“To be elated at success and disappointed at failure is to be the child of circumstances; how can such a one be called master of himself?” – Chinese Proverb

“Nothing gives one person so much advantage over another as to remain always cool and unruffled under all circumstances.” – Thomas Jefferson

Day 112

After our incredible time together, Janet drove me back to the trailhead near Slatington. It was tough and emotional to say goodbye again, but I told her I loved her and would think about her every day until I see her again in Maine. She told me she loved me and would pray for me every day. We then hugged and kissed and I headed out over the bridge.

My sadness transitioned to bewilderment as I stared up at the climb out of Lehigh Gap that was ahead. The task was to climb 1000+ feet up the steep rockslide known as Blue Mountain, often going hand over hand. It was easily the most challenging rock scramble on the AT thus far, but it was also one of the most fun. I was glad the weather was clear, that I had long legs, and that my footing held on each precarious step.

From 1898-1980 the zinc mining industry took a heavy environmental toll on Palmerton, Blue Mountain, and the surrounding area. The New Jersey Zinc Company, our nation’s largest producer of zinc, left 33 million tons of slag (rocky waste) as a byproduct of their mining operations. The smelting operations also released heavy metals into the air and water, killing 2000 acres of vegetation on Blue Mountain and contaminating the Lehigh River and Aquashicola Creek. The Environmental Protection Agency added Palmerton to its National Priorities List in 1983 and since then there has been a concerted effort to grade and revegetate the land and clean the water and residences. As I climbed up and along Blue Mountain, I could tell it had taken a beating, but I was also impressed with the obvious effort underway to bring it back. Just to be on the safe side, I brought an extra bottle of Gatorade to avoid having to filter water from this area.

After summiting Blue Mountain, I continued along its mostly flat ridge for a few miles. At mile 1262.1, Little Gap Road, two former thru-hikers, Flapjack and Tunes, were under a canopy giving out Trail Magic! I was surprised to see a hiker named Black Bear sitting there. I shared a shelter with him a couple of months ago and know that he routinely does 20+ mile days. I’m going at a much more leisurely pace so it made no sense for us both to be in the same location. It turns out he got a severe back infection and had to get off the trail, rest and heal for two weeks and was now back at it. I also met Scarecrow, Hot Toddy, and Terodactyle. After having a cheese sandwich, some fruit and topping off my water from their water jugs, I thanked them and hiked on.

As I climbed out of Little Gap, a light rain began to fall. It made the rocks slippery but felt quite refreshing. I don’t like setting up or breaking down camp in the rain, but don’t mind hiking in it unless there is lightning.

A little later I passed a monument to Monmouth Air Flight 98. On October 24, 1971 a Beechcraft 99 crashed at this location, killing both pilots and two of the six passengers. The accident report concluded the pilot executed a nonprecision instrument approach in instrument flight conditions. The report also stated the pilots’ extensive on-duty time and resulting fatigue likely affected their judgement and decisions during the approach.

Late in the afternoon, the rain stopped but it was still overcast and dark in the woods. I stopped and relieved myself on a tree and then sat down to take a break and drink some water. About 20 minutes after resuming my hike, I saw Black Bear heading towards me. He said, “Fob, what are you doing?” “Hiking to Maine,” I answered. “Not in that direction,” he replied. “You’re going southbound!” I have read of hikers doing this before but never imagined doing it myself. Apparently during my last water break, I wasn’t paying close enough attention and headed out the wrong way. In a dark section of forest that all looks pretty similar, I just never realized my mistake. I thanked him for helping me out and mentally wrote “stupid” on my forehead before turning northbound and continuing my journey.

After this 40 minute mistake and a 10.2 mile day, I stealth camped near the intersection of the AT and the Delps Trail. I had only been away from my wife for six hours and was already missing her. I also thought about fatigue-induced errors and their consequences. My earlier error had cost me 40 minutes of time and unnecessarily hiking an extra 1.5 miles. The Monmouth Flight 98 pilots’ error, near the same spot as mine and for the same basic reason, had cost them their lives.

Day 113

Today was characterized by 16.8 miles of hot weather, endless rocks, two little snakes, and one deer. I felt fatigued throughout the day and saw very few other hikers on the trail in either direction. At various points I felt like a zombie, mentally checked out and just mindlessly churning ahead like a sweaty robot stuck on autopilot. It was that rare day on the AT that was void of fun. Some days on the trail are just like that. A bright spot was some unattended Trail Magic at Wind Gap, featuring several bottles of water and a container full of dehydrated food.

As I took off my socks that evening and stretched out in my tent on my air mattress, I noticed my first ever visible bruise on the bottom of my foot. The relentless pounding of the rocks all week long had left me battered and a little bruised. I was ready to be out of Pennsylvania and in ten miles I would be.

Fob

“Today, this hour, this minute is the day, the hour, the minute for each of us to sense the fact that life is good, with all of its trials and troubles, and perhaps more interesting because of them.” – Robert J. Updegraff

“Each of us makes his own weather, determines the color of the skies in the emotional universe which he inhabits.” – Fulton J. Sheen

Day 95

Just a few miles into my morning hike I reached Washington Monument State Park. The 34-foot tall Washington Monument tower, listed on the National Register of Historic Places, honors our nation’s founding father and first President. It was also used as a signal station by Union forces during the Civil War. I climbed to the top for a terrific 360 degree view. As I hiked down Monument Knob, I met a hiker aptly named Trouble heading southbound. His backpack was busted wide open and, sadly, he was returning to Harpers Ferry to get a new one. At mile 1045.3 I crossed the I-70 footbridge and then US 40.

The temperature continued to climb throughout the day, as did the humidity. I was sweating as profusely as I can ever remember, and there weren’t even any major hills to climb. Then the gnats came, first a few and then in swarms. It became obvious to me that ear sweat is crack cocaine for gnats, and I was the AT’s biggest dealer. For the first time on my journey, I donned my head net and watched the flying pests circle my head in frustration.

After a 20.2 mile day I stealth camped at mile 1060.5. I checked the weather forecast and saw that heavy rain was to begin around midnight and continue throughout the morning. Rather than break camp in a downpour, I decided to just sleep in.

Day 96

As expected, it rained much of the night and into the morning. I slept in and finally broke camp to clear skies at 11:15 a.m. A few miles into my day, I arrived at Pen Mar County Park. I glanced over at a pavilion and saw there was Trail Magic! Yes, some dear ladies and children from a local Methodist church were providing sandwiches, fruit, and drinks to us weary hikers. It’s interesting that I got trail magic (on the trail) twice in Maryland (40 AT miles), which is the same number of times I got it in all of Virginia (550 AT miles). The only negative at this stop was a rude park employee who was giving them a hard time for setting up there, even though no one was using it and there was only a handful of people in the park. Come on, man!

