A thank you.

This one is hard.  Earlier today I received the news that a battle buddy of mine had taken his own life.  He's gone.  Just gone.  I will never see him in this life again.  As another brother rather elegantly put it "One of my brothers lost the war that we all fight everyday since being home."

I attempted to write a long post to explain what it's like coming home from a war zone and the challenges it takes to readjust to a suddenly purposeless life.  But I couldn't.  So I just want to say Thank You to everyone who donated to Hike for Heroes.  Hopefully your generosity will ease a future warrior's pain and help them win their war.

The following people all donated to Hike for Heroes:

Anne Carpenter
Mike & Sylvia Collins
Don Jacobs
Susan Ware
Scott Boelscher
Megan Poulette
Ray Spitz
Deb Ison
Mike Kranis
Doris Ison
Robert Van Meter
Betty and Larry Gingerich
Janice Wolod
Judy Hart
Debbie Mille
Earth Tone
Stephanie Hart
Carol Reichmuth
Junior Tidal

If I missed anyone I apologize.

Gear.

I'm writing this in a coffee shop as opposed to sitting in my house surrounded by my gear, as I'd intended, but I've got a few minutes so I'll take advantage of what time I have. This is going to be as honest as I can make this, which won't be hard since no one offered me financial compensation for using any of their gear, sadly. I don't think the gear companies realized how cheaply I could have been bought. 

I suppose I'll start off with the most important item on a thru-hike. The shoes. There were a ridiculous variety of shoes people wore on the trail. The styles ran the gamut from heavy traditional boots to sandals. Trail runners were the most common choice, though brands varied widely. I myself mostly wore the Merrell Proterra Mids. Which my reviewing is mostly moot since they quit making them after one year. But my first, third, and fourth pairs were all mids, with a pair of lows as the second pair because I couldn't find mids. I had 970 miles on the first pair, and the fourth pair is still going strong, but I got around 4-500 miles on each of the second and third pairs. Besides their scarcity, the only real issue I had with them was their traction left a little to be desired, particularly in mud. 

Next were the pants, but I can't recall the specific models. I started with Ex Officio, and they were probably my favorite pair. They were still going strong but as I dropped weight they became way too large, and I switched to some Eddie Bauer's. They also held up fairly well, though there were some seams starting to come apart when I out-shrunk them. Next were some Mountain Hardwear pants. All of these were convertible, by the way. That pair didn't really hold together as well, but to be fair I put them through some rather severe abuse. The seat ripped open while I was crawling through the Mahoosuc Notch, much to Rugby's chagrin (who was following me). I ended up wearing these the rest of the way, despite their additional ventilation. Didn't come across any stores, and my rudimentary sewing attempts didn't hold. Luckily I had pretty underwear. 

Which were Ex Officio at the time. Good stuff, but not if you're bigger. Started out with these, while I still had the extra weight I'd gained for the trail, and the chafing was pretty bad. Real bad. Had to switch to Underarmour compression shorts, which solved the problem and worked really well, but were not exactly ideal when the weather warmed up. So I went with the UA 9" boxers, which I would recommend. Still were warmer than I'd prefer, and I eventually switched back to the Ex Officios after dropping enough weight that the chafing was no longer an issue. 

I'd definitely put too much weight on before starting the trail, by the way. If you have a single digit body fat percentage, you might consider gaining 10 lbs, but the 20+ I gained was detrimental. My wife looked at me before I left and said "You got fat." Blunt, but she was right. I just kept saying "I'll walk it off," which was accurate (lost 47 pounds total) but definitely made the beginning more challenging. I don't recommend my approach. 

I switched shirts periodically. Any synthetic shirt will be sufficient, though I started with an UA cold weather long sleeve shirt that was way too heavy. I thought it looked good, though, and it was a gift, so it was free. Once the weather warmed up I sent it home. I also switched my t-shirt to a cotton Ex Officio shirt that was supposedly bug repellent. I suppose it might have been effective towards the beginning, but by the end of the trail I watched mosquitoes bite me through it. The cotton kept down the stench, however, and people repeatedly made the comment to me that I didn't smell like a thru-hiker. This made me happy. I did keep a synthetic shirt just in case there was a significant temperature drop, so I wouldn't die. 

My down jacket was Eddie Bauer. From their Ascent line. They make good stuff but you have to make sure you actually shop their technical line. Lifetime guarantee and cheaper than most comparable items. No frills though, and could have used a couple more amenities on it, though. Shipped this guy home when it warmed up also. 

