Hiker Hunger

There is this unwritten law on the trail that nobody shares food, which makes sense because thru-hikers can't afford the cost or the weight of food to be giving it out. I on the other hand do not abide by this rule as my hiker hunger has yet to set in which could be due to nerves, excitement or the excessive exercise curbing my appetite. I guess it makes me a bit of a trail angle, but I have been giving out snicker bars, Ramen, dried fruit and spice packets because I don't want to carry the extra weight (especially since I have not been consuming it) and I have been doing this free of charge or trade. Although, a few days ago Nobo (slang for North Bounder), Dutch, asked if he could trade me a pop tart for 5 packets of oatmeal. Fair trade. Done. Does this earned me a set of wings and a golden band above my kaput?...I think so :).

The other day, this thru-hiker, we call him, Spice Rack, was making himself some tea to give him that caffeine boost needed to jumpstart his hiker legs.

"Is that a raspberry blend?" I asked

"It's pomegranate...hmmm...I think this is the last bag I have," he lamented.

"Oh, it's ok," I said thinking it was sweet that he would have given me a bag had he had one.

"Oh, I wasn't offering," he laughed.

Then we all laughed, Cunu, Nurse Beka, and Soldier. That made my morning.

At one of the hiker hostels I sat across from Buritto and watched him in awe as he stuffed a meatless sub into his crave cave. I felt like I was watching Natgeo or Discovery, today's show was featuring a snake, only instead of a gazelle it was choking down an enormous sub. The muscles in his neck tightening and relaxing, a continuous eb and flow of bite and swallow without a break for air. Or had he developed a way to breathe through his skin? I did not see his arms drop until the food he cradled in his hands disappeared completely into the abyss of his unhinged jaws.

Another night I spent in a lean-too and over the course of an hour, every time I looked at Nobo, Rambler, he was eating. First a meat and cheese wrap, than a Mountain House meal. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me when I saw him downing another meat and cheese wrap and then another Mountain House. He would eat the wrap by the fire, both hands cupping the soft protein and fat filled dough, his cheeks full, teeth churning, his eyes darting left and right. He looked like a looked like a skiddish chipmunk guarding his nut.Then he would eat the mountain house meals in the lean-too.

Think of the scene in Nemo where the crab is brought to the surface and all of the seagulls start saying, "Mine, mine, mine." Thru-hikers take food seriously. A thru-hiker is, however, whiling to give advice, support, motrin, duct tape, and rubbing alcohol but with all the calories they are expending any bit of food is as necessary and needed almost as frequently as oxygen.

Heel! My Heel needs to Heal

"The term “Achilles heel” has come to mean a person’s principle weakness (Wiki)"; I am experiencing that weakness now.

The Achilles tendon connects the calf muscles to the heel bone. When you put your thumb and fore finger on mine you feel it creak like a hinge that needs some WD-40 as I point and flex my foot.

So as it turns out, you can get injured whether or not you wear shoes. I wore my shoes and experienced knee pains and blisters, took them off and now the knees feel great but I have tendonitis. This is my own fault though, I should have trained.

You see my calf muscles are pumping all day long as I hike, up and down mountains, across rivers and through the mud, and without adequate stretching (which I have failed to do), the muscle can become tight causing the Achilles tendon to be over-stretched and experience more work as my heels continue to pound out miles. As this cycle of tightening and pounding is continued, the tendon becomes less flexible and inflamed and can snap just like an overstretched rubber band.

The webpage I’m reading now, http://www.time-to-run.com/injuries/thebig5/achilles.htm, suggests that I stop, drop, put my leg up and roll the knotted tissue, apply ice, take an anti-inflammatory, avoid weight-bearing activities, stretch and swim.

In other words I cannot hike until this clears up.

So for the next week or two or three, or however long it takes for my heel to heal I will get you up to speed as to what I have experienced on the trail thus far. Then we can hit the trail together, on the same page.

My heart is heavy as I miss the trail life. I had to say goodbye to people that I started to connect with, the pure air, the cool mud on my bare feet, the weight of my pack on my shoulders reminding me that my body was getting hard and toned, and to my spirit which sits quietly in the lean-too where it refused to follow me. 

This greyhound bus is taking me back to the smog and the fog of the civilian life of cement. It’s hard to describe what I have experienced on the trail so far, but it’s an experience that makes you not miss your life at home. As I look out the window and see the cars pass by, the billboards and concrete, I see the simplicity of my life slipping away and I feel a hole in my chest that throbs.