Shortly after exiting the park, I crossed some railroad tracks and reached the Pennsylvania border and the Mason Dixon line! I’m anxious to see how trail towns, trail magic, and people in general differ in the northern AT states. It didn’t take long to find out. Just 2.6 miles into Pennsylvania, at the crossing for PA 16, there was a cooler full of cold sodas and a box full of bags of chips. As I sat there eating Cheetos and drinking a Mountain Dew, it occurred to me that this was Pennsylvania’s way of saying, “I’m about to rip your feet and shoes to shreds with miles and miles of sharp rocks, so go ahead and have a soda and snack on me.” Then it occurred to me that states don’t actually talk.

Late in the day, at mile 1072.3, I stopped at the crowded, popular, side-by-side Tumbling Run Shelters. I saw a few familiar faces, including Brief Thief, along with several section hiking teenagers. The caretakers for the shelter were there talking to hikers and giving out cold, Trail Magic sodas! They live nearby and have been checking on and maintaining these shelters for more than twenty-five years. I got water at the stream that runs by the shelter. As I sat there on a rock, a crayfish surfaced, climbed a few inches on the small rock next to me, looked over at me, and then headed back into the water to tell his family about a Fob sighting. He would have been good boiled with hot sauce.

Since the shelters and surrounding tent sites were pretty crowded, I hiked on up the hill towards Chimney Rocks. About halfway up the hill, as I planted my foot on a rock, I slipped and fell on my side. This was my first fall on the actual AT with backpack on and trekking poles in use. Fortunately, I didn’t injure anything. I just got back up, called myself an “idiot” in my Napoleon Dynamite voice, and kept climbing.

Up at Chimney Rocks, mile 1073.6, I set up my tent after a 13.1 mile day. I hung my bear bag and then crawled into my tent at 8 p.m. At 8:40 p.m. heavy rain began to fall and was projected to last until mid-morning.

Day 97

After the Bible, the two books which have had the greatest impact on my life are Crazy Love by Francis Chan and The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People by the late Stephen Covey. I’ve read Covey’s book many times and have even incorporated it into a high school Leadership class I used to teach. For some reason, I just connect with the principles in the book and find them highly practical in everyday life. I have also found them useful out here on the AT.

Habit 2 is to Begin With the End in Mind. Whether you are starting a career, building an engine, or baking a cake, you start by visualizing what you want it to look like at the end. I illustrated this to my class by having them work together on a 1000-piece puzzle without looking at the picture on the box. It’s not very motivating sorting through puzzle pieces for hours when you don’t know what you’re making. Once the picture on the box is revealed, the students gain focus and intensity because they know what they’re working toward.

Covey also suggests closing your eyes and imagining being at a funeral. You look around and see your family, friends, coaches, co-workers, etc. You then realize it’s your own funeral. As each of them takes the podium to speak about you, what do you want them to say? Given that, how do you need to live your life now in order for them to be able to say those things one day? That’s beginning (even starting today!) with the end (of your earthly life) in mind.

This principle plays out in at least two important ways on the AT. At the macro level, I have envisioned what it will be like to summit Katahdin and earn the thru-hiker title over and over again. That final prize is very motivating so I keep it in the forefront of my mind and think about it often. With that vision of the end firmly in place, I can work backwards to plan my rough timeline, gear that I’ll need, and many other things.

At the micro level, I begin each day with the projected end of the day in mind. If I want to get to x location, when do I need to depart? How much water will I need and where will I find it? Do I need to hit a trail town to resupply? Having a projected target in mind is more motivating to me than just hiking out in the morning with no plan.

My target today…the end that I had in mind…was Caledonia State Park. It had several things going for it, including a public swimming pool, concessions stand, bathrooms, water source, etc. Focusing on it would make my 97th day of hiking more purposeful. I once again got a late start due to rain, but was on the trail by 10:00 a.m. It took me a little under four hours to make the soggy 8.7 mile journey to the park.

With a thunderstorm approaching, I arrived at the park just in time to hear the lifeguards blow the whistle to clear the pool. There would be swimming for Fob this day. Outside the concession stand, several hikers were already seated and devouring lunch. I met Count, Doc, Patches, Boss, and Sam Squanch. Boss and Sam Squanch are a 20-something adorable girlfriend-boyfriend team from the United Kingdom. I absolutely love their accents and would be very content just listening to them read a phone book out loud.

After ordering my cheeseburger, hot dog, French fries, and Mountain Dew, there was a long thunder roll and a heavy rain began to fall. The lady running the concession stand said, “We’re hiker friendly here. You all come on in to stay dry.” God bless her soul! We all entered the side door with our gear and food and spread out on the floor and some chairs. I was seated next to the ice cream freezer and ordered a large one after finishing off my food. As the rain continued to fall, we sat around getting to know each other and just enjoying the moment. After about an hour Tyler, the cook, told us it was time to close the grill and he had several hot dogs left over. “Do you want them?,” he asked. In unison we answered, “Yes!” and divided them amongst ourselves.

The rain eventually stopped and I made my way over to the swimming pool bathrooms to freshen up. There were several lifeguards walking around in red Baywatch swimsuits which was a little overwhelming for a guy who has been living in the woods for three months. After getting water, I got back on the trail heading north. I stopped by the nice, but crowded, Quarry Gap Shelters and visited with Tree Beard, Waterfall, and Training Wheels. A few miles later, after a 15.5 mile day, I stopped at the Three Points campsite, mile 1089.1. I set up my tent and ate some tortillas with pepperoni and Swiss cheese. Just after getting into my tent, the rain once again began to fall.

The day didn’t turn out exactly like I had planned it. The final puzzle didn’t match the picture on the box. There was no basking in the sun after a refreshing dip in the pool. And yet, eating leftover hot dogs and ice cream with other stinking hikers in a concession stand kitchen during a torrential downpour will always be a great, great memory. In fact, looking back now, I’d say it was even better than the picture on the box.

Fob

“Connecting with the wilderness allows us to live in the flow of a meaningful, joyful life. Embracing this state of connectedness or oneness with other living beings including animals, as opposed to feeling an “otherness” or “separateness” brings a sense of harmony and enables us to be at peace with oneself and the world.” – Sylvia Dolson

Day 87

After enjoying a final cup of coffee at the Lewis Mountain Campground store, I hopped back on the trail and headed north. As I descended Hazeltop near mile 919.5, I saw the first of more than a dozen deer I would see in Shenandoah National Park (SNP).