For rain gear I started with a poncho I already owned. It was sufficient until the seams started leaking. I rarely wore rain gear, especially when the temps rose, but I picked up an Eddie Bauer rain jacket (on sale). It worked, but wish it had pit zips. I used it more often for warmth and as a wind breaker than a rain jacket. I would plunk the money down for a nice one and started with it, if I had it to do over. 

I used a fleece beanie from my Army days. Also got some Buffs, which were very useful. One was also supposedly bug resistant, and I think it sort of worked. At least nothing bit me through it. 

I used numerous brands of socks. For the winter I used Ingenius, because I already had several pairs. They worked quite well, but I don't even know if they make them anymore. Smartwool also  did well for me. I switched to Darn Tough for summer wear. I liked them a lot, and they also have a lifetime guarantee, which I intend to utilize. I've been told Smartwool will also replace socks for free, but I haven't tried it. 

Clothes done, so sleeping system. I started with a 15deg Cats Meow bag from North Face. Pretty nice bag when I bought it, 10 years ago. A little heavy. Worked fairly well, but I don't like mummy bags. I feel too constrained in them and there's too much sweat in unpleasant places. But it did keep me warm and alive during some very, very cold nights. Plus since it was synthetic I wasn't terrified of getting it wet. 

I also had a silk liner, which I really liked. It kept the inside of my bag clean (the liner was much easier to wash) as well as adding noticeable warmth. It also came in useful when staying at establishments where I questioned their cleanliness (looking at you, Doyle). I eventually ordered a 30deg down camping quilt from Enlightened Eqipment, a piece of equipment that I fell in love with. I would sleep with it now if my wife wouldn't object. For a short time I switched to just my poncho liner, but that proved to be a terrible decision the farther I moved north, so I went back to my quilt. 

I had a Big Agnes Insulated Air Core for the trip, a fairly common choice. Every single person I knew had the same issues, however. The pad was very comfortable and warm, but it was loud. Movement on it was pretty annoying to other people. Plus it took forever to blow up. But the real killer was that it developed a slow leak. I had mine replaced twice, and everyone I know replaced it multiple times. On the plus side, Big Agnes was very easy to work with on the returns, and made the ordeal as easy as possible. For weekend camping or shorter trips, I would still recommend the Air Core. For a thru-hike, try something else. Lot of people had good luck with the Neo-air. I eventually just shipped my Air Core home and used just my poncho as a groundsheet. Geared Up was doing that, so I figured I'd try. Worked for me, though a terrible idea in cold weather. 

My tent was the Double Rainbow from Tarptent, a two person single wall that weighed about 2 pounds. I liked the extra room, and can't imagine having less. This was a fairly popular tent on the trail, with the Tarptent brand and Big Agnes making up the majority of tents. Never heard a bad word about the BA tents, but I was happy. I had a small issue with my tent when I ripped a replaceable piece, but they sent me a replacement free. 

For dry bags I used Sea-to-summit compression dry bags, which were awesome during the winter months. Once I switched from my bulky gear, the compression was useless to me and the straps became excess. I considered just getting new dry bags, but I spent enough money on the trip already. The dry bags were for my clothing and quilt. I found pack covers mostly useless, though opinions vary, and I lined my pack with a compactor bag, which lasted the while trip and kept my gear dry. Though the pack always got soaked. 

Which brings me to the pack. Sigh. So torn. Oh Granite Gear, how I want to recommend your Blaze AC 60. It was comfortable, the pack material was durable, and I liked its design. Lightweight, around 2 pounds, and I was in love with this pack from the first review. But the first blush of love blinded me to Blaze's faults. The frame was, to put it mildly, weak. The plastic stay that functioned as the frame broke on me three times. On three separate occasions I had to contact Granite Gear.  Each time they were more than accommodating, but it always entailed an additional trip to a PO, plus walking with a broken pack, because I couldn't just sit and wait for the part to arrive. Each person I met with this pack had the same issue. So while I still will recommend the company itself (their customer service truly was outstanding), and I've never heard anything negative about their other products, I would stay away from the Blaze, at least until they fix the frame. 

I'm sure I'm missing some items, but those were the biggies. Hope this has been somewhat useful. If you have specific questions, feel free to shoot them to me. I'll try to add photos later. 

The end.

On Tuesday, the 12th of August, I summited Mt. Katahdin, completing my 2014 Appalachian Trail Thru-hike. That is 2185.3 miles of official trail, plus a considerable amount of additional trails.

The climb up Mt Katahdin was not easy. I won't say it was the hardest climb on the trail, but it was definitely top tier. It was more scramble than hike, with several quite sketchy areas. I think I would have enjoyed it more if my full pack didn't keep threatening to knock me off the boulders/cliffs. As it was, it was just one last hurdle. 

