Appalachian Trail

Journal Entry: June 6, 2010 – The 100 Mile Wilderness

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Day 8

Woke up late, around 8 a.m.

I thought if the weather remained clear I would traverse White Cap, Hay and Gulf Hagas.  This would have been a fine plan if it had simply remained overcast.  But, not long after setting out it began to sprinkle.

I caught up with the two young high school kids Just Bob and Trout had mentioned seeing.  They were busy rearranging their gear.  We nodded hello to each other as I walked by.  Soon it began to pour, coming down at a steady pace.

The hike was brutal.  Large blowdowns littered the trail.  Maxwell was not happy.  Navigating around the dense branches of the downed trees was hard work and required a lot of coaxing to get him to follow.  I suppose if I was a foot off the ground it would have made more sense to just trot underneath them, taking the path of least resistance.

I pushed myself, hard, to get up the lower half of White Cap.  I refused to let my mind think of anything but the now of my situation.  I still felt disconnected and haggard.  In an unfocused haze.  In spite of that, a dreadful thought, a reality, continuously circled in my mind.  An unwelcome realization while packing and eating this morning.  I was running out of food.  And quickly.  Also, my caloric intake was not nearly close to what it should be.  I had read that ideally you want to be consuming 3000 to 4000 calories a day.  I would be exaggerating if I said I was taking in 1200 a day.

I was soaked, inside and out of my rain gear.  The wind, sweat and rain had me chilled to the bone.  I was exhausted.  I knew Plan A, to stop at the Logan Brook Lean-to would be the smart move.  Immediately upon arrival I hung up everything to ‘dry’ and set up camp.  I pulled all my food out.  Looking at it I realized I had much less left than I thought.  I laid out five plastic ziplock bags and I portioned out everything I had for five days.  Four days worth of hot breakfasts and dinners.  Five days worth of cold lunches and snacks.  The amounts were painfully meager.  Portioning out the trail mix was a joke, about a cup per bag.  I counted the pieces of dried fruit and chocolate pieces I put in each bag to make sure they were evenly distributed.  Two small squares of chocolate per bag and a piece or two more than that of dried fruits.  And fragments of beef jerky in each.

Around 4:30 p.m., Eli and Crawford appeared, drenched.  We all bunked down early with the sound of rain playing us a lullaby on the roof of the lean-to.  One of them, maybe Crawford mentioned a planetary conjunction this evening.  I scribbled away in my journal.

Distance: about 3.9-miles

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Copyright 2011 The Truth Will Set You Free

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Journal Entry: “Endangered Wilderness! Call to arms!”

On Saturday, March 5th I attended a photography presentation and talk given by Harvey Halpern at the Vermont Institute of Natural Science(VINS) courtesy of an invite given by my friend, Maureen Sheldon about the endangered wilderness and what we can do to protect and preserve it.  I not only had the priviledge to view some amazing photography of lovely Utah landscapes that most people have not seen, I also had the pleasure of speaking with others who share my passion for the preservation of nature and the wilderness.

Some of you may be thinking, Utah…it’s so far away from me and my world.  But in fact, the desecration of our wilderness is happening close to home in Maine along the Appalachian Trail as well.  These public lands are under threat of development, being stripped for their resources and are on the brink of being lost forever.  The actions being taken by those opposing what is happening in Utah are setting a standard and model for what others can do to fight the development of these wilderness regions, owned by you, that should remain untouched by the hand of man.  Regions which, of solitude and nature, should be left to its own devices.

Here is a link that will provide more information on Southern Utah:

Maureen, Harvey, Tree(from VINS) and I are discussing putting together a hiking trip to visit this region.  If you are interested in going or would like more detailed information on what you can do to get involved please contact me at: nichole.l.hastings@gmail.com

Now to address the threat in Maine on the Bigelow Preserve, a wind farm that would be visible within 4-miles from the Appalachian Trail.  This wind farm would not only put in place infrastructure, that in my mind is one step closer to other developments, it would dominate a  remote region considered ‘wilderness’ and for many hikers an escape, a moment of solitude from civilization.

Here is a link about the Bigelow Preserve:

Here are some other links that will give you a better idea of the current state of affairs concerning the Highland Winds LLC wind farm:

Maine needs your help!  Utah needs your help!  If you are a Vermont resident, your state reps are in support of those working to protect the wilderness in Utah.  If you are a New Hampshire resident then you need to write a letter to Jeanne Shaheen asking for her support of Utah. And while you’re at it, let’s address Maine.