As I approached the Big Meadows area, I saw another deer sitting in the grass off to the right. I decided to stop for a snack, so I sat down by a tree about fifteen yards from her. She looked at me but didn’t move. I chugged some water and then pulled out a Clif energy bar. As I did so, the deer stood up and stared at me. She had that “Fob, I want a bite of your Clif energy bar” look in her sultry eyes. Then she cautiously took a step toward me. With my heart racing just a tad, I pulled out my phone and started recording her. Next, I violated the principle of “keeping wildlife wild” by holding out my Clif bar. Intrigued, she took another step toward me and then another. At this point I should have stood up and left. After all, she should eat natural food. She should fear humans. She could get spooked and injure me or maybe get a disease. My head told me this maybe wasn’t a good idea. My heart told me it was a once in a lifetime opportunity and I should go for it.

My heart won out. I wiggled the Clif bar and she kept moving closer. Just a couple of feet from me, she stuck out her neck and licked the bar. I didn’t have a good grip on it and it fell, causing her to jump back a step. Continuing to film, I picked it up and held it out again. She approached and gave it a few more licks. She was so close I could almost smell her breath. She then decided it wasn’t for her. Or maybe she smelled my breath. Clif bars are nutritious and delicious, but they require a lot of chewing to get down. Perhaps she wasn’t up for that. She eventually slowly walked away. It was a really cool wilderness moment that I will never forget. It wasn’t necessarily the right/textbook thing to do, but it was certainly the fun, cool, and memorable thing to do. I won’t do it again because I’ve done it once. But would I do it again a first time? Absolutely! How often can you live a happy, magical moment that you will remember the rest of your life?

Fresh off this wildlife encounter, I took a short side trail to the Big Meadows Lodge where I had a Caesar’s salad and seven glasses of pink lemonade. Why? Because I could. This is SNP, the second happiest place on earth…just behind Disney World. I hiked on, passing two more deer and a small snake (#11) near Fishers Gap.

After 16.7 miles I arrived at the Skyland Resort and Restaurant around 4:30 p.m. This is a fairly upscale place so I assumed a room would be out of my price range. But since I was close, it was worth a shot. The normal price was well out of my range. The “thru-hiker rate” was substantially less, but still more than I wanted to pay. Then I thought to ask if they had a military rate. Bam! Bada-Bing! It was even less than the hiker rate and within my fair and reasonable range. So I got a 1-room cabin and took a nice hot shower.

I put on my less funky set of clothes and headed to the Skyland Restaurant for the fried chicken basket (1807 calories, according to the menu) which included half a fried chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, cranberry relish, and steamed cauliflower. The waitress brought me the dessert menu and I selected three large scoops of ice cream…vanilla bean, chocolate, and signature blackberry…coming in at 1026 calories. As I swallowed the last bite of ice cream, a guitarist took the stage and sang and played for the next couple of hours. He asked the audience where we were from. I didn’t answer because I don’t know. It’s complicated. I’m just an American. He then asked the thirty audience members…day hikers, vacationers and me…who had seen a bear this week. Every single hand went up but mine. This hardly seemed fair.

As I laid there that night in my soft cabin bed, I reflected on my near perfect day. Where in the world do you have a close encounter with a deer, a Caesar salad with lemonade, a fried chicken dinner, three scoops of ice cream, live music, a hot shower, and a soft pillow and bed to sleep on? At Shenandoah National Park, I say, the second happiest place on earth.

Fob

It’s Lil Jan here and it’s time for my update on how things are going for me while my crazy husband is out walking every day for 6 months! My last blog left off with my anticipation of meeting Steve for the 1st time since he had been gone, about 6 weeks. Of course, I was very excited to pick him up and had butterflies in my stomach in anticipation…will he remember me? will I recognize him? will he smell REALLY bad? what will we talk about? will he like my yellow dress? So many things to consider! So I left Union SC early that morning and headed North to meet my mountain man. Beautiful weather, beautiful mountain scenery and then a much-needed, beautiful reunion! I’ll spare you all the mushy details and just say…he definitely remembered me; he looked the same only hairier and slimmer, he actually didn’t smell too bad because he had rinsed off, brushed his teeth and changed his shirt in the bathroom before I arrived; we found LOTS to talk about; and I’m pretty sure he liked my yellow dress! Other details can be read in his blog #29.

After 3 days of blissful reunion, the time came for me to return Steve  (Fob) back to the trail. My mom and dad and sister and husband joined us for a brief hello and goodbye as they were making their way to visit my other sister in Bristol, VA. It was good for us all to lay eyes on him to convince us that he is actually doing pretty well at this hiking thing! I drove away with a few tears in my eyes, prayers on my lips, and love in my heart and headed to Birmingham, AL to stay for the next few weeks. I had lots of activities planned while I was there and I was very excited to spend some quality time with my dear friends, The Diamonds and The Genrys.

God has given me many blessings in my life and one of those blessings is having friends that no matter how far away you are from them or how long it’s been since you’ve seen them, when you get together again it’s just like you’ve never been apart! The Diamonds are those kind of friends! Our paths first crossed when our families moved to Florida the same summer back in 2008. Despite the fact that they had girls several years younger than our boys, they homeschooled their kids, and unlike us were very much an “artsy” family, we quickly developed a bond that I would consider as close as family! I love them to my core and I was excited to be able to spend the next month with them and share in one of the most wonderful events…the marriage of my youngest son, Kyle. Not only were they letting me camp out in their basement for over a month, they housed & fed all 9 groomsmen for the wedding weekend. Now that’s great friends!

While I was there I was also able to see the girls (Carolyn, Mary Brook & Ann Marie) in the musical, Tartuffe. All three girls had large parts and did a fabulous job! The next week I was able to hear Jenny’s choir concert that she led for the girls’ homeschool group. I was also in town for Carolyn’s graduation. She’s got big dreams and I know God has great plans for her as well. One of the many things I love about being with the Diamonds is that there is always music going on somewhere. It may be upstairs in Ann Marie’s room as she listens and sings to the radio. It may be on the keyboard in the hallway as Mary Brook is learning a new song. It may be in the basement as Carolyn is creating a new dance routine. It may be Brad or Jenny singing whatever song pops in their heads. It very well could be all three girls singing songs from “Phantom of the Opera” or “Wicked” or “Into the Woods” in perfect harmony at the top of their lungs. Or even better, it might possibly be all of those at the same time! It is truly a wonderful thing to witness!

Birmingham is also the home place of my son, Kyle’s, new wife. Her family is another blessing in my life. Even though we haven’t known each other but a couple of years, they are just the kind of people that make you feel right at home! It was great to be able to hang out with them, worship with them, play games with them and of course, celebrate the joining of our two kids! Laci’s mom, Tami, graciously involved me in many of the wedding details which I thoroughly enjoyed and was happy to be there to help her finalize things. Tami & Tim had worked hard to make the day so special and all their hard work paid off! It was truly a blessed and beautiful day! More on that later.