The climb was only 5 miles, but it took me several hours to ascend. I'd gotten a "late" start that morning (0600), so the other thru-hikers (Flossie, Grey Squirrel, Peppa, Hyperbole, Sassafras, Chef, Alpine Pirate, and Johnny Utah) were already up there. A few meters from the top I asked if anybody knew where the Appalachian Trail went. As I walked the last few feet, they broke into cheers and applause. Not gonna lie, that was a good moment. 

But not as good for me as for other people. Some people were describing the mountain as sacred.  Several people were crying. I was trying to figure out the best route down. I mean, I was happy, but I didn't quite have that immense overwhelming satisfaction most of the others seemed to have. It took me a lot of introspection to decide why. And then a while to decide to mention it, and how to do so. Which is why this post is so long in coming. 

I think that for many people, maybe most, hiking the Appalachian Trail is the most challenging thing, mentally and physically, that they will ever undertake. To complete it can be validation, passing the test that they've put before them. The Appalachian Trail is an incredible test of oneself, but it is not the most mentally, physically, and spiritually challenging thing I've ever done. Not even close. 

That honor belongs to the Korengal Valley. Battle Company understands. No single day of the trail was as physically demanding as some of those patrols, when I would carry as much as four times as much weight as I did on the trail.  Roughing it? I had more amenities during the last several months than I did during that deployment. We had no electricity there, but on the trail I could charge my phone every few days. Heck, I had a phone. In the Korengal I had to volunteer for an extra foot patrol to get to a phone. No one I knew on the trail was killed or wounded. And the AT was only 5 1/2 months long, not 15. 

I don't mean to imply that the trail was easy. It wasn't. But I had accomplished my goals for myself within a couple of months, and I kept hiking because that's what you do. Finish what you start. Quitting was never something that seriously crossed my mind. Several times I wished I'd never started, and there were times when I sort of fantasized about getting an injury that wasn't quite serious, but debilitating enough to get me off the trail. But even when I was hating life, I knew I was still going on. 

So I guess that's why, when I summited, I was happy, but not ecstatic. But I did have a good time on the mountain. One gentleman, a former section-hiker, gave me a necklace. He claimed it was "magic." I asked what kind of magic, and he replied "You'll have to find out." So I asked if it was good magic or bad magic, and he replied the same way. That's a little worrisome. So now I own an unknown magic necklace. This didn't work out so well for Frodo. 

I hiked down a different trail, still challenging, but nowhere near as nerve-wracking as going down the way I came up. Of course, I sprained my ankle.  Not bad, but painful and annoying. Considered taking pain medicine, but hadn't so far on the trail so figured I could sick it up. At the parking lot, met a nice couple from Ohio who gave me a ride all the way to Bangor, where my flight was taking off the next day. 

And for those curious, in the last register, I wrote ...Dary! Thus completing what I believe is the longest "Legen...wait for it...dary!" ever. Beat that Neil Patrick Harris. 

I was sad I didn't get to see a lot of the hikers I'd grown to know and love, but I have most of their contact info and I've already been in touch with quite a few. But I'm happy to be home. I'll probably do a gear review and general advice/what worked for me in a few days, but reintegrating into real life is rather hectic. And it's frustrating that I have to find a bathroom when I need to pee. 

Hope it was worth the wait. 

Halfway up. 

Finally eating my kimchi. Wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Thanks Stakes!

The August 12th thru-hikers. 

My last AT selfie. 

The 100 mile wilderness

I have been rushed over the last several days. The whole getting sick thing kinda messed up my schedule. Got into Monson too late to resupply, so I had to spend the night there. It's kind of traditional to zero there, as leaving there is the beginning of the 100 Mile Wilderness (cue dramatic music). But I didn't have time, so after spending the night at the Lakeshore hostel, I resupplied in the morning at Pete's Place, ate breakfast there and talked to the locals for a while. I like Maniacs. They are good people. The owners were telling me about their attempt to cross the United States by horse power several years ago. Very fascinating people. 

I also saw a lot of people I hadn't seen in quite a while. Sunbear was there, who I'd caught up with, and so were Cheeseburger, Baggie, Treefrog, and Squirrel (the male one), who had all flip flopped and were now heading south. 

Got a late start to the trail, about 11:30. Not auspicious since I was planning on really pushing the pace. The "recommended" time frame for the wilderness was 10 days. I was trying for four. The first day I got 16 miles. 

