Don't Look Away...Here Comes the Trainwreck

Last week kicked off with a touch of drama--my first so far on the trail, but certainly not the last. One fact of life on the AT is that many folks come to the trail to escape, to make a major life-change, to shed their old skin and take on a wholly new identity. In most cases, those folks also happen to have some experience backpacking or in the outdoors. In other instances, not so much. Some people see a place with no mortgages or bills or taxes or authority figures. A place where every 8-10 miles, you can have a roof over your head for free; in every town a hiker box awaits, filled with castoff treasures and excess ramen noodles. There are certainly people on the trail who have lost jobs and houses and families. And there are those who mooch their way along the trail, bumming rides and rooms and meals from other hikers and kind folks in town.
When I arrived at the shelter on Friday, I met some weekend hikers who had stayed there the previous night and were staying another evening. They let me know that there was a lady in the shelter who had blown chunks all over during the night. Awesome. As a chain-reaction puker, this is the last thing I want to hear. So I check on her--non-responsive, but clearly sleeping hard. Fortunately, no barf to be seen or smelled. The shelter, however, was scattered with an assortment of wildly inappropriate gear, including some sort of bizarre, hibachi-like stove.
I heard from the others at the shelter that her companion had headed toward the Hike Inn, seeking a room for the evening. On a beautiful spring Friday, though, there was no room to be found. I intercepted him on the trail and confirmed some of the intell I had gathered at the shelter: they had taken the bus from Portland, Oregon, and she planned to thru-hike. They had never hiked or backpacked or anything even remotely similar ever before.
Another tiny piece of info from the other shelter residents--the sick lady had very recently kicked a heroin habit. Things that make you go "Hmmmm...."
When I returned to the shelter, she was upright, vocal, and very interested in going into town. After offering up some phone numbers for shelter drivers, they informed me that someone on the trail had stolen their phone. Really? Stealing doesn't occur that often among (actual) thru-hikers--carrying someone else's stuff doesn't hold much appeal. So I helpfully offered to make some calls, to the delight of the guys still staying there. After I escorted them to the shuttle, it was a quiet, uneventful evening.
As for the epilogue: talking with the shuttle driver a couple of days later, I learned that withdrawal was almost certainly a factor. As soon as they hit the paved road, they were trying to find out where to buy a bottle. So the first on-trail drama, defused.
More good stories await from last week, to be told tomorrow evening. So stay tuned.

Home Sweet Home, by day...

and by night.

The most useless piece of gear on the trail.

Stretching at Stover Creek.

Every day an adventure

Week two on the trail was much busier. The AT Kickoff festival at Amicalola fired up lots of folks to start. There were lots of speakers, including Gene Espy, the second man to thru-hike the entire trail--in 1951. He is quite a character and a terrific storyteller. Best of all, he still has most of his gear, which he brought to show the audience. Unbelievable how much it has all changed!

Meet Zeus, a rescued Great Horned Owl, in the
raptor education program at Amicalola Falls
State Park.

Hanging with Miss Janet, Trail Angel Extraordinaire, at the
Kickoff festival.

Better weather over the weekend really helped all the hikers starting out, in contrast to the brutal cold the previous week. Sunday was absolutely glorious and I spent the day on the summit, talking to aspiring thru-hikers and dayhikers alike, a total of over 170 people in all. Unfortunately, Monday was a different story, with pea-soup fog shrouding the mountain. When I went to the parking lot to charge my phone in the car, the visibility down the road was nil. Hikers arriving were a bit confused as to where the trail headed out of the lot, so I stationed myself there to help direct traffic.

Once again, I met a host of cool folks. And a quick update from last post--I ran into the vet I met last week on Friday. He was a bit aimless and apparently REALLY unhappy with the cold conditions. When I left him, he was planning to head into town, to either get some warmer gear or to wait for warmer weather. We'll see....
The first hiker I met on Sunday was Jesse, a Marine, hiking with his PTSD service dog, Cooper. His wife--also a Marine--was dropping them off. We spoke for a while about gear and other concerns. Jesse is raising funds for several veterans' charities. Please check him and Cooper out at www.warriorsbestfriend.com. He'll be posting videos, including the "Cooper-cam," all throughout their journey.

Jesse and his wife, with Cooper.
Springer Mountain parking area.

I also met Gone Walkin, celebrating his 40th trail anniversary. He's starting his second thru-hike, after completing the first in 1973! We also chatted about the differences in gear and services, and while not as extreme as Gene Espy, they're certainly significant. Possibly the funniest part to me is the fact that he took advantage of a new product, just introduced that year--Ziploc bags! Any of you with backpacking experience know that you can't leave home without the Ziplocs. I felt like I should have bought stock in the company as we were preparing for our hike--every size bag scattered all over the house.

I'll finish my post with a teachable moment. As I hiked along the Approach Trail on Tuesday, I came upon a fire ring with a little shrine erected next to it. A little shrine to seafood. Apparently, some erstwhile hiker realized that SIX ginormous cans of tiny shrimp are really heavy. So they stacked them neatly and moved on. Two issues here: first, who in the hell eats shrimp out of a can? Second, the other hikers coming along behind you are not going to stop and go "Score! I'm taking this canned shrimp with me! How awesome that someone left it here!" No, it's up to the ridgerunners and trail maintainers to carry your unwanted nastiness down to the trash can. Remember, everyone: Leave No Trace! If you packed it in, PLEASE pack it out!