After I had been in Birmingham for a few days, the Genrys and I headed to Harding University in Searcy, AR for the graduation of Kyle and Laci. We were all very excited to see the kids and be together again since it had been awhile since we had seen them. Jason and Rachel, my oldest son and his wife, were also coming in so it was going to a great family weekend…except one LARGE part of our family was not going to be present. Sir FOB wasn’t coming off the trail for graduation since he was going to come off the trail the following week for the wedding. His presence was certainly missed, but I think it was harder on him than us since we were all together.

As I’m counting my blessings in this blog, I have to put my two sons high on the list…right after God and FOB! They have both brought so much joy to my life and I pray that we all have many years of joy and blessings together and now I have two daughters to bring even more joy and blessings! As graduations go, Harding’s ceremonies are always uplifting to attend. As I stated in my last blog, I love going to Harding for whatever reason. It’s just my little slice of Heaven on Earth. The day after graduation was Mother’s Day and it was wonderful to be able to spend it in worship with my kids and of course, a big Mother’s Day dinner. I haven’t had both of my boys with me for Mother’s Day in several years, so this was a great treat. Once lunch was over, Kyle and I headed back to Birmingham in his car to start the Wedding Week activities. The 7 hour car ride was a great opportunity for us to catch up on all that’s been going on with him, his future job plans, his thoughts on the wedding and marriage, and of course for those of you that know Kyle, some deep, religious musings!

After we got back to Birmingham, the next big news was that Steve surprised us and came into town a day early! He had had a rough week of weather and was ready to be back amongst his family and friends living a “normal” lifestyle (like bathing every day and sleeping in a bed!) I was very happy to have him back with me and was as content as a pig in a mud hole, especially once Jason and Rachel arrived because then my family unit was all together again in one place! That puts a smile on my face anytime!

So the wedding weekend finally came around and I was so happy to have my parents, siblings, nieces and nephews from both sides of the family in attendance, along with friends from all over. We couldn’t have asked for better weather for an outside wedding and everything was just perfect! God was certainly smiling down on us all as he witnessed this blessed union. The bride and groom were so happy and I pray that they will always remember how much love was felt by all that were in attendance on that day. You can read more and see more pictures on FOB’s blog #40, if you’re interested.

Once the wedding festivities were over, then I had to face the fact that in one more day, I’d be living the single life again. It was time for my mountain man to head back to the mountains. I knew he was getting antsy to be back on the trail, but he was also sad to have to leave me again. We didn’t have a set plan for our next rendezvous, but we knew it was going to be at least 6 weeks or so. As I’ve said before, being apart from one another is not something we look forward to, but in order for him to accomplish this “bucket list” item, he’s got to move on. He knows that I am with him in spirit and that I’m praying and thinking about him constantly and I’m know he’s doing the same for me.

I planned to stay in Birmingham for another week and a half so that I could see Kyle and Laci when they returned from their honeymoon. They had a great time visiting the Seattle, Washington area and I was glad to spend one more night with them before I headed back to South Carolina.

Before I sign off, I would be remiss not to mention the blessings of being able to spend time with my parents and sister and husband while Steve has been gone. I know that I will treasure the memories of this time here with them and I hope that I’ve brought some joy to them by me being here. I have been truly blessed by two wonderful, God-fearing parents that have raised me to know and appreciate the love of our Heavenly Father. My older sister, Carol, and her husband, Scott, have been so wonderful to let me call their home my home for a while. I was also able to spend some time with each of their daughters, Summer and Dana, which was a treat as well. While I’ve been here, I’ve developed a new hobby…adult coloring books…the newest craze. Carol and I usually start our day with a cup of coffee, a coloring book and gel pens! It’s really not just for kids anymore and it’s great mental therapy, just like the experts profess it to be!

So, what happened next? I left for Virginia and spent a few days there with my friends Chuck and Jana (yet again another blessing). We lived in Virginia while Steve was stationed at the Pentagon and it was great to see some old friends from our time there.  I then headed to Slatington, Pennsylvania, to pick up my crazy, hiking mountain man!  We’re staying in Kempton at a nice Bed & Breakfast for three days to catch up and bask in each other’s love…and the blessings just keep coming!

God bless,
Lil Jan

“Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper, but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy.”     –  Proverbs 28:13

“In one long glorious acknowledgement of failure, he laid himself bare before God.” – John Grisham, The Testament

Day 79

With the taste of leftover Boy Scout spaghetti still lingering in my mouth, I broke camp and headed north. At mile 818.2 I crossed the north fork of the Piney River, an area one hiker accurately described as a Yoda marsh. Described, he did.

I was initially surprised by the large number of day hikers on the trail today, and then I remembered it was Memorial Day weekend. I spoke with several of these clean, smiling people with Fannie packs and answered several questions about my hike. I also passed most of them on the uphills. This provided a small boost to my ego which had taken a hit earlier in my journey when I was passed by a woman and her wiener dog. Along with thirty other people, I stopped and scrambled up the scenic Sky Rock at mile 822.8.

By mid-afternoon the rain started to fall. Rather than take on Virginia’s steepest descent in the rain, I ended my 14.3 mile day at The Priest Shelter atop Priest Mountain. I was joined in and around the shelter by an assortment of hikers, including Hawaii, Clancy and his dog Findley, Spaghetti Legs, Gamel, and Pantry. The Priest is one of the more famous shelters along the AT because it is a tradition for hikers to write confessions to The Priest in the shelter log book. As the rain fell, I blew up my air mattress in the shelter, got out of my wet clothes, and began nibbling on and sharing the dried, salted green peas I’d purchased from the Amish Cupboard in Buena Vista. I started to wish there was an Amish Cupboard near my house, and then I remembered my house is on wheels and I can drive and live near an Amish store whenever I want.

I spent the next hour reading confessions from the log and writing several of my own. Other hikers confessed to things like…

– Not digging their cat holes 6 inches deep
– Getting another hiker’s Nalgene “pee bottle” out of a hiker box and using it as their drinking bottle for a month
– Not liking certain other hikers…even hiding in the woods to avoid them
– Not believing in God
– Not having showered or brushed their teeth in several weeks

I added my own dozen confessions, including…

– Attempting to smell southbound women hikers as they pass by just in case they’re wearing perfume
– Never having voted for a Democrat, or anyone pro-choice, my entire life (actually proud of that)
– Fishing without a license in various states along the AT
– The only time I can recall cheating on a test was a music test in 8th grade at Caesar Rodney Junior High School. One of the questions was a series of musical notes written on the chalkboard, and we had to figure out the song. While the teacher stepped out of the room for a second, a fellow student hummed the tune and that gave me the answer. That’s bothered me since 1978. I’m letting it go now.