The diesel engines, the din of the tires spinning, the trees become a streak of paint from a brush and an absent stroke. People in their individual cabs, tuned out by the radio, the traffic, the schedules, go, go, go! So quickly we get from point A to point B but do we really ever get to know where we are going, or are we just going through the motions? 

Money Pit

I was making a mental tally of all of the money I could have saved if I spoke to an oracle prior to my trail departure. If I had known that my boots were going to give me blisters and I was going to hike barefoot, I could have saved $235 between the Asolos, the superfeet, and the waterproof spray. If I had known that I was going to lose one hiking pole in the Nesowadnehunk River the second day (after getting caught in the current and being swept down river) and that I was going to ditch the remaining pole while hiking through a thunder storm the 8th day for fear of getting struck by lightening, I could have saved another $85. Had I known I would not be able to eat the foods that I bought in bulk for five months in a row and used all of this money to restock in trail towns, I could have saved $1,000 (this one really hurts).

Oh well, I am trekking and learning every step of the way.

Some things that are key:

Toilet paper
knife
head lamp
ointment (takes care of chafing)
Bug net
Matches
Birch Bark (to get the fires started)

Barefoot Hiking

On day three between the four blisters that had developed and Naysayers words, you're going to have so many blisters that by the time you get to Massachusetts you'll get off the trail, playing over and over again in my head I decided to take my Asolos off and give hiking in my smart wool socks a go. It felt great! And much better on my knee which was giving me trouble ever since Katahdin. My knee injury stemmed from over a year ago when my friend Steve and I had the bright idea to hike the Wapak trail (22 miles) in one day. Ever since then I have had knee issues going downhill. The following day I took the socks off and hiked in "Mysolos".

Three days later I wake up to see three new people in the lean-too. We exchanged names and why we were hiking the trail. Out of nowhere Aubry said/asked, "you're the barefoot hiker?!" I looked down at my fly bitten and dirt-caked feet and said, "Well, I didn't do it to hike barefoot, initially I took off my boots," Aubry cut me off, "because you were getting blisters, we know because they told us at White House Landing." 

White House Landing is a hiker hostel/resupply diamond in the rough 45 miles from Mount Katahdin. I went there to restock. You hike 1.2 miles off the trail around a lake, sound the air horn one short blast and wait on the boat dock for your pick-up. Bill and and son Ben came and got me and I was able to resupply in the camp store. He asked where my shoes were and I explained that I was getting blisters.

"We have been following your tracks for 3 days now, we couldn't wait to meet you!" she exclaimed. I was shocked, I laughed and said that today was day four. 

That same day I met Natalie and Jake and after a short conversation she looked down and said, "Oh, you're the barefoot hiker...we heard about you."

Two days ago, I happened upon two Northbounders who were resting at the blue blaze to the lean-too. I hiked to the lean-too and after an hour a hiker couple showed up. "So you're Dutch," she said to the guy next to me, "and are you barefoot?" "Well, yes I guess I am," I laughed. Apparently, Chainsaw, told them that I was the barefoot hiker.

So I guess I have made a bit of a name for myself. And now I want to hike it on through.

Now after a week of hiking my soles have toughened quite a bit.When I first began, my feet were very tender going through pine sections; about every three steps I would wince and have to pull pine needles out of the bottom of my foot. I would stub my toes and step on sharp sticks. Now I can comfortably walk through these sections with little pain. 

Originally I wanted to hike the trail barefoot but then I gave into $170 gortex Asolo boots as well as the $35 super feet insoles. Now I am making my own super feet. 

I dropped the box

So, not only was I ill prepared with bug and potty protection I also made a bit of a mistake with my diet. I had my parents pick me up so that I could fix my boxes. So, yes, I got off the trail and went home to take care of business. Some of my beef jerky spoiled. I don't know what I was thinking, but I opened the packages and distributed the leathers in plastic baggies but it says right on the $10 packages that it's only edible for 5 days after opening and I was banking on their freshness for five months.

I gave the good bags to my brother-in-law and told him to give them out to everyone he knows.
I'm also not a big fan of the lentils and the veggie soup which has a sickeningly sweet sent. If I could do it over again I would have saved all of the money I spent on food that I bought and bulk and just bought food in the trail towns. Oh well, you live and learn. Knor meals and Mac'n'cheese are way more appetizing.

