreciate Doris' comment, their balancing effect, and the insuing dialogue. I never wished to imply that we were walking away from our responsibilities, but rather from situations we found undesirable. We most certainly have the responsibilities of feeding ourselves, creating our shelter, and providing for our personal needs. It is merely my preference and to meet these responsibilities more directly as opposed to the traditional method of working a job and paying others to provide these goods and services. Except for food. Much to my chagrin. But I am in no way claiming my way to be superior or the only right way. I have become very fond of the following bit o' Hindu wisdom: "It is better to live your own destiny imperfectly than to live an imitation of someone else's with perfection and grace." The Bhagavad Gita

Graveyard here, and I approve PHLO's message

Info on das AQUABLAZE

We are in Pearisburg, after many soggy miles. Forcast is 5 days of lightning, so we had better get used to it. We have officially set a date for the aquablaze. We will be leaving on June 30, so it looks like that won't time out for my cousin bringing the boats. Thanks so much for the offer Carey! So, if anyone has access to a vehicle with a hitch and a little free time, we would be exceedingly grateful. We should be in Roanoke on the 18th or 19th, and will do a nice long blog, because I'm sick of this sticky keyboard and broken mouse already. Thanks Doris for trying to apply balance to our rejection of modern day living. We are well aware of our necessary reliance on corporate America, or rather the products brought from overseas by ungoverned trans-national corperations. (My whistle is the only thing I have that is Made in America) However, we are trying to move ever so slowly towards freedom and self-reliance. It is truly liberating to not have bills and leases, and other obligations. Once I wasn't wasting brainpower trying to juggle my income and outcome amongst a multitude of needs and wants, I felt freed from something I didn't even realize I was enslaved to. Plus we have had lots of time to discuss how silly many of society's conventions are, but I suppose they exist to protect the bottom 10%. Warning labels on toothbrushes? Honestly. It all seems so simple to us, surrounded by people we trust, free of debt, free of dependants, unbothered by anything anyone else does out here. If we don't like it, we don't whine or make rules, we just walk away. Transient life is stacked with hardship, but I feel more alive than I ever have before. So please excuse us wanderers and dreamers our discontent with average America and the white picket fence. It is, after all, just a matter of taste.

The Magic Bus and Other Misadventures of an Outdoor Nature

More pics, Walmart is so lame that they put a software on the CD that this computer can't read, so I had to create albums on their website. Fortunately that means I don't have to post 20 times to get them online. These are from Georgia and the Smokies. I still haven't figured out the best way to get my 4 gigs of digital pics onto a computer and online. Any suggestions? Remember, I can't download anything onto a library computer, and facebook won't do since non-members (read: our parents and grandparents) won't be able to view them. Plus, if I open my facebook I'll get lost and booted from the library before I have a chance to accomplish anything real.

http://photos.walmart.com/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=130035006/a=90169006_90169006/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/

http://photos.walmart.com/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=127839006/a=90169006_90169006/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/

Rewind.

We left Hot Springs the day after Jess's birthday, and we spoke about our birthday celebrations in other posts, which were quite excelent. We got separated from the Tribe before even leaving town, as Jess and I wanted to spend some time at the library. 30 miles later we met up with Russ/Dad Rumburg and his brother, Uncle Ray, who is the first member of the Rumburg half of the family Julia has met. They seemed to thoroughly enjoy the hike, and it seemed (to us) that Jess's Dad has a better idea of why we're here instead of... well... anywhere else. With Trail Days quickly approaching, and many miles to go still, we decided to take the opportunity of having a car around and yellow-blazed 30 miles to Erwin, TN (knowing there was a Pizza Hut there helped convince us;) ). Jess handed off some of his winter gear, and they dropped us off at the trail again. Jess's Dad, on parting, said he was proud of Jess (and me), which went strait to Jess's core (and I also appreciated). Given the feedback from all four parents, it seems all you need to do to get your parents approval is quit your job, loose your place to live, and go wander around in the woods for six months. KIDDING;) I'm guessing it has more to do with our determination to succeed at doing something for no good reason other than because we want to, which is truly a beautiful thing. Feel free to correct me, parents. Speaking of being proud of Jess, it is official: he is a May 2009 BS Graduate from the College of Enivronmental Science and Forestry:). So Mike, we all tied after all.