Later that evening, I had a good chat with Hawaii, a mid-20s guy from…well, you can figure it out. We began by torturing ourselves by naming the food we most crave. His number one craving was duck, a food introduced to him by his Chinese girlfriend. I went with the Victoria’s Filet Mignon at Outback with the horseradish crust on it…with a Blooming Onion, bread and butter, a loaded baked potato, and salad. I’m counting that as one item…deal with it. We also discussed why, according to him, older people tend to complete the AT at a higher success rate than the younger, fitter crowd. His theory, and experience from hiking with many in their 20s, is that there are 3 main reasons:

1. Younger hikers tend to let their egos go wild and make unwise decisions about mileage, causing injury. They go for too many miles, too soon, and their bodies don’t play along. Older, wiser hikers generally have aged, less fit bodies to work with, and yet they know how to get more out of them without injury.

2. Younger hikers tend to run out of money, and that is often the result of vast sums of money spent on beer in trail towns.

3. Many (but not all) younger hikers begin the trail not having experienced many hardships in life. They may not have experienced the kind of physical and emotional challenges (serving in combat, dealing with loss or loneliness, etc.) that harden and toughen those who have. While I agree with Hawaii’s perspective on this, there are certainly exceptions. I have met millennials out here who are as tough as nails, having survived domestic violence, horrific war wounds to the face, and other hardships much more daunting than anything I’ve been through.

As I laid there in the shelter with rain falling outside, I thought of a few more confessions I should have made. I relieved myself too close to Ottie Cline Powell’s memorial, and for that I am truly sorry. I also might have loudly spoke an inappropriate word when I landed on my back and elbow at Dismal Falls.

Before dozing off to sleep, I coughed up a dried, salted Amish green pea onto Hawaii’s air mattress. I must confess to reaching over, picking it up, putting it back in my mouth, chewing it some more, an then re-swallowing it. I’m not proud of what I did, but when it comes to confessions, I guess we rarely are.

Fob

“Therefore let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall.” – 1 Corinthians 10:12

“The righteous person may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all.” – Psalm 34:19

Day 57

Today was the first of two consecutive not especially good days on the AT. Some days are just like that. When you hit a wall, physically and/or emotionally, you just have to grind it out and keep your head up.

Just a couple of miles into the morning hike, I took a side trail .3 miles west to check out the beautiful Dismal Falls. The scenic waterfall and the surrounding campsites may very well be the best water-based place to camp on the AT thus far. On my way to the falls I saw Dawn, aka Slim Rim, hiking out and we chatted briefly. At the falls I had the place to myself. I set my pack and trekking pokes down, ate a snack, took some pictures and video, took care of some business, and then decided to check out the place. Specifically, I wanted to walk along the edge of the water and look for fish. And that’s when it happened. As I nonchalantly walked around some large, wet, flat rocks, not really paying attention, my feet slipped out from under me and I went airborne, landing flat on my back! Actually, my back, butt, and right elbow all hit at the same time, with my elbow bearing the brunt of it. I was in immense pain and was somehow embarrassed, even though no one else was around. It was my first fall on the AT, at mile 610, and it happened on a side excursion with my backpack off. I felt very thankful that I didn’t crack my skull. If I had, instead of my blog, you might be reading my Fobituary.

I gathered myself, felt around for damage (bruised elbow, muddy shorts, dislocated ego), and then continued northward. It was an overcast day, with occasional showers, and I walked alongside various streams and crossed bridges throughout the day. In the afternoon my feet started to ache all over. They became especially sensitive to stepping on sharp rocks, which happens hundreds of times throughout a typical day. On top of that, the elbow pain from my fall worsened and I wasn’t able to push off on my right trekking pole during climbs. As a hiker who relies heavily on forearms and trekking poles for power and balance during climbs, this is a problem. I felt like someone had popped me in the elbow with a hammer.

On top of of the physical pain that afternoon, I felt really sad that I was missing my son Kyle’s and future daughter-in-law Laci’s college graduation. Realistically, to hike the trail I had to choose between their graduation today or their wedding the following weekend and the wedding won out. Although they understood and supported that decision, I felt terrible about it. They had both had such remarkable college experiences. It’s one of those family sacrifices you have to make to hike the AT, and emotionally it hit me pretty hard. Exhausted, bummed, and in foot and elbow pain, I had simply had enough and just stopped in my tracks. Time to set up camp. It had been a tough 17.1 mile day, mentally and physically. As I sat there cooking Chili Mac, Dawn and then later Conductor and Whistler (aka Mowgli) passed by and asked how I was doing. I said, “Fine, thanks.” I lied.

Day 58

“My life before the trail was often a bit white-washed, as if someone had trimmed the peaks and valleys from each day. The trail has brought a vivid color back to each day, both in good and bad ways. The reality is that you can’t have the highs without the lows out here.” – Slice, aspiring 2016 thru-hiker

It was a restless night of sleep because I’m a side sleeper and every time I rolled onto my right elbow the pain woke me up. As I crawled out of my tent that morning to retrieve my bear bag, pain shot through both of my feet. It was the sorest I ever remember them being. I brought my food bag back into my tent, ate a pop tart, and sat there rubbing my feet. I then remembered that it was Mothers Day, the first one since my dear mother passed away. I’m not much of a crier (ENTJs tend not to be all that emotionally expressive) but I laid back on my air mattress and had my first good long AT cry. It was a combination of thinking about mom, missing my wife, missing graduation, nursing an injured elbow, and dealing with foot pain that made it difficult to take even a step. Of my 58 days on the AT so far, I had reached my lowest point. I took a few Advil, poured out my heart to God, and then wrote a poem for my mom.  Writing has always been therapeutic to me as it allows me to unscramble and process my thoughts and emotions.  Prayer has a similar effect because I know God knows my heart and struggles and is ready to give me whatever I need to get through the day.

I eventually pulled myself together and counted my blessings. I am an immensely blessed person and I wouldn’t trade lives with anyone. Still, just like the AT, life has its peaks and valleys and I was in a temporary valley. I thought about people and families I know courageously dealing with cancer and brain injuries and other things far worse than the sadness and foot pain I was experiencing. I realized I simply needed a break from the trail and, fortunately, a break was coming! All I needed to do was hobble 11.1 miles along a flat, and then descending, section of trail into Pearisburg. So that’s what I did.

Conductor caught up with me and we hiked together for the last few miles. He is one of my favorite hikers and I’m glad our paths have crossed several times. As a guy who previously thru-hiked the AT several years ago (and had an injury-riddled failed attempt last year), he has tremendous credibility in answering trail questions. He does that very humbly and only when asked, so he doesn’t come across as a know-it-all. We both are retired military and love the AT, so there are always plenty of things to talk about. After hiking into Pearisburg, checking into the motel, and showering (separately), we headed across the street for some great Mexican food and more conversation. He really lifted my spirits, as did the motel manager who offered to do my laundry for free.

That evening, after a hot bath, my feet were feeling a little better so I decided to walk to the other side of town and attend worship services at the Pearisburg Church of Christ. I arrived a few minutes before 6:00 p.m., the start time according to my google search. No one was there. I called the number listed as the contact person to get more information and got no answer. Oh well. I hiked back to the motel, stopping at Pizza Hut along the way for some pizza and salad.

