Sunday--March
22, 2009
Trail Day--001
Trail Mile--24.9/0025
Location--Riverdale, North Dakota
What a great benefit to have Gordon's (Gordon Smith)
support again. He came to my home, just like last
year, picked me up, and hauled me up here, to
Stanton, North Dakota, the Knife River Indian
Villages--where I passed during my outbound Lewis
and Clark National Historic Trail hike in '04.
We had time to spare yesterday so we did a bit of
recon on the trail, where I'll be hiking the next
few days. Oh, lots of snow, and industrial mud now
that the temperature is above freezing during the
day. This area of North Dakota has had 100-150
inches of snow this past winter and all of it has
stuck--up until a few days ago.
Gordon also drove me by the Sakakawea South Shore,
where I've many friends. I didn't get to see John
and Renee Lindemann, from Golden Valley, as they're
wintering in New Mexico, nor was I able to track
down Debbi Biffert, a dear friend from Halliday. But
I did spend some time with Allan and Gail Lynch from
Dunn Center, the folks who own the land where is
located the Knife River Flint Quarries. If you
haven't read my account of this remarkable and
historic site, please go back to Odyssey 2006 and
check it out--pretty amazing.
The hike today begins at the Knife River north of
Stanton. From here, it's a roadwalk to the beginning
of the North Country National Scenic Trail at Lake
Sakakawea State Park near Pick City. Gordon has me
to the Indian Villages by eight. I shoot a few
stills, and a video, and I'm off into the cold
wind--and a cold drizzle.
The hike is clicking fine. In a mile or so I stop
for another video shot where the road crosses Knife
River--jammed and flooded with snowmelt and
ice. Here I pause to say a prayer for safe and
successful passage, this odyssey.
By three I'm standing by the sign that marks the
beginning of the North Country Trail at Lake
Sakakawea State Park. Sarah, who's been out to the
overlook with her boyfriend, takes some shots of me
standing by the trail sign.
From the sign, in the park, there's close to two
miles of certified trail. I give it a go for maybe a
couple hundred yards--till I start postholing clean
up to my waist. On down the trail I can see ten foot
drifts--not good. I know that John, Lake Sak Park
Ranger will be disappointed that I was unable to
hike his trail. I did try, John, just too much snow,
like you told me!
Late afternoon I manage the three-mile crossing of
the Garrison Dam--in 40-50 mph winds. Gordon is
waiting at the Honey Hole Convenience Store, on the
hill in Riverdale, where I call it a day.
Back at the little Sakakawea Motel in Pick City,
just enough time for a hot shower before enjoying a
great evening with Wayne and Myra Axtman, more dear
friends from Hazen (Lake Sak South Shore). They
drove up and treated Gordon and I--a grand evening.
It's so good to be on the trail again. The news:
"Two American journalists captured by North Korean
soldiers--Japan mulls missile shield for North
Korean rocket." Sure won't miss the likes of all
this sad news for the next six months.
"I just wanted to do this while I could.
I know it's going to be a hardship financially,
but I probably wouldn't be able to do this when I'm
60."
[Ed Talone, NCT thru-hiker, 1994]
|
Monday--March 23, 2009
Trail Day--002
Trail Mile--24.6/050
Location--Underwood
I've a roadwalk this morning, from Riverdale on up
to the Audubon Wildlife Management Area. While I'm
heading in that direction, Gordon goes ahead to
check conditions for us. In awhile, he's back to
intercept me along the road. "No use hiking up that
way today."Gordon says. "Or anytime soon, for that
matter. Rangers at Audubon tell me the tour route
through is closed, will be until sometime next
month. The road is impassable, with deep drifts
around the dikes."he continues.
Since starting out this morning, the wind has really
come up, and it's turning very cold. Don't know what
the wind chill factor might be for the low thirties
and wind velocities gusting to 40-45 mph, but it
tends to set a definite chill to things.
We'd taken a look at the McClusky Canal, where the
trail passes, on our way up last Saturday. Drove out
to one of the road crossings. Muddy conditions and
drifted snow by the canal cuts.
We've been listening to the weather report and it
isn't good. Blizzard conditions are forecast to
begin late this afternoon. We can see it, it's
coming. Gordon suggests I stick to ND200 and keep
heading east. That's what Ed Talone and Gordon's
sister, Sue, did when finishing their westbound NCT
hike under similar conditions back in October 2004.
So stick to ND200 it is.
By four, the wind is gusting to near 50. The sky is
black--and it COLD. A fellow running an
eighteen-wheeler out of coalmines stops his rig by
me, jumps out, and runs around. "There's a blizzard
coming in. You gotta get off this road and find
shelter." Wide-eyed look on his face. I explain that
Gordon will be picking me up and I'll be okay.
And Gordon comes none too soon. The ranger at
Audubon had told him about a little motel off the
beaten path in Underwood. We head over there. One
room left. Thank you, Lord. We're no sooner in than
the freezing rain begins.
Saw many deer today, more than a few were roadkill. Many
pheasant and grouse, too, along with a roadrunner
and a big fox. Don't know how anything manages to
survive up here in these frozen barrens. I guess the
Canadian geese just don't migrate anymore. They're
everywhere here, thousands of them, all apparently
healthy and happy.
Gordon had done a little grocery shopping for us
before picking me up this evening. Our room is more
of an apartment, complete with separate bedrooms, a
living room, kitchen and dining room. We'll be here,
looks like, for at least two days, perhaps more,
before the roads are open again.