The next wasn't much better, slightly more than 20. But then I was getting over the steeper mountains, supposedly. So I figured I'd make up more time the next day. I didn't. The terrain in the wilderness was much rougher than I expected. Twenty miles on the 3rd day, but I did catch Sisyfus and Ketchup, so that was cool to see them again. After rolling into a shelter right at dark, I talked with Iron Will and figured I'd get up early the next morning. 

As in I started hiking at 0430. I had twenty miles in by around noon. I was crushing. But then I came across a mountain where I had cell phone signal. A very rare thing for an AT&T customer in Maine, so I called my wife and talked with her for a long time. Long enough to completely stiffen up. The rest of the day went much more slowly, and of course then I hit Little Bowman Mt. I think that was the name. The path had become beautiful, a gorgeous smooth walk in the woods, but the trail had been rerouted in 2010, and not in a good way. It was just a horrible, horrible section of trail. Anyway, it finally ended, but I had a long way to go still. 

I walked until after midnight, quite pleasantly actually. The super moon or blood moon or whatever it's called was out, and it lit up the sky rather prettily. At 38.6 miles (my biggest day of the trail), I came to the Rainbow Ledges, wide swathes of open rock with a view of Katahdin. Even illuminated solely by moonlight they were beautiful. And flat spots are sometimes hard to find, so I rolled out my poncho and quilt and went to sleep there, to the music of coyotes and what I assume were moose bugling. 

In the morning I ate my last pop tarts, and then picked some blueberries from the bushes surrounding the ledges, and then moved off to finish the last few miles of the Wilderness. Abol campground is more or less the end, and I reached it less than 48 hours after leaving Monson, so I count that as a win.  They also have a small camp store and restaraunt there. Chef was there waiting for the restaraunt to open, and Hyperboe and Sassafras joined us later. I considered trying to get a ride into Millinocket, but decided I didn't need to since I was going to be camping at the base of Katahdin that night. 

The food was good, but the walk took a while. Easy lovely hiking, smooth trail, along a river with several waterfalls. But I was tired. So I walked slow. Sixteen more miles, ten of which were after Abol heading to the Birches, the shelters/tent sites reserved for thru-hikers. 

The end was nigh. But I didn't really think about it much. I had a plane flight home scheduled for Wednesday and it was then Monday, with an intention to summit on Tuesday. So I was mostly worried about the deadline. 

At the Birches was a pretty good group. Chef, Hyperbole and Sassafras were of course there, but Peppa, her dad (Wayman), and Flossie and Grey Squirrel, were there. I hadn't seen any of them in quite a while, Flossie and Grey Squirrel since Elusive's picnic in Maryland. Tatianna, Lyons, Alpine Pirate, and Johnny Utah were all also planning on summiting Tuesday also, but they were staying in Millinocket. Oh, and I forgot to mention that Dino left me a note in the last shelter before the Birches, documenting my apparent new nickname. 

Lady Moose started calling me Sparkle Toes. I have no idea why, but she stayed with it. This obviously didn't really bother me (I say obvious because I was named by a little girl), but apparently that became the way any of the ladies in that particular group would refer to me. So Dino drew me as a pony with very sparkly "toes."  

Sunbear, me, and Squirrel. 

I don't have to listen to you!

There was a lot of bizarre things left in the Wilderness, including these boots in very good shape. With the exception of a backpack, I could have acquired all of my backpacking gear from abandoned equipment in this stretch. 

Some pretty places. 

More loveliness. 

Pretty pond. 

Me before acquiring toes. 

Finally getting mileage.

Got my 25 miles today, though it took me all day. Good hiking. Reasonably nice trail, only a little (relatively) elevation change. This is the stuff I think of when I think of hiking. Feet are killing me, though. It's late, and I'm at a shelter with Purpleblaze and Cowboy, and Cornwall is in a hammock. Lot of Quebec people around in tents. Long day, short post. 

Pretty. 

Lot of "ponds" in ME. 

Not so pretty. 

The Bigelows. And 2000 miles.

The Bigelows are pretty much the last big hurdle before Katahdin. There are some bumps in the terrain, but it looks mostly smooth sailing. Which is good, because I have to crush some mileage. 

This morning was still recovery for me. I had the room at the White Wolf until eleven, and I was going to maximize my investment. Lying in bed in the morning is such a luxury. I eventually went downstairs for breakfast, where I had an omelette and French toast. The omelette was great, the French toast okay. That stuffed me, so I went grocery shopping. Stratton is a rather tiny town, with 600+ residents. The area the hotels and hostel were located in was centrally located, and they all had chairs and benches facing Main Street. Hikers were in all of them, it seemed. 