My original plan was to take a zero day in Pearisburg on Monday, and then rent a car and head to Alabama on Tuesday for the wedding week activities. While sitting at the Pizza Hut, I decided to accelerate that by a day because I missed my wife and family, and an extra rental car day would be less than an extra night at the motel.

I decided to keep my day early arrival a secret to Lil Jan, and just told our friends, the Diamonds (with whom she’s staying) about the plan. In just a matter of hours, I had gone from the valley of pain, exhaustion, and sadness to the mountaintop of anticipation in seeing my wife, other family, and friends. I needed rest, a break from hiking and some normalcy.  I needed my family. I needed to be a part of the wedding festivities. I needed some extended time on the mountaintop. And God was about to pour out all those blessings on me big time.

Fob

“Into each life some rain must fall.”     –  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“The best thing one can do when it’s raining is to let it rain.”     – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Day 51

Light rain, particularly on a warm, muggy day, is a refreshing thing on the AT. Heavy rain and rain that lasts for several days gets old pretty quickly. It makes everything more challenging…the trail can become muddy (or even turn into a stream), the hiking pace slows, rocks become slicker, and visibility drops making the “money” views not so grand. For wearers of glasses, your choices are to take them off and have blurred vision, or leave them on and drive in the rain with no windshield wiper. While the contents of a well-packed and covered backpack can mostly stay dry, the same cannot be said for the hiker carrying it. You end up soaked to the bone by the rain and by your own sweat forming under any attempts to cover yourself with rain gear. Wet socks/feet make you more susceptible to blistering. If it’s rainy and cold, the misery factor increases as does the chance of getting sick.

Four upsides to all this: 1) water sources will be more frequent and reliable; 2) you appreciate the sunshine that will eventually appear so much more; 3) overcoming shared rainy misery bonds hikers; and 4) like other AT challenges, overcoming extended rain makes you a tougher, more resilient person.

Day 51 was a rainy day. My approach was to wear very little (shorts, sometimes a shirt, and boots), spend time in prayer, think positive thoughts, and keep moving. Near a stream at mile 540.1, two rabbits hopped by alongside the trail. That didn’t lift my spirits much but here’s what did…Trail Magic! The historic Lindamood School, part of the Settlers Museum, is a one-room schoolhouse from the 1890s. A local Baptist church stocks it with free food, drinks, and supplies for hikers. It would have been magic enough to simply have a place to get a break from the rain. All the goodies inside were a much appreciated bonus. Yet another church group letting their light shine on the AT!

After a short, rainy 6.2 mile and day, I decided to stop in Atkins and dry out at the Relax Inn. After checking in, my first stop was the delicious All-You-Can-Eat buffet at the nearby Barn Restaurant, a hiker favorite. By mid-afternoon the rain stopped and I was able to lay out my wet tent and boots in the parking lot while I did laundry. Since the laundry room was next to my room, I was able to put all my clothes in the washer and then sprint to my room wearing just a towel. As I entered my room, I noticed a trellis on the far side of the parking lot that would be a perfect spot to hang my tent. Not seeing anyone around, I grabbed my tent and ran across the parking lot in my towel. After hanging it and beginning the return sprint, I looked over and Princess Grit was entering the parking lot. She yelled, “Is that you, Fob?” and I yelled back, “Never heard of him!” and ducked into my room.

That night Buddah Jim, Princess Grit, several other hikers and I ate at a Mexican restaurant attached to, appropriately, a gas station. Buddah Jim told me all about his work at a psychiatric hospital. Based on his description of some of the patients, I believe most aspiring thru-hikers would feel right at home there.

Day 52

Before leaving the motel, I picked up a couple of items from the hiker box, including some beef jerky. A few miles after crossing the I-81 underpass out of Atkins, I reached mile 547.275…the one quarter mark on the Appalachian Trail! Later that day, near mile 556, I saw my 6th harmless AT snake.

At mile 557.3, atop Brushy Mountain, I started getting hungry and remembered the beef jerky I had picked up from the motel’s hiker box. That sounded good so I reached into the package, pulled out two pieces, and stuffed them in my mouth. Instantly, I knew something was wrong. They tasted like wet cardboard that had been sautéed in bacon grease. I gagged for a moment and then swallowed them simply for the calories. A little while later, I commented on the disappointing beef jerky to a fellow hiker. He looked at the package and said, “Dude, you’re eating dog treats!” I couldn’t believe it! There was no mention of dogs or pictures of dogs on the package. There were some Spanish phrases on the package, but nothing about perros (dogs). Later, I complained to Conductor about the misleading labeling. He asked who made them and I told him Gravy Train. He told me Gravy Train is a well-known dog food company, so the package really doesn’t need a warning label stating, “These are dog treats.  Not to be consumed by hikers.” And yet, having stuffed the bacon-flavored cardboard in my mouth, I would say it does. They were so bad, in fact, that I’m not even sure our dog, Mandy, would eat them.

As I ascended Lynn Camp Mountain, I saw and got video of AT Snake #7, a black snake. I checked the forecast and saw that heavy rain was due to hit in about 30 minutes. It was time to descend the mountain in full beast mode. I kicked it into high gear and made it to a pretty campsite right on Lick Creek with enough time to pitch my tent, heat up some instant potatoes to accompany my Mike n Ikes, and hang my bear bag. Then, with the sun setting and a light rain beginning to fall, I caught my second AT fish using a piece of Slim Jim. I would have used some beef jerky for bait, but Gravy Train is really just for dogs.

Fob

“A good character is the best tombstone. Those who loved you and were helped by you will remember you when forget-me-nots have withered. Carve your name on hearts, not on marble.” – Charles H. Spurgeon (1834-1892), English Preacher

Day 43

Sadly, my reunion with Lil Jan had come to an end, and she drove me back to the Shook Branch Recreation Area. Her parents (MawMaw and Papa) and sister and brother-in-law (Carol and Scott) were in the area visiting Janet’s other sister and decided to stop by and hug my neck. It was great to see them if only for a few minutes. After saying our goodbyes, and giving Lil Jan a final kiss, they departed.

One thing that will help take the sting out of saying goodbye is a bit of…Trail Magic! Yes, right there at the Rec Area a group of 2015 thru-hikers had reunited from different parts of the country to set up a magnificent cookout. I knew it would be special because those who have hiked the trail know just how to serve up some magic. Among many possible options, I went with a bacon cheeseburger, chips, soda, and dessert. I sat there for 30 minutes picking their brains about their experiences and what to expect as I head northward. So, I want to give a big shout out to Rock Boat, Forward, Jeopardy, Doc, Klank, and Poboy for the conversation and the magic. (I would learn later that Forward is friends with Karen King, a church friend from our Virginia days.)

