I'm posting this from the Damascus, VA public library, where I've shuttled ahead for Trail Days. I'm sure other people will comment on Trail Days; this post is random musings about my experiences getting 360+ miles on my NoBo trek.

"Trudgery": That's my term for quite a bit of the southern AT, where the terrain requires your attention nearly every second. (If you swat at a gnat on your arm, you will trip on something.) This isn't fun hiking. I've already met four people hiking some or all of the AT again because their first trek was spent looking at their feet. There are plenty of things worth seeing, and worth stopping to see. In addition to the expected scenic vistas, I got to see a recent forest fire up close just days afterward coming into Hot Springs, NC. The firefighters used the AT as a firebreak.

Conditioning: It's better to be in good shape when you start the Trail. I thought I had prepared reasonably by being able to hike 15 miles with a 35 lb. pack -- on flat ground at sea level. I was wrong, as I ended up taking two days for the Approach Trail. You can get in shape on the AT, and I was stubborn enough to do so. It's not fun.

Georgia: It's not easy. The stairs at Amicalola Falls whipped my butt. The descent from Blood Mountain (highest point in Georgia) is awfully steep. That said, North Carolina is tougher.

Trekking Poles: It seems there are about as many styles of use as hikers. I figure poles used inefficiently are probably more helpful than deleterious to your AT hiking experience. I pole more aggressively than most, digging in to protect my knees going downhill and to support myself should I slip backward on uphill stretches; but I carry my poles on clear stretches with little slope. There have only been about a dozen places so far where I've needed to toss my poles forward and use three-points-of-contact climbing. However, there have been lots of places where there's room for your feet but not also for your poles. My biggest problem has been where a pole plants much (like a foot) deeper than expected; too often, that has led to me taking a tumble and bending my pole. I think aluminum poles are a much better idea than carbon for people who have this problem. I was hiking with a guy who would occasionally hike up his pack at the hips, flinging his pole tips around eye level. Conversation got difficult because I started following much further back where I couldn't hear him when he was facing forward.

Trail Magic: It happens, but not dependably. I went two weeks before I got my first soda handed to me on the trail. The best trail magic is a ride when you need one, which I've received a couple of times now. However, food alone can be outstanding in sufficient quality and quantity. I took a zero day because of awesome trail magic near the Fontana Hilton: eggs at 9:00, burgers later, cheesecake, and my last cold drink 7 hours after the start. Lots of opportunity to talk to other hikers as well, so the experience nourished both body and spirit.

Flexibility: It's good to be able to tolerate everyday aches and pains, because every day you'll have aches and pains. I stated on the Approach Trail on March 23, and my shoulders and hips have been sore every day since then. Add to that sore feet, sore ankles, sore knees, peeling sunburn, bug bites, scrapes from bushes along the trail, & c. and other annoyances. Learn to embrace the suck. I've actually managed to follow the (generally stupid) advice of abusive football coaches everywhere and, faced with a swollen ankle thanks to rock scrambles around Big Butt (actual name) to "walk it off". (Didn't really have an alternative, as I wasn't going to call for a helicopter extraction just for a boo-boo.)

It's also good to be able to deal with things changing fast. This includes weather, where I had a few flakes of snow my first day and temperatures in the high 70s a couple weeks later. I expected to need bug netting in June, but actually used it starting the first week of May. Changes to your body might come even faster, as I've taken up 12 inches on my hip belt (Granite Gear's "RE-FIT" system) in 6 weeks. This is scary fast weight loss. I wore my L.L. Bean Cresta hiking pants until they literally fell off me. In response to these body changes I've adopted 4 rules of consumption:
  • Drink when you're thirsty.
  • Drink when you're not thirsty.
  • Eat when you're hungry.
  • Eat when you're not hungry.


Ball Caps: They suck. I left my AT cap in a hiker box in Franklin, and replaced it with a boonie hat. The wide brim protects my ears and neck from sunburn. The brim also keeps bug mesh away from my head so they can't bite me through it.

Hiking Partners: It's helpful to find someone with a compatible pace. I spent about 10 days with a father & son pair. The son was trying to take care of his dad, who was awfully sedentary in retirement. The dad was hiking with whiskey and cigars, and the pace was as slow as 4 miles a day. I've had a couple other hiking partners since then, and they both wanted me to lead. Apparently I'm better at that than I thought.

Stubbornness: An excellent quality to have, which will get you through when everything else fails. I spent my most miserable day on the AT hiking just 6 miles up from Mollie's Ridge in GSMNP, with steep climbs in 4 inches of mud during driving rain. (I only fell once that day, but slid downhill on my butt two body lengths.) The next day I needed to take a zero in my tent just using my body heat to dry out soaked garments one at a time. The day after that I got back on the trail and convinced another hiker who'd experienced the same ridiculous climb to reconsider his choice to quit.

Out of time now. Will post later if time permits.