Up, up, up we hiked to "Beauty Spot", a location that had been talked up to us by past thru-hikers, but it was so cold and windy up there we barely even looked around. It didn't seem like much compared to Max Patch anyway. Up some more onto Unaka Mountain and into a cloud; the day after Russ/Dad visited wasn't even over yet, and Jess was already regretting loosing his winter gear. Julia at this point also discovered that she had left her rain jacket and hat in the car, which was probably/definately worse, since wet-cold is way more of a problem than just cold. Another 20 miles to Roan Mountain, the top of which was, again, in a cloud (first time above 6000 ft since the Smokies). Walking in a cloud is sort of like walking in the rain but worse. The cloud condenses onto the trees and falls as a lightish rain/mist that gets into everything, and it's much colder and windier. Also, no view. We walked right by the shelter at the top without even noticing it. Down the other side, out of the cloud; 2 miles past the shelter, there was a road, which was our first clue that we had passed it. We arrived at the road at sunset. Gnarly, who I mentioned in the last blog, had been bunny-hopping with us (we pass him, he passes us, over and over) throughout that day, and we 3 decided to hike into the night to the next shelter. Up, up, up from the road onto bald mountains (grass only, no significant population of trees or bushes), and the setting sun behind the wispy clouds covering the mountain we had just descended from was so spooky and beautiful and perfect... it looked like some kind of weird Edvard Munch painting (see "The Scream"). We hiked into the night and into the mist, which makes headlamps pretty useless (although I was quite happy to have a brand new really awesome super blindingly bright headlamp), and the trail was pretty poorly maintained so we each wiped out badly, but only once apiece, so the Trail was just letting us know to be careful, which we were thankful for. The 3 of us arrived at the shelter at 11:30. Now, we 3 are late night people, people who enjoy the occaisional night hike, and don't usually get up before 10, and we have been scolded by the self-considered "respectable" hiker for keeping them awake past 7 pm (that is not an exaggeration - the sun doesn't even completely set till 9), so we were understandably ecstatic when we found the shelter was empty - the first empty shelter we have come across this entire hike. The next day was a beautiful, blue sky day, absolutely perfect for the series of balds that we climbed. Balds are beautiful and green and have fantastic panoramic views - see "The Sound of Music" for a more accurate description and a good aerial shot of one. On one bald we came across a herd of longhorn cattle (each horn 2-3 feet long, at least), which were really intimidating, standing on the trail in front of us and uphill. I figured "someone owns these domesticated cattle, I'll just be confident in walking towards them and they'll move". Then the big one stomped his foot, and I saw a calf behind him. We went around them, braving the sticker bushes. As soon as we stepped off the trail, they chilled out and kept doing their thing. I hear the ATC leases these mountaintops to local ranchers to keep the balds bald. That night we camped in a field of 3-ft grass, and ended up talking with Gnarly until 5 am about the nature of the universe and the planet and the species and the society we are trying so desperately to escape, which I believe I mentioned in my rantish blog (I notice no one commented on that).

The next day, with 3 days to the start of Trail Days and 80 miles to go, Gnarly took off to try to make it on foot, figuring he'd at least make the end. We had promised to meet The Tribe, so we continued to amble at a slow steady pace, past several beautiful waterfalls, into Hampton, where we yellow-blazed to Damascus, and found our Tribe again. Liz and Marc acquired their trail names, DizzyBat and DugOut. I'll leave their stories for them to tell. We met and refound many good people, including and not limited to Moe!, Gnarly, Sky, Red Lion, 10x10, Father Time, Muscles, N Da Wind, Giggles, Ezra, Kalamity Kate, Stone Skipper, Ten Sticks, Boofer (Jess' namer), Night Moves (Julia's namer, formerly One Step), Basher, Zuma, Blow-Job Carney, Oden, Heather, and it gets really hard to remember these names, especially if you haven't seen them in a while, so any 09ers who come across this and are sad that Graveyard didn't think to mention them remember I have the memory of a dead rat!