One of the last things said to me by Rock Boat was, “There were lots of good and bad things that happened on the trail, but I only remember the good stuff.” His comment gave me something to think about as I headed out for the beautiful, several mile long hike along Wautaga Lake. Did he actually forget the bad stuff that happened on his thru-hike? Or, was the bad stuff, in the context of the overall hike, eventually considered to be part of the good stuff? For example, was the hike through a thunderstorm (considered “bad” at the time) ultimately considered part of the “good” because he had overcome it, survived, and developed a closer bond with other survivors as a result? In James 1:2-4, James writes, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” I’m trying to take these verses to heart and really apply them out here. I’m trying to find joy in the thunderstorm, the foot/toe numbness, the homesickness, and other trail trials, knowing that God will somehow use them to make me a more mature and complete person and Christian. Overcoming some “bad” stuff has already increased my trail perseverance, resolve, and “bad” tolerance levels, and a goal is to have that translate back in the real world. I want to more consistently find joy in the seemingly good and bad, and know that God will use both to mold me into the man he wants me to be. I also want to have a much higher percentage of bad stuff…daily annoyances, perceived slights, inconveniences, traffic jams, cold showers, etc…be small stuff that I don’t sweat.

As I hiked along the lake, I passed the Wautaga Lake Shelter that has been closed due to bear activity. I also passed a 1/2 mile long section of the trail which had burned in the recent forest fire (arson suspected). Later, a group from the Centerview Church of Christ, where I had worshipped the preceding Sunday, passed me from the other direction. It was great to see David Irick, one of their ministers, and other familiar faces, out on a day hike. We spoke for a few moments and David was kind enough to give me my first Yoo-hoo chocolate drink. Later, near Wilbur Dam Road, I enjoyed one final parting gift from the Centerview congregation…a cooler full of Throwback Mountain Dew!

After a fairly easy 9.1 mile day, I stayed at the Vandeventer Shelter with a gorgeous view behind it. The shelter and surrounding tent sites were full that night, with a cast of characters including 5-Star, Odysseus, and NesQuick (my hiking buddy from the Great Smoky Mountains Bubble). There was also a rather odd fellow (section hiker) who said he and his fiancé had been robbed of their food and money while getting water at a shelter a few days prior. Then they had a big fight and were now hiking in opposite directions, even though they were “on their way to Texas.” I wondered if he knew the AT doesn’t go through Texas.  He had no food, no stove, his phone was dead, and he never got out of his sleeping bag. This all seemed rather bizarre to me. Although he didn’t ask for any help, the aspiring thru-hikers passed around a large ziplock bag at campfire that night and filled it with snacks for him. That night, I did my best to find joy in the loud snoring of the hiker right next to me in the shelter. Maybe his snoring kept the mice away.

Day 44

I awoke and immediately had two things working in my favor: an early start (6:50 a.m., to get away from Sir Snores-a-Lot) and a relatively flat topography ahead. This had the potential to be a big mileage day, although that’s rarely my goal.

At mile 444 I passed the Uncle Nick Grindstaff Monument. According to his tombstone, he was born December 26, 1851 and died July 22, 1953. He lived as a hermit on Iron Mountain the last 40 years of his life, and his tombstone reads, “He lived alone, suffered alone, and died alone.” For more on his life and story, check out… http://appalachiantreks.blogspot.com/2012/07/uncle-nick-grindstaff.html?m=1

As I descended Iron Mountain, I looked down at my sweaty right forearm and noticed my first AT tick walking along it. I brushed him off and spent the next mile running my fingers through my hair and checking various body crevices. I fear ticks and the diseases they carry more than I fear snakes and bears combined.  (Although a combined Snake-Bear would be fairly intimidating.)

At mile 447.3 I began a peaceful, scenic walk through a pasture. Out here on the AT, I love how God can just flip a switch and send us from mountains to pastures, from wind to stillness, and from shady laurel valleys to sunny ridges in mere moments.  If you don’t like the scenery, keep hiking and wait a few minutes. Halfway across the pasture I stopped and visited with Mountain Man, a rare southbound hiker. We exchanged trail notes and our beards posed for a selfie together.  Later, I came across a metal cage full of…Trail Magic!  I had a soda and a snack, courtesy of the Girls in Action, a 4th-6th Grade mission group from the Nelson Chapel Baptist Church, Mountain City, Tennessee.  I hope my fellow hikers and I don’t just see and appreciate the magic, and the Trail Angels, but also the faith in Christ and desire to live like Him that motivates much of it.  In other words, I hope they receive not just the Mountain Dew, but ultimately the Gospel Message that can really change their lives, and mine.

As I descended Locust Knob, I met a couple from Johnson City out on a day hike.  They have hiked local AT sections and other area trails for the past decade and have set up numerous off-trail secret campsites behind rock formations and other barriers for their own use.  He asked if I noticed the two mating butterflies floating around about 30 yards south.  I told him I had, but wasn’t sure if they were mating or just holding hands. He asked, “Did you notice they were two different species?  That’s just wrong.”  I suggested maybe a third species would result, but that didn’t satisfy him.  He also told me the green plant I had been seeing in abundance all day long was a May Apple.

After a 20.2 mile day, I stealth camped near a spring at mile 456.1. A short time later, NesQuick (who is having serious foot issues) and Dawn (aka Slim Rim, from Vermont) joined me and tented nearby. As we ate supper (for me, that meant Mountain House Pasta Primavera with 2 Parmesan cheese packets), she asked about my family and I bragged on my sons for a few minutes. She replied, “That’s really cool. I hope my dad talks that way about me when I’m not around.” I hope he does too.

Fob

The Voice From My Pack

Woke up this morning, felt the weight of my heart,
Didn’t feel like hiking, didn’t even wanna start.

It’s been just nine months, but the pain feels so real,
Some wounds do persist, some hearts never heal.

A pouch with her ashes, a voice from my pack…
“Keep hiking son, I’ll forever have your back.”

My dear mother loved me, and my sisters too,
Hearts as big as hers, there just are so few.

But no phone calls today, or sweet cards to sign,
No flowers to send, to this precious mother of mine.

A pouch with her ashes, a voice from my pack…
“Keep hiking son, I’ll forever have your back.”

I don’t call the shots, didn’t hang the stars and moon,
But from my vantage point, God took mom too soon.

Guess he needed an angel, and she fit the bill,
He’ll put her to work, but I miss her still.

A pouch with her ashes, a voice from my pack…
“Keep hiking son, I’ll forever have your back.”

So I’m hiking the AT, hike most every day,
Told mom I would do it, she told me she’d pray.

I know mom’s in heaven, but today I shed tears,
We just have her ashes, and memories to hold dear.