You may do so here:

Support of Utah, your efforts in supporting Utah will help with what is happening in Maine.  Please write and get involved.  Nature needs your support and voice.  As the MATC points out on their website, Maine is an exporter of energy.  Le’s contemplate this.  I am a supporter of clean renewable energy but not at this cost.

Please take action and let others know who may be interested in supporting these causes.  Thank you.

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Journal Entry: June 5, 2010 – 100 Mile Wilderness

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Day 7

The sound of raindrops splattered the tent.  It’s 4:30 a.m.  A warning of the day ahead and what’s to come?  A passing thought of going back to sleep had crossed my mind but scrambling to rescue my drying clothing had me wide awake.

I packed in the narrow confines of my tent.  There wasn’t much room in there to maneuver.  It’s inevitable I’ll wake to a full on rain storm in it, so it was good to get the drill down and be practiced.

Everything was in place and I was on the trail by 5:30 a.m.  I had a long day ahead of me if I planned to make it to the East Branch Pleasant River Lean-to.  Another big push.  I wanted to bust a move and get a good pace going.  Was I feeling motivated due to Just Bob and Trout’s presence?

My hunch was correct, it poured all morning.  The trash bag rain skirt kept the water out but the sweat had me drenched anyways.  I arrived at the Cooper Brook Lean-to around 11:30 a.m. and dried my socks over a small fire.  About 200 feet before the lean-to I had lost my balance and footing on a rock mid-stream.  To save myself from disaster I stepped into the water, up to my knees.  My feet had been dry all morning, in spite of the rain, and were soaked and boots sloshing.

I trudged to the lean-to, following two hikers that passed me after my stream ‘incident’, Eli and Crawford.  Not long after Just Bob and Trout came around the corner and joined us.  And then, a short while later, while lunching, another fellow appeared whose name I’ve forgotten.

The lean-to was crowded.  It was too crowded.  I spoke little and tended my drying socks and boots.  Dry feet are happy feet.  And I had not yet gotten a single blister.  The group finished eating.  Someone, maybe Just Bob, made a comment about ‘taking care to not let my wool socks get burnt’ before they left.  I shrugged and smiled.

I thought about staying at the Cooper Brook but there was a pause in the falling rain.  My boots and socks were dry and it was only 2:00 p.m.  I decided to mush on.  The next lean-to, the East Branch River Lean-to was about 8 miles away.  I knew I’d get in late and the shelter would be crowded.

I decided to go for it.

The hike was grueling.  The trail up Little Boardman Mountain was littered with blowdowns, many of them too high to climb over.  The brush and trees were thick making going off-trail and around difficult.  I had to rest at one point and sit down for half an hour.  I was light-headed and all the energy suddenly drained out of me.

I was shaky.  I felt ravenous and ate a mix of chocolate, nuts and beef jerky.  As I continued on, I found myself reaching down and pulling up handfuls of wild clover to eat as well.  I couldn’t stop myself from doing so.

Suddenly, Eli and Crawford were there walking at me on the trail.  I was momentarily disconcerted.  Was I going the right direction?  They said they had missed a food drop they’d arranged and were back-tracking.  After they passed I momentarily thought about my food supplies.  I found myself eating more clover.  More blowdowns.  About 4 more miles to the East Branch Lean-to before White Cap Mountain, a 3500 footer.

My thoughts churned.  I had figured I’d need to average 11 miles a day to keep myself on schedule.  With yesterday and today I was up on miles.  I wanted a ‘day off’.  My feet hurt.  The wind was blowing hard.  I caught a whiff of smoke.  The others?  Campfire smoke?  I lose myself in placing one foot in front of the other.

It’s dark.  Close to 8:00 p.m.  I think.  I walked into camp.  Everyone was settled and preparing dinner.  A radio is blaring country music.  Just Bob had caught a couple under-sized rainbow trout and was just taking them off the fire.

I dropped my gear, hooked Maxwell’s leash on to a tree, and set up my spot in the shelter.  “I know it seems cruel but it will be a huge help if you could just please ignore him.” I say.  Maxwell whined.