Tiny shrimp. Heavy cans.

A very good place to start....

The very beginning. Well, at least for the vast majority of thru-hikers, Georgia and Springer Mountain are the start of the AT. Not so for Pancho and Nachita, of course. We opted to begin in Virginia and to finish in Georgia, wanting to hike home. So it's particularly interesting for me to be here at the start. Since I'm stationed at Springer and also patrolling the Approach Trail, I get to meet people on their first, at most second, day on the trail. I've definitely thought a great deal about our first day over the last week, recalling how we were feeling and struggling and determining to persevere.

And it has been especially difficult for a lot of folks heading out, due to the frigid temps and snow. Many have simply been unprepared for the weather and have already headed for home--part of the large number of thru-hikers that never make it out of Georgia.

I think that is what I've enjoyed most so far, being a witness to such a big day for all of these hikers, the day they head out on one of the greatest, most transformative experiences of their lives. Some are excited, others nervous and apprehensive. Some just blow by in such a focused rush, eyes already locked on the summit of Katahdin.

I've already met some memorable folks. The very first thru-hiker, on my first day: Deidre, struggling up a hill on the Approach Trail, looking soft and not-so fit, with her freshly buzzed hair. But as we chatted, the thing that struck me was her quiet determination, the sense of "I shake my fist at whatever the trail throws my way." And with that very first conversation, I realized how much I want to know what happens for these fellow travelers, even though I likely never will. How great it would be to see Deidre in 6 months, perched triumphantly atop that sign on Katahdin, dirtier and wearier, with thighs like rocks and a neverending grin. A photo that she will treasure forever, because she accomplished something no one ever thought she could. And I just keep hoping that she made it through the cold and the snow, that she's still trudging along slowly--but getting faster and stronger with every step.

On Sunday, Pancho came to hike with me--Take Your Husband to Work Day. It was bitterly cold, with snow on the trail in the morning. But late in the day, we came upon a hiker resting on the side of the trail, dressed in full camo, with military gear. As we chatted, he revealed that he was a veteran suffering from PTSD, or simply mental illness according to the military. He had received little to no support from either his family or the military and had dropped out of college, probably due to learning disabilities. He seemed mainly to be searching for something to do--something useful, and meaningful to someone. As he told us, he is good at carrying loads for long distances and dealing with foreigners. So the trail seemed as good a place as any. Will he make it to Maine? I'm not sure. But I'm also not sure that what he's looking for is necessarily in Maine. I saw him the next morning, heading out from Black Gap shelter. Most of the snow had melted and the sun was shining. He was cheerful, in good spirits, and looking ahead to a day on the trail. I last saw him moving north, smiling and waving. I only hope that he finds his place--somewhere he feels accepted and of use again. Even in our brief conversation, it was obvious how much he sacrificed in his service to our country and that a "thank you" would never suffice.

Best. Job. EVER.

Just so you all know, getting paid to hike and talk to other hikers is AWESOME. I head out on my second patrol tomorrow morning and can't wait.

Welcome to my office. No cubicle for me...

Here's some more info, for those of you who have been asking about logistics. I am the Caretaker on Springer Mountain, the southern terminus of the AT. There is also a Ridgerunner in Georgia--Rhea "Razor" Patrick. As the Ridgerunner, he hikes a section of trail on each patrol, checking on trail conditions, shelter cleanliness and maintenance issues, and keeping track of hikers. I am stationed near the shelter on Springer, monitoring the same elements at the Springer shelter, on the Approach Trail, and the Black Gap shelter just south of Springer. We're both tasked with getting a head-count of hikers--both thru and day--and talking to as many as possible. A primary part of our jobs involves education, keeping hikers informed regarding regulations and conditions on the trail, as well as Leave No Trace principles. And especially in my position, I'm setting the tone for all of the other Ridgerunners and Caretakers up the trail, letting folks know that we're here to help and not to confront them about every little thing.

So I work a 5-on, 2-off schedule, on patrol from Friday to Tuesday, since the majority of thru-hikers head out over the weekend. My first patrol didn't exactly go according to plan, though, due to the wintry weather last weekend. The high winds and extreme low temperatures forced a lot of hikers to abandon the trail within the first couple of days, some with hypothermia. For safety reasons, I did not stay on Springer, instead day hiking on the Approach Trail.

A beautiful snowy day on the Approach Trail.

Fortunately, the weather is getting better and this weekend should be much more pleasant in the mountains. This weekend is also the Appalachian Trail Kick-Off, a hiking festival at Amicalola Falls State Park. There will be a number of presentations Friday evening through Sunday, mostly covering thru-hiking topics. The festival will also be the impetus for a boat-load of folks to start their hike, so I expect to be very busy. If you have the time, please make the drive to Amicalola--there should be lots of fun and informative events, in addition to an opportunity to check out the highest falls east of the Mississippi!

And a beautiful less snowy day....
Here comes spring!