Hit the Road, Maine! I Ain't Comin' Back 'Cept by Train or Boat or Car or Plane!

Yes. I have completed my first state of the Appalachian Trail - all two-hundred eighty-one point-something miles of the moose poop-laden, rock-filled, root-knotted, and sometimes head-scratching Maine "foot path". And it was awesome. Every wipe out, ankle roll, and blister surgery (yes, scissors included) was worth the wealth of summit vistas, friendly conversations, and trail knowledge that I collected along the way. For those of you keeping track at home, I completed Maine on the morning of the 23rd day of my hike, placing me comfortably within the 21-25 day range for the poll responses. For those of you who answered correctly, you may choose between: the blue shirt I wore through the entire state of Maine (I'm throwing it out otherwise), an autographed photo of me and the "Kennebec River Ferryman" (unfortunately he wasn't giving autographs at the time), or maybe you'd rather just give yourself a pat on the back...

Maine is no more.

Yet, barely a dent has been made.

With me for this crossing of state-lines was my extremely brave sister, the one formerly known as Kristen. Whenever you see or call her now, you must refer to her by her trail name "Squirrel". You might think that she received this name due to her uncanny ability of scrambling around rocks and trees, or for her foresight of packing food for a rainy day (much like squirrels store up acorns and nuts for the winter), and you would be right in thinking so. However, this name was given her based on her snacking tendencies while on the trail. It seemed like every time I looked back to check on her she was pulling a small stash of trail mix out of the side pouch of her backpack, or stooping down to pick blueberries and raspberries on the tops of mountains. She wanted a trail name. She got one.

Squirrel in rock-climbing action (notice food pouch on right hip).

Food anecdotes aside, she really was a trooper. Through no design of her own, she set aside this past week of her summer to hike what is known by many as the most difficult section of the AT - The Mahoosuc mountain range which includes Mahoosuc Notch, a labyrinth of boulders and ice caves. If you don't believe me, watch this movie.

Mountain hiking/climbing isn't an easy thing to just pick up and start doing, let alone in the middle of a tough section of trail. My sister kept right up with me, and owned the downhill sections so well that I made sure she led every time. Downhill on the AT doesn't mean strolling down a gentle slope, it means picking your way down roots and rocks which are often covered in a coat of slime or rain. It was awesome having her along for the week, and I hope she had as much fun as I did (although she did say someone would have to pay her 5,000 dollars to do that section again). The fact that none of my "Summercamp" buddies caught up to us after a week of hiking is a testament to how well she really did.

As for other occurrences of note, I have continued so far to live up to my name of "9 Lives". With Squirrel watching doubtfully, I attempted a crossing of a wet, rotten log 3 to 4 feet above a perfectly manageable piece of trail. I don't know why I tried it, but it looked like a very attractive option at the time. Of course I fell off and luckily landed in a little tree that held me back from falling the rest of the way down the mountain. I think I was too happy to be alive to take a picture. Another time I was trying to catch up to my sister who had taken off in front of me, downhill. I began to practice what I thought to be good "trail running", which to me was "running as fast as I could down the trail". Didn't see the wet rock face drop off waiting for me - so I continued to "ski?" my way down the rock, pulled off a complete 360, and somehow landed on my two feet. This is not skill, people. This is God watching over me. If you read my journal you'll find almost every night without fail, "STOP DOING DUMB STUFF!" or "NEED TO BE MORE CAREFUL!" written somewhere in the entry.

Instead of telling complete stories of what happened in the past week and a half, here are some pictures...

The hardworking volunteers that keep the trail running. They asked if they could take my picture, so I told them it would cost them one too.

Pumped to be on a mountain with no view.

Can someone (an ornithologist?) please identify this bird for me??? They jump out at me from the trees and yell at me. But they're fat and can't seem to fly too well...

A typical AMC shelter.

Again, these boulders were ridiculous.

As for the hike overall so far, I'm really enjoying it. Other than a few cuts, bruises, and losing just over twenty pounds, I feel pretty good. I find I can consistently get myself up mountains without stopping for a break, and at times I can pull off 20 mile days if I really need to. If I'm having an off day, and getting to a peak seems out of the question, I repeat Isaiah 40:31 over, and over, and over until I find myself at the top.

Everyone out here is in the same boat, so it's easy to get to know people through their stories and struggles. Not many people know why they're out here doing this, and sometimes neither do I. I never doubt that what I'm doing is a good and valuable thing, but sometimes I wonder what it is exactly I'm getting out of it. And although I don't have a distinct answer, I usually come to this conclusion: That a lot of what I'm doing with my life and thinking about, I do because it is what I think someone my age is supposed to be doing and thinking about. Not that going to college and getting a job are the wrong things to do (they're not). I just needed to distance myself from the flow and examine my options from afar. I don't need to come up with a blueprint of what I want to do with the rest of my life, I just needed a little "hitting of the brakes" to allow myself to slow down and think a little (and pray a lot). I guess I don't want to do anything for the sole sake of doing "something" because it felt like the right thing to do and made sense. I always come back to this prayer when I think I'm becoming too much a part of this world and start to settle just because it feels natural:

Prayer of Sir Francis Drake
--------------------​------------

Disturb us, Lord, when We are too well pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we have dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.