The Phlo, Graveyard, DizzyBat, DugOut, and Einstein (Jess, Julia, Liz, Marc, and Einstein the dog) set out from Damascus after Trail Days together, trying to hitch-hike back to Hampton, largely so we could see Laurel Fork Falls (otherwise we probably would have hiked out of Damascus so as to keep up with the above list, who mostly had arrived at Trail Days by foot). We got an offer for a ride to Mountain City, 1/3 of the way to Hampton (which is an hour from Damascus by car). She stopped at a random road halfway to Mountain City, saying that she had groceries and couldn't take us the next 6 miles, but that we were sure to get a hitch. An hour and a half later, the sun was setting, and we were still dancing for every pick-up truck that blared by. One honked, waved, and turned down the wrong road (actually, most of them seemed to get a kick out of waving and honking, especially if they were going the way we needed to go - which I don't understand because we were clearly stranded in the middle of nowhere). About 20 minutes later, he came back. He was a super friendly guy named Max, who couldn't take us to Mountain City tonight, but he could tomorrow, and if we'd like we could come stay at his cabin on his beef farm. Small miracles never cease to amaze me. So the five of us hop into his pickup truck, Dizzy & I in front & the 3 boys in back. Max drives us up onto his property, touring us around, telling me & Dizzy a million stories about anything and everything, and shows us amazing view after amazing view, finally pulling us up next to an old, dilapidated, rusted out bus he calls "The Magic Bus" at the top of his tallest hill with an incredible panoramic sunset spilling in every direction in front of us (meanwhile Dugout & Phlo have no idea whats going on, and are kind of freaked about this pickup ambling around on a roadless field - but the man knows his farm), then drives us down the hill into a small valley, hidden from the world, with a little cabin with a woodstove (and wouldn't you know it was below freezing for the first time in a month that night?).

I am not kidding you. This is real. We were absolutely blown away. And the next day, when Max brought us coffee and invited us to stay another night, we jumped on the offer. We spent the day wandering around amongst cows and donkeys and horses, playing fetch with Einstein, dunking our heads in the water trough from the spring up the hill. Max had promised he would hang out with us that night, but he was a no-show till 2:30 am, when we were already in bed. The next day, when Max brought us coffee and sausage gravey and biscuits, he told us it was because a friend of his had rolled in his tractor (lucky to be alive!) and he had been with him in the hospital all day and into the night, finally coming to check on us because we were stranded in the middle of his farm with no idea of where we were and no resources but our packs and spring water. Not a situation we were unused to lol, but his concern was much appreciated. But, because of the accident, he hadn't gotten any work done the day before, so had to spend that day catching up, so he didn't have time to take us to Mountain City. Oh no! Another day on the farm, how sad. HaHA! The next day, when he heard us debating how best to pull off the hitch from Mountain City to Hampton, a resupply, and showers, he brought us to his house for showers, to the local grocery for a resupply, and all the way to Hampton. MAX IS AWESOME:)

I should note that the 3 days we spent at Max's was about how long it would take to get from Hampton to Damascus, so we debated just going back to Damascus, eventually putting our options in a hat and picking one at random (call it the Trail's will), and we picked Hampton.

We 5 hiked on, Laurel Fork Falls was beautiful. We got as far as Watauga Lake, on Memorial Day weekend, so we were surrounded by grilling burgers. Sad (from feeling like we were backwards, not forwards) and starved, we were understandably blown away when a Mt Rogers van pulled up right in front of us, with an offer to shuttle us for free to a country restaurant. Note: Mt. Rogers Outfitters is located in Damascus. Wasn't a hard decision, really, since we could go with him for free back to Damascus, as he had to go back there that night anyway.