A pouch with her ashes, a voice from my pack…
“Keep hiking son, I’ll forever have your back.”

Got out of my tent, and laced up my boots,
What’s in store today, mom?…probably more rocks and roots.

One step at a time, in the snow and the rain,
With mom in my backpack, we’ll make it to Maine.

A pouch with her ashes, a voice from my pack…
“Keep hiking son, I’ll forever have your back.”

At Katahdin’s summit, I’ll see mom’s smiling face,
I’ll kneel to the ground, where her ashes I’ll place.

Our journey will have ended, as mother and son,
But she’ll remain in my heart, I’ll still miss her a ton.

A pouch with her ashes, a voice from my pack…
“Keep hiking son, I’ll forever have your back.”

I thank God for her life, and all she means to me,
Our moms are so special, I think you’ll agree.

If your mom is still living, I so envy you,
Tell her you love her, cards alone just won’t do.

To the pouch with her ashes, to the voice from my pack…
“I’ll keep hiking mom, and never look back.”

I love you, Mom! Happy Mothers Day! Now let’s go climb that mountain together…

Fob

“Dedicate some of your life to others. Your dedication will not be a sacrifice. It will be an  exhilarating experience because it is intense effort applied toward a meaningful end.” – Thomas Dooley

Day 36

I awoke and quietly got ready in the loft as the University of Florida students snoozed nearby. On the other side of them was Lost Gear, an African-American, retired Marine who was doing a 3-day section hike with an eye toward a thru-hike with fellow Marines some day. He was out of water and didn’t have a filter, so I hooked him up with some filtered water and enjoyed our brief conversation.

I then climbed the incredibly scenic Little Hump and Hump Mountains. As I climbed, I started channeling my inner Secret Life of Walter Mitty. I imagined being Mitty (played by Ben Stiller) as he climbs the Himalayas in search of Sean O’Connell (played by Sean Penn), who is on a summit photographing a rare snow leopard. Halfway up Hump Mountain, I stopped for a selfie. I glanced at it and asked myself, “When did you join the Taliban?”

Later on, I met a hiker named Chopper who got that name from having to be medically airlifted to a hospital while hiking. They told him he had drank plenty of water, but not enough electrolytes. He was a huge proponent of putting electrolyte tablets in your drinking water while hiking, and I’ve been doing so ever since. At mile 390.1, Doll Flats, I left North Carolina for the last time on my AT journey.

After a 9.2 mile day, I arrived at US 19E (Roan Mountain) and hiked .3 miles west to the Mountain Harbour Bed and Breakfast/Hiker Hostel. Upon arrival at the hostel, Hightop and his dog were kind enough to share their pizza with me. Sharing the hostel with us were Bevo (from Austin, Texas), Not a Bear (has a black backpack that sometimes other hikers mistake for a bear), Ptarmigan (named after a Colorado hiking club…and a bird), Morning Lori (from Maine), and Cactus (from Dallas). Cactus got that name by falling on a prickly pear cactus while hiking in the hill country of Texas. The cactus needles stuck into him all over his rear end and thighs. In severe pain, he dropped his shorts and underwear and bent over so that a friend/fellow hiker could pull out the imbedded cactus needles. Unbeknownst to Cactus, once all the needles were gone, the “friend” continued pulling out his butt hairs for several minutes, as others looked on smiling. That’s just wrong.

At the hostel parking lot I ran into Lost Gear, the Marine I had shared a loft with. He offered me a ride into town, where I picked up some groceries at Redi Mart and had a filling steak supper and peanut butter milkshake dessert across the street at Bob’s Dairyland. Needing a ride back to the hostel, I approached a young local guy filling up his pickup truck with gas and asked him for a ride. He agreed but said he’d need to clear out a spot for me. We walked to the passenger side and the seat was filled with what appeared to be his life possessions…pictures, glasses, clothes, thermos, lampshade, etc. I helped him move the stuff to the bed of his truck with his other possessions, and felt bad that he was going to this trouble for me. During our 5-minute drive, I learned that he and his girlfriend had just had a fight and that she had kicked him out, along with his stuff. He said, “it was all my fault,” to which I thoughtlessly responded, “probably so.”

Day 37

By far the best thing about the Mountain Harbour Hostel was the optional, $12, all you can eat breakfast buffet. That’s about six times what I normally spend on breakfast, but I’d have to say it was the most satisfying breakfast I’ve eaten in my 50 years. Watching ravenous, hairy, rough-looking hikers walk up the stairs from the hostel to the up-scale B&B to line-up for breakfast was quite the sight. Like ornery 7th grade boys lined up outside the principal’s office, we were anxious, fidgety, and drooling just a tad. We finally were allowed in where we devoured a simply magnificent breakfast. I ate and ate and ate some more, and drank at least 20 cups of orange juice, cran-Apple juice, and coffee.

In my desire to attend worship services whenever I’m in a trail town on a Sunday, I did some Google-ing and eventually stumbled on a potential lead…Tom and Sandra Johnson from Roan Mountain, Tennessee and the Centerview Church of Christ of Elizabethton. I called them and explained my situation and they graciously agreed to pick me up at the hostel, take me to church, and then deliver me back to the trailhead. That’s what you call a very sweet couple and a very successful phone call. My brothers and sisters in Christ were so kind to me. The services were uplifting and they invited me to the front of the line at their potluck luncheon! While Catholics are known for rosary beads and Jews for the menorah, members of the churches of Christ can do casseroles better than anyone! Romans 12:13 reads, “Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.” My heartfelt thanks to Tom and Sandra and the rest of this church family for your warm hospitality!

I got back on the trail at 2:20 p.m. and was able to get in 9.2 miles of hiking. At mile 396 I passed a scenic wilderness cemetery and regretted no other hikers were nearby to tell my cemetery joke to…”Did you know none of the locals are buried in that cemetery? Yeah, it’s because they’re not dead yet.” At mile 398.5 I took a short blue blazed trail to get a picture of Jones Falls. At 399.2 I began a nice section along the Elk River, the longest riverside hike to date. I stopped for a moment and pulled my first ramp out of the ground, wiped the dirt off of it, and ate it. Ramps are delicious wild onions that can be eaten raw or cooked with Ramen noodles or pretty much anything. They trash your mouth out, but that’s not really an issue out here. At mile 400 I stopped to take a picture of a mile 400 milestone that someone had left. On the one hand, 400 miles seems like a long way to hike. On the other hand, I’ve gone less than 19% of the AT, so there’s a lot of work left to do.

That night I decided to sleep in the Mountaineer Shelter, a rare 3-level shelter. I was joined in and around the shelter by Black Bear (from Maine), SpongeBob, Sunshine, and OutStanding. As I prepared to climb up to the second level, I noticed shelter graffiti which read, “Brooks was here. So was Red.” Just for the record, so was Fob.

Fob