Disturb us, Lord, when
With the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
We have allowed our vision
Of the new Heaven to dim.

Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,
To venture on wider seas
Where storms will show your mastery;
Where losing sight of land,
We shall find the stars.
We ask You to push back
The horizons of our hopes;
And to push into the future
In strength, courage, hope, and love. 




If only there was something about hiking in there everything would be perfect, but I did "find the stars". Last night I "cowboy'd" it and slept under the stars with nothing but my pad and sleeping bag. I felt absolutely tiny with the whole forest around me and the universe above, and I even got to see a bunch of shooting stars (one seemed so bright that it could have landed a few miles away). I'll be taking a week off from the trail to head to Camp-of-the-Woods with my family for our annual vacation, but I'll be back in Gorham before I know it to finish the next 110 miles of New Hampshire and 1,800 of the Appalachian Trail. Thank you everyone for your texts and comments! They give me something to think about or laugh at when deep pondering has run its course for the day. Thanks for reading and until next time, God Bless!  

New Friends, Surprises, and Terrible Photography.

So a lot's happened since my last update. I took off from Monson a day ahead of my "Summercamp" friends - it was too early in the journey for me to take a zero (no hiking) day. Hiking the trail by yourself is a different experience. Instead of throwing thoughts back and forth between a friend, you find yourself with no one to complain to, which makes for a very quiet hike.

It would be quiet, I guess, if it weren't for the symphony that accompanies a hike in the Maine forest. I'm not talking about the songs of the birds, the soft breeze through the evergreens, or the movement of a playful deer. I'm referring to a much closer orchestra - the low drone that constantly surrounds your head. First you have the black flies (deer flies). These gems of the forest are by far the most loyal of your winged companions. They will never leave you unless:

1. You end their life with a headache-inducing swat.
2. They achieve their goal and fly away with a piece of your scalp.
3. They leave you for a juicier, less jittery target.

The trick that I try to use (although useless when hiking alone) is to yell out to whoever is hiking in front or behind you, "Did you see that?" Then when they stop to follow where my finger is pointing in the woods I stand real close to them, wait until the fly has locked onto their head, then disengage to a safe distance. "Oh, I thought I saw a deer. Sorry."

Then there is the common mosquito. Until this hike I never appreciated the speed with which a mosquito can travel. Even at a light trot downhill I can look over my shoulder and see a cloud of the bloodthirsty trumpeters in hot pursuit - never further than six inches behind me. And maybe it's just Maine mosquitoes, but apparently they have developed an immunity to deet. Three nights ago I decided I was too tired to set up my tent and slipped into an empty lean-to; trusty bug-spray can at my side. After a few minutes of relentless attacks I brought out the can, spraying a wide perimeter of deet around my head and sleeping bag... It was like squeezing ketchup on a burger. Suffice it to say, ten minutes later I promised myself never again would I be too lazy to set up my bug-proof tent.

And lastly, the assortment of mini-bugs that are to blame for the majority of accidental ingestions and inhalations. These guys will make a direct route to the inside of you ear canals, nostrils, and eyeballs. Even when I have my headphones in they will fly as hard as they can into some part of your ear then ram the headphones trying to find a way in.

With all this going on I've learned that the best defense against this relentless host of attackers is ignorance. I pull my hat low, put in my headphones, keep my mouth closed, and my eyes down. They aren't going anywhere so I might as well learn to coexist. 

Which reminds me...I haven't yet introduced my hat. Besides, we haven't had a picture in a while.

I know...classy.

All this and I haven't gotten to any of the title topics. I can't believe I just wrote five paragraphs on bugs...

So quickly, two days after leaving Monson I ran into this guy named "The Rock". After talking a while I agreed to "walk" with him for the day. This was the biggest mistake/best decision so far on the trip. The mistake was that he was an ultra-marathoner, and trying to keep up with him nearly ended my life on several occasions (luckily I have 9 to spare...). The guy ran up and down Katahdin for crying out loud! The reason it was also the best decision of the trip was that he is a really cool guy and invited me to his parent's hunting cabin located less than a quarter mile off the trail. His mom drove up and made us steak, ribs, potato salad, and the best molasses cookies I have ever eaten. We swam, had a bonfire with s'mores, then fell asleep to Air Force One playing in the background. Rock's nephew came up and in the morning we all set off to hike Bigelow Mountain (after a huge breakfast of course). We called his nephew "Ice Breaker", after he told us he hoped to meet a girl on the mountain. 