I ran into a lot of people I knew this morning. Mr. Jingles and Dr. Zoom (who told me Naked Ninja was also there, but sick), and a bunch I hadn't seen in forever. Cool Hand and Stumbles were there, and very happily for me, so was Sunbear. I was pretty happy to see him. 

If you ever go to Stratton, eat at the "Diner." That's its name, but it's a little more sophisticated than that. They've got some sort of Cordon Bleu chef, or something that sounded snobby like that. In any case, great food. 

Sidenote, apparently whatever bug I had had also made a lot of people in Stratton sick a few weeks back. I blame sobos. I have no basis for that, but I'm going to anyway. 

Hiking today was pretty good. The Bigelows are quite lovely, and while steep and challenging, they're not quite as bad as southern Maine. Ran into Purpleblaze also, hadn't seen her since Elusive's picnic in Maryland. Eight miles today, but going to attempt 25 tomorrow. Should be okay if I get an early enough start. 

Oh yeah, 2000 miles today. 

Stunning view A

Stunning view B. 

Stunning view C. 

Stunning view D. 

Stunning view E. 

So I've been sick.

And lazy. And tired. And demoralized. Rough couple of days. Got sick leaving Rangeley. 

The morning started off great, I felt wonderful and the strongest I'd felt since the beginning of the Whites. I also ran into Tatianna and Lyons, and hiked with them all morning. Tatianna took a rather terrifying face first fall. Bloodied her nose and chipped a tooth, but she's a regular badass and walked it off. I like them and was looking forward to hiking with them for a while, but my stomach started hurting around lunchtime. At first I thought I was hungry. I was incorrect. 

Anyway, the second half of the day went rather poorly. I don't think you need the details, but I decided to call it an early day. Especially since it was gonna rain.  Except when I got to the shelter I'd decided to stop at, it was full of Sobos. A group of 9 of them who were hiking together. I was irrationally irritated. I blame it on my sickness. So I started hiking on. Like 5 feet from the shelter the rain started. I found an old abandoned tarp that was suspended, and I huddled under it until the hail stopped. That was the beginning of my low point for the trail, shivering, staring at the raindrops and hail stones splashing in the puddles. Freezing. 

When the rain stopped, I decided to move on. Mostly because I was freezing. I walked...or stumbled... about a mile before I found a spot to set my tent up. Which happened to be covered by moose poop. I sighed. Or would have, but my teeth were chattering too much. So I found a different spot, and dragged my drenched carcass inside my tent. Where I shivered uncontrollably for a while, mixed with cramping in my legs, since I hadn't been able to keep any water down. That was a bad night. 

In the morning, I felt much better, just drained. I didn't get out of my tent until after 0900. I felt much better, but so incredibly weak. I had to force myself to eat. I did about 15 miles, and had to call it quits for the day. The mountains were destroying me. I figured the next day would be okay. I was wrong again. 

I felt great, until that first hill. I couldn't get my legs to move. They were leaden, and I had to force them up each rise. These weren't tiny little hills. Not as bad as some mountains we'd seen, but still plenty bad. I did 8 miles into Stratton, where I had a bit of luck. Peppa's dad, who I hadn't met, was at the trailhead and gave me a ride into town. I got myself a room in the White Wolf, ate a Wolfburger (trail legend), took a shower and did laundry, and am currently feeling sort of human. 

Couldn't find any sewing shops or outfitters, so my shorts are going to stay ripped. Unpleasant for anyone walking behind me, I imagine. Also got some bad news, Hard-to-Kill is getting off the trail. I guess Maine has been rough on him, too.   He made it to Andover, which is a pretty impressive feat, anyway you look at it. I know a lot of people just skipped the next section of Maine by yellow blazing. It's been a demoralizing beast. 

If I didn't have a schedule, I'd be enjoying Maine. Some days. Other days, it's just "I can't wait to get this over." Almost there. There have been some great moments, they're just a little overshadowed right now by the less great ones. Really hoping I'm recovered by tomorrow, as I don't have time for any sort of recovery. 

The Mahoosuc Notch. Ate my water bottle. It was this tough the whole way. 

All you can eat and drink pizza night at the Little Red Hen. Rugby and Big Tex suitably stoic for Brits. 

Caribou's sketch of me. I look Greek. 

Yep. Weather's great in ME. 

This was possibly the best view of the whole trip. Wish the photo did it justice. Of course, a whole lot of people drove there. 

Look who I ran into in Rangely!

Tatiana and Lyons. 

When I thought I was hungry. 

When I thought I was dying.