I like the snickers, gorp, fruit and Ramen, but I wasn't eating the oatmeal, lentils and veggie soup. I know I will get sick of snickers but I'll continue to have my sister send them to me, after all thru-hikers take part in the barter and trade system. Just the other week I traded 2 snickers bars for a pasta meal with home dehydrated marinara sauce.

What to Doo?

Now for a little bathroom talk. There are privies at every lean-too which are spaced every 10-12 miles along the AT but I have opted for digging a hole and squatting rather than dumping a load in a wooden box that smells not so fresh.  I may have been wrong about the smooth stone as an alternative to TP; a conclusion I came to after trying the technology out on day two.

Originally wanted to use natural resources, so as to reduce my carbon footprint, but since privies are so frequently spaced on the trail I won't have to burry TP but just toss it in the privy which is expected.

The privy is sort of a scary place; a small wooded shed with a hole cut in the wooden bench, with a deep dark and smelly hole plastered with the doos of others. I also have this fear of taking a seat and having a spider crawl up and bite me on the behind. So, on day two, I found a wooded and private area behind the lean-too, dug my hole, did my business, and used a smooth stone. I was very proud that I had done a doo doo in the woods and that I was utilizing this stone-age technology for clean up until I experienced severe chaffing that night.

From there I tried picked leaves, dead leaves, then I went back to the smooth stone, but nothing seemed to complete the job. Now that I have spent a bit of time in the wilderness with several nights of chafing in a row, I know what I need, what I don't need and what I need more of. Alas, I have caved and decided that there will be a roll of toilet paper in my pack from now on.

Bugger Off!

Going out on a limb with bug patrol.

Maine is wet, boggy, and infested with bugs...but spirits are high because I am actually following my 2,181 mile goal.The day of my departure, several hours before my parents drove me up to Maine to be released into the wild, Drew Blood and Scout came over to bid farewell, stuff me with calories and give me last minute tips...I have awesome friends.

"Now don't take offense to this but you know not to sleep with any food in your tent, right?"

"Yes."

"Are your belongings in waterproof stuff sacks?"

"Errr...compression sacks."

"Line your bag with a trash bag...it's the old-school way."

"What are you doing about bugs?"

"I have a bug net."

"No bug spray?!"

Scout gave me a little mercy bottle of DEET and told me I may need it.

See, I have this thing against bug spray. Not only do I doubt it's claim, I also think it's bad for the skin to be absorbing all those harmful chemicals. After all, I have been called Jilly-Bug by those who love me and so it makes sense I stray away from the spray.

Well I took the bottle anyways, just like I stowed the bottle of motrin in my first aid just to appease the ones who care. I try not to take even the legal drugs so that they will really work when I absolutely need their assistance.

So back to the muck, I have tried everything for the past week to keep the blood suckers from snacking without a squirt from the DEET. I may have lost some blood but I have not lost my will power.

Day 1 I used my head net which I soon found out was a mosquito net after I noticed the black flies coming in for a lunch hour special of neck and ear flesh.

I then took the net off and waved it back-and-forth in front of my face and this worked but I was only able to use one hiking pole. I must have looked funny, picture me fanning my face with a net, stabilizing myself with one hand gripping a pole, spitting the bugs out that slipped passed and slapping the ones that bit my neck, while balancing myself on a puncheon.

Next...don't laugh...I secured a pine branch to my head with a bandanna because my little brother told me once that bugs tend to feed at the highest point. The branch stemmed about a foot above my head and it seemed to work but it was kind of uncomfortable.

Finally, on day 5 I was able to get a new net of finer mesh at a place called White House Landing, a privately owned camp run by Bill and Linda Ware, found in the middle of the 100 miles of wilderness. You hike 1.2 miles off the AT to a boat dock, sound the air horn one short blast and wait for your pick-up by Bill and his son for a ride to a microcosm of civilization. Along with the bug net, I stocked up of Mac'n'Cheese, a block of cheddar and Knor meals.

I was incredibly happy with my purchases until a few miles back on the white blaze corridor I noticed the black flies still slipping though to snack on my flesh. I was frustrated but at least the mosquitoes were not able to attack; I saw their stingers poking and prodding unable to fit their fat bodies through the portals.

They were able to draw blood from my hands like a hundred tiny syringes but I wrapped my hands with bandannas and this seemed to work.

The bugs should be dissipating in July.

That bottle of DEET weighs as much as it did the day I left.