The Rock, Ice Breaker, and 9 Lives

Those two decided to spend the night on the mountain, while I continued to hike to a campground near the bottom. We met again in Stratton, from where I am currently writing. Although Rock will be flying by me shortly, on pace to finish in 3 months, hopefully we can keep in touch. I am forever grateful to both he and his parents for their humbling hospitality and kindness shown to me.

I'll end this post with a segment I like to call Things that make me shake my head on the trail.

1. Finding moose scat on the tops of mountains. Seriously. When does a moose find time in its day to hike a mountain?? Isn't it busy doing important moose stuff like avoiding hunters and cameras? There's absolutely nothing for them to eat up there, and don't tell me they need their exercise. This never ceases to astound me.
2. The trail-makers. Imagine yourself walking along a beautiful lake. Nice, right? Unless you're on the AT. In this case you will go back and forth between walking next to the lake, then hiking away from it to go up a random hill a couple hundred yards away, then hiking back to it - in a zig-zag pattern. There's plenty of open woods to make the trail go straight if you're going to follow the lake anyway. I guess they just needed to stuff more miles onto the trail. Not bitter, just confused.
3. The Roaming Dude. Dude carries a 55 pound pack, has three mobile devices (all with backup chargers), and carries his food sack in his hands...which he throws in front of him. He doesn't filter his water, but he is on facebook, twitter, and youtube.
4. Fire-tower Arsonists. C'mon, there's no reason to do this. 

     5. My inability to capture on camera any semblance of life faster than a toad. A moose, a deer, a fox, a rabbit, several squirrels, numerous snakes, and an owl. I'm so disappointed I'm not even going to show you the toad.

I'm sure to have more of these by next time...

I was going to do a whole post on Northbound and Southbound hiker relations, but that can wait for another day. I also want to detail my gear at some point but for now, I'll end with a few pictures...

Me and the Kennebec River ferryman. When I asked for his name he responded, "Kennebec River Ferryman".

Yes, I am hiking mountains, too.

One way or another...

I'll leave you with a "live-update" video I made last night. Mind you, I was a little out of it when I made it...well, you can probably see for yourself. For those of you who made it all the way through this, Thanks! God bless!

LIVE from Monson, ME!

The view from the backside of Katahdin.

I write to you from the Lakeshore House Hostel in Monson, Maine - 114.5 miles into my Appalachian Trail thru-hike. This place is sweet - internet access, a real bed, tacos. I'm halfway through a half gallon of strawberry ice cream as I write this post. I'm going to try to stay awake long enough to write a decent post; my sleeping schedule has altered quite a bit, to say the least.

I'll start from the beginning: All went well with the ascent of Katahdin - EDokk and I cruised up and down without much drama.In fact, due to the lack of a pack and the addition of adrenaline, it has been the easiest summit so far. We got up there on a great weather day, as you can see from the picture above (as you'll begin to notice, I'm really enjoying the panoramic setting on my camera - I just feel like I'm not really capturing the whole setting if I'm not using it.) Anyway, for a non-panoramic photo, here's EDokk and I at the top.

Thanks E, wouldn't have been the same without you.

So here's what an average day looks like so far (and probably won't change too much for the rest of the trip.) I wake up between 4-6AM, eat, hike until about 4-6PM, eat, then go to bed around 7 or 8. There's not a whole lot else to think about other than how far to walk. So far, I've been going between 10 and 18 miles per day - depending on elevation and soreness levels. I've found that I feel every mile that I hike - I can't just "cruise through" a three mile section of the trail. When you're hiking over mountains (sometimes four consecutively) the going is slow, and it might take over two hours to hike a single mile.

I should mention that I haven't been hiking alone. After hiking down Katahdin I ran into a bunch of guys that are heading down to Georgia too. There's "Frog Morton" and "Moose Head" from Tennessee, "Smooth Sailing" from Georgia, and then "Aussie" from down under, as you probably could have guessed. These are their trail names, which have been given based on something that happened on the trail or some distinct quality about them.

My trail name was "Cotton" for a little while, due to the cotton socks I wore for the first few days which gave me huge blisters. That was before the group realized my incredible penchant for wiping out. I've slipped on more roots, rocks, logs, and mud pits on the trail than I have in my entire life. I once took my boots off to ford a river, then slipped on a rock and ate it - soaking everything I had on me. Another time I slipped backwards off a log at a swimming hole and landed directly in the center of a ring of sharp rocks. An inch either way and my trip would have ended with a cracked skull or back, but thankfully I walked away with a little cut on my foot. For instances like these I have been dubbed "9 Lives" - and I'm probably down to 6 at this point for the rest of the trail.