He’d been difficult after Cooper Brook trying to pull ahead on the leash.  Everyone had been giving him love and attention.  At lunch, Just Bob asked if he could give him a treat.  I said, “Yes, just one.” and had then caught him feeding him more when he thought I wasn’t looking.  I was adamant that Maxwell walk beside or behind me on this hike.  He’d had other ideas.  My hike and energy expenditure had doubled as a result.  I was tired.

Just Bob and Trout lasted an hour before they went over, ignoring my request, petting him.  I was too tired to say anything.  I silently went about preparing my meal and eating it.  I fed Maxwell.  I went behind the lean-to, camp clothes in my hand to change.  Just Bob walked around just as I was de-panting.  I continued changing staring him down as he quickly scuttled back around to the front of the lean-to giving me privacy.

I rejoined the ‘crowd’.  Maxwell and I settled in to the sleeping bag.  A final thought before unconsciousness…packed too much dog food.

 

Distance: about 15.2-miles

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photographed by Nichole Hastings

Journal Entry: June 4, 2010 – 100 Mile Wilderness

Friday, June 4, 2010

Day 6

First up.  It was raining lightly.  I slowly started packing.  Wishing wouldn’t make the rain go away.  Used my spare garbage bag to make a rain skirt.  I didn’t want wet bottoms like the day earlier.

The rain  slowed to a light sprinkle.  I stirred the coals and got a small fire going to dry my boots a little more.  By then, everyone was up and preparing their packs to go.  I headed out while they were breaking their fast to get a start on the day.  About an hour later the rain stopped and the sun broke through the clouds.  Glorious!  I tucked my rain skirt away for another rainy day.

The rays of the sun filtering through the canopy overhead lifted my spirits.  It was decided.  The Antlers Tent site would be my day’s destination.  According to the map it was relatively flat terrain with a ‘bump’ at the end.  It was as exhausting as I thought it might be.  At points I found myself looking for a place to pitch tent, a way out.  There were no proper or accommodating places to easily do so.  I walked on.

I stopped at a viewing point, Sand Pond, which looked back upon Mt. Katahdin.  I even mustered the energy to put my pack down and dig out the digital camera to take a picture of the lovely view across the lake.  I looked back at the mountain whose summit I had stood upon just a few days before in the distance.

Just Bob and Trout flew by me about mid-morning.  I paid them no mind and tempered my desire to travel at their pace.  I don’t know what happened to Limp Along.  I never saw him again.

It was a day of thought.  About life and this trail.  The twists.  The turns.  The obstacles getting to it and so far along the way.  Often I couldn’t see exactly where I was heading, what was around the bend, until I was right up upon it.  Several times I had to stop and get  my bearings, checking to make sure I was traveling in the right direction.  Many had walked this simple foot path, my feet, their feet, a past present connection with each step taken.

The last couple of miles, maybe more, my mind was lost in the zen of the moment.  I found a thought repeating itself, “If you can’t run, walk.  If you can’t walk, crawl.  But by god, keep moving forward.”  A rally cry of encouragement from me to my soul.  Funny, my ex-husband had loved that saying and quoted it often.

I stumbled in to the Antlers Tent site in the early evening.  It was maybe around 6 p.m.-ish.  I smiled at the sight of the tall pines and spacious tenting sites carpeted with long pine needles.  I pitched my tent and set up camp quickly.  There was a methodical comfort in knowing exactly where I wanted everything placed, strung and hung.

I saw Just Bob and Trout a few sites away, camped close to the water to the left of my mine.  I went and said ‘hello’ on my way to the lake.  They looked settled, as though they wouldn’t be straying far from their fire and dinner preparation.  I hustled to the water, took a quick look around, stripped and jumped in.  It was a pleasure to bathe.  To scrub off the day’s sweat and dust from my skin.  To wash it out of my hair.

The water was clear, cold and refreshing.  The lake was dead calm, a flat mirror reflecting the evening sky and trees in the distance.  Maxwell sat on the shore, waiting.

Once done, I dried off with a hand towel and dressed in my camp clothes.  Refreshed, clean, swinging my bag of toiletries and Maxwell trotting along at my side I headed back to my campsite for the evening.  I made dinner quickly as the mosquitos began to swarm, slid into my tent to eat it at my leisure, and reflected upon the day.

 

Distance: about 13.8-miles

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Copyright 2011 The Truth Will Set You Free

Content on this site may not be sold or reproduced without permission.