Another 3 nights in Damascus later, we were really sick of towns. Example: Dizzy and Dug were staying in the only dog-friendly place in town, and we were quietly (yes, we were really being quiet) hanging out with them on the back porch (we were staying at a cheaper location). Phlo and I were sharing a beer, Dizzy and Dug and some other guests had a few of their own, and the owner asked us to leave because it was a rule that non guests couldn't drink on her property, and proceeded to scold Dizzy, Dug, and the other guests that we didn't even know prior to this for disobeying her rules. Which she had never told any of them, nor was it posted on the list of rules outside the house. Peace out Damascus, thanks for Trail Days, and could you please tone down the hostility next year? I mean, the people are great, but the cops were intrusive and unhelpful... Red Lion stepped on a whittled stick that went through his sandel into his foot, and laid there in pain until a friend found him and hobbled him over to the police station... and it took an hour for any help to arrive. That's the story anyway, haven't heard it from his mouth. Meanwhile, there are cops roving through campsites asking to see wristbands to make sure everyone had paid for their campsite. Interesting method to "serve and protect". I guess they were "serving and protecting" the landowner...oh wait... it was a public park.... I guess they were just "serving and protecting" themselves... especially since the whole Damascus police staff recently got replaced, as the last bunch was caught for making and dealing Crystal Meth.

Anyway.

Stone Skipper (Jen) caught up with us at this point (she had gone back to Erwin), and we six (don't forget the dog!) hiked on. It rained and we all got freezing cold for the first time in a long while, especially my soaking wet, rain jacket-less self. The next day we met up with Lorri/Mom and Rob (Jess's brother), who had driven down so that Rob could see Jess (and me) before taking off for his job in Colorado in a few weeks, at Grayson Highlands, which was an absolutely beautiful area full of ponies that bug you for food. Despite the fact that I had just been freezing the night before, I gave up my winter gear, as she had brought me back my rain jacket and hat:) She also brought six sandwiches with fresh bread and tomatoes and ham and cheese and deliciousness without even knowing we'd have a Tribe with us (Max has named us the Bad News Bears by the way), and she happily gave them out to the hungry hikers, keeping nothing for herself. The next day was Dugout's birthday, so we were trying to figure out some way to get all six of us to Marion, the closest big town. Lorri/Mom went above and beyond, ferrying Dugout, DizzyBat, Einstien, and Stone Skipper up to Marion and coming back for Rob, Phlo, and myself (also Zoe, the Rumburg's dog), half hour each way. THANK YOU!!!

Dugout's birthday was a happy one. DizzyBat has a wedding to fly to from DC at the end of June, so, sadly, it appears the Tribe is going to be separated again as they are thinking about yellow-blazing up to Bland or Pearisburg so that they don't have to average 18 miles a day to make it to Front Royal, where she thinks she has a ride. We will be hiking on from here with Stone Skipper still, and we hope that we've yellow-blazed enough that we may have caught Gnarly, Moe!, and other assorted faces that we miss. We are entering the green tunnel - seeing the pictures that are posted on WalMart's site reminded me of what we used to see, 'cause we're sure not seeing that anymore. The forest has come alive, and as the ridgeline through Virginia is supposedly relatively easy (compared to the Smokies or the Whites anyway), so we're hoping to crank up the miles to 15-20 per day. Roanoke is 200 miles away, where we will be visiting the Rumburg family. The Aqua Blaze is approximately 300 miles away, and is slowly coming together. We have Manner's approval, and an offer for a canoe shuttle. Just need to get the timing ironed out, but we won't be too sure about that till we know how fast we can hike this ridge. By the next post, we'll have set a date, and if we don't get there by white blaze, we'll just have to get there by yellow. Or blue.

Peace & Love to all.

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.