We've dubbed ourselves "Team Summercamp" due to the camplike structure we have right now - the more experienced hiker "Smooth Sailing" is our camp counselor. I'll have to break off from the group when Kristen comes to hike with me in 9 days, but for now we're just hanging out and having a great time.

9 Lives, Smooth Sailing, Moose Head, Frog Morton, and Aussie.

Here comes the most tragic part of the trip so far. Maybe four days ago we were walking together in a group when Frog turns around and yells "MOOSE!" I had been waiting for this since the first day I thought about walking the trail. I looked up and saw a bull moose just standing there, thirty feet in front of me on the trail. It was awesome. I didn't freeze. Instead, I looked down to take out my camera, tripped on a root, and crashed to the ground. The moose ran away before I even got up. Photo opportunity ruined. Still plenty of Maine left, I guess.

I'm exhausted so I'll leave you with a few choice photos.

Here's your generic looking into the sunset shot.

A shot from the top of the fire tower on Barren Mountain. I carved my initials into an old piece of wood at the top.

And lastly, a sign you won't find in any restaurant. I crushed a 1 lb burger.

My group wants to take a zero day (no hiking) in Monson tomorrow, but I might push on ahead. It all depends on my feet/knee conditions. I'm excited for Kristen to join me in just over a week! Once again, i'll talk to you all again when I get the opportunity. Until then, thanks for reading and God Bless!

And...He's off!!

This is kmh signing in to update that tph has begun his trek!  He and erd just left on their way to ME for Mt. Katahdin.  Here are a few photos of the send off.

 

Family photo.

 

 K, T, and E

Lookin' good and ready:)

Go Tim!!

Here. We. Go.

Pretty happy with myself for finally finishing packing early this morning.

It's finally here.

No more planning. No more research. No longer do school or work stand in the way of the adventure that I've been planning for the past year (and change). I'm too excited to be nervous. I'm too cocky to be worried - or so I've been told. I'll work on that, but nothing can put a damper on the knowledge that later today I will be starting a multi-month journey amidst the best that God's creation has to offer. For weeks now people have been giving me this furrowed-brow look when I tell them I'm walking to Georgia by myself. This is almost always followed by a calculated question such as:

• What happens when you run out of water in the middle of nowhere?
• What happens if you run into a bear?
• What will you do if you run into a moose?
• Only two pairs of boxers???

The answers to these well-meaning questions are (in order):

• I have a water filtration system, and am never more than a few miles from water or a town.
• Depending on which book I trust I will either play dead, run away, or attack the bear. Great.
• Ride it.
• Yes.

After I assure them that changes of clothing are unnecessary because everyone else on the trail will smell as badly as I will, they lose the look and are excited for me. Some say they wish they could do something like this but can't due to [work/school/money/etc.]. It's true that I am greatly blessed to be in a position where I can go off for 4-6 months without any major consequences. I think this trip will be as important as a job would be for my future in different ways. For several months all I have to worry about is which campsite I want to pitch my tent at, and would I rather have the freeze dried lasagna or the freeze dried meatloaf? With all this free head-space I'll be able to toss around the big ideas, work on my writing, and be with God on His turf with no distractions. As they say, "Climbing mountains is the equivalent of churchgoing." (For more transcendental hiking quotes like this, please click here.) 

I'm also just excited to tackle the challenge of walking 2000ish miles, 5 million steps, whatever you want to call it. It's going to be really hard, and things that are difficult generally give you both a new perspective and a better idea of who you are as a person. Like Calvin's dad always told him in the comic strip, "It'll build character." Except I'm bringing this upon myself, but no matter...

So here's the plan for the next few days:

Later this morning I drive with E-Dokk to the base of Mount Katahdin in Maine, the first of many peaks that I will summit in the next several months. We'll camp there tonight then hike it on Wednesday.  Eric will hike one more day with me on the AT, then send me on my way. 

I'm not sure how many updates I'm going to be able to provide while in Maine. I don't have a computer, fancy phone, or anything else they have these days to get onto the internet, so I'll have to rely on libraries and other internet-laden facilities. And Maine has two of those along the trail. Goody. I'll see what I can do, but in the meantime please enjoy the polls on the right side of your screen. For the weight poll, my starting weight is 187.6lbs. And keep in mind I will NOT be counting the week I spend in Speculator, NY with my family at Camp-of-the-Woods towards my total day count for Maine or the entire AT. For those who are calling foul-play on this one, the week lost on conditioning will far outweigh and benefits of rest received. I'll try to add a new poll every once in a while to give you a reason to come back. I'll also be taking pictures and will try to incorporate some of them into my updates.

For anyone who is interested in what the Appalachian Trail looks like, or wants to get an idea of where I'll be at any point in time, go to this great interactive map. Thanks for reading and God Bless!

I'll try to update again soon, and if I don't it's probably because I tried to ride a moose...

I'm so freaking excited! Maine, here I come!