It's late evening now. There's a half-inch of ice on
everything, and the snow is just beginning. Spring
is officially here now, but this ain't it!
|
"The melancholy days are come, the saddest of
the year,
Of wailing winds and naked woods and meadows brown and
sere."
[William Cullen Bryant] |
Tuesday--March 24, 2009
Trail Day--003
Trail Mile--00/050
Location--Underwood
It is daylight, time to lift my pack and go. But
today is no day to be hiking this trail. It's 23
out, wind chill near zero, and the wind is already
gusting to 25 mph--and it's still snowing. In my
pack I am carrying the most minimal of
"three-season" gear. This day is a very
depths-of-winter day, not like those of early
spring.
Forgive me dear friends, but I will not venture
forth this day. I will stay inside where I might
remain warm and dry. Oh yes, I want to go, I do want
to go. What a discouragement, right at the beginning
of this great adventure.
Now is, indeed, the time for patience, the time to
remain confident and strong in both my determination
and my commitment to this great task. Above all, I
must keep a positive attitude, remain resolute of
will.
|
"An inexhaustible good nature is one of the most
precious gifts of heaven,
spreading itself like oil over the troubled sea of
thought,
and keeping the mind smooth and equable in the
roughest weather."
[Washington Irving]
|
Wednesday--March 25, 2009
Trail Day--004
Trail Mile--00/50
Location--Underwood
What a true blessing, being out of this
blizzard. Sid, owner/innkeeper here at Lincoln Park
Motel in Underwood has taken us in. We've been under
his roof for the past two days now and will remain
here for two more, as this storm lingers--more snow,
driven by brutally cold winds. North and South
Dakota are gripped in a weather crisis. Areas are
under national emergency. Rivers are jammed with
snowmelt and ice dams, folks are being displaced
from their homes--a sad situation. Yes, a true
blessing to be in and out of it, to be safe and
secure.
I want nothing more than to head out again,
to follow the wind, whither it may lead, but this
has not been the day to go.
|
"What hope shall we gather, what dreams
shall we sow?
Where the wind calls our wandering footsteps we go.
No love bids us tarry, no joy bids us wait:
The voice of the wind is the voice of our fate."
[Sarojini Naidu]
|
|
Thursday--March 26, 2009
Trail Day--005
Trail Mile--00/050
Location--Underwood
Another day to wait, holed up in Underwood, though
we do make an attempt. I try getting out this
morning, in the wind, the snow, with wind chill
around zero, but turn back due to concern about
Gordon and the van. With street tires it's hard
getting the van to go, and when rolling, it's scary
trying to haul 'er down. The roads have been scraped
but remain pretty much solid ice. We had a half-inch
of freezing rain before the snow came in last
Monday. Over a foot has since accumulated and it's
near white-out again as I write this. US83 is ice,
as is ND200. There's been no sanding or salting,
even at the intersections. Vehicles are in the
ditches along--a very bad situation.
I knew I was rolling the dice, starting this
early. Spring conditions were shaping great until
this blizzard hit--and the forecast isn't rosy, more
bitter cold days, high winds, even more snow. It's
day-to-day. We'll keep our spirits up, knowing the
trail is waiting for us out there--then take a look
at conditions again tomorrow.
|
"Touch passion when it comes your way...It's rare
enough as it is.
Don't walk away when it calls you by name."
[J. Michael Straczynsky]
|
Friday--March 27,2009
Trail Day--006
Trail Mile--48.8/098
Location--ND200, McClusky
No, I'm not hiking 49 miles today. That would be the
total mileage from point A to point B if I stayed
the McClusky Canal rather than ND200. The canal runs
back and forth, sorta like your pup does when you
take him with you to the woods. Today's hike is an
even 25 miles, by road, to near McClusky, half the
canal miles. I have not the winter gear to endure
this depths-of-winter snow. All the county secondary
roads are impassable due to snow, so Gordon would be
unable to get anywhere near the canal. So it's head
east on the highway.
I've decided to stay with the mileages calculated
for my itinerary, for ease of keeping track
day-to-day. I'll deduct the excess off the mileage
at the end. By then there'll probably be many more
miles anyway.
The temperature is in the single digits this
morning. The roads are pure ice, vehicles still in
the ditches. Gordon inches along, finally dropping
me by the side of the road east of Underwood, where
I ended the day, four days ago. It's bitter cold,
but I'm bundled up best I can be, with every layer
of clothing I've got, short sleeve, long sleeve,
down vest, fleece jacket (not in my gear list, but
brought it along just in case--smart move), and my
great new GoLite Goretex jacket.
I'm no sooner on the highway heading east than I
hear this incredible grinding noise. It's a snowplow
coming toward me. I can see it a mile away, the ice
and snow making a great cloud as the plow
approaches. I move to the other side of the road and
manage an amazing video as he passes. Check the
video album in a week or so. I'll be getting this
card off to my Webmaster, CyWiz, tomorrow.
Nothing is moving out here today, no bunnies, no
birdies, no wildlife of any kind.
The sun finally starts melting the sheet of ice
that's built up on the highway, even though 19 is
the high for the day. It is absolutely merciful
there's been no wind. Remarkable, too, the sun has
shone all day. Have managed to keep my core
temperature up, but have become dehydrated. Water in
my water bottle has frozen solid in my belt pouch.
We take a break for lunch at Bev's Cafe in Turtle
Lake, then it's back to the frozen tarmac to hammer
out the afternoon miles. Gordon collects me at six,
five miles west of McClusky. We stay at the neat
little R&H mom-n-pop motel run by Darliss in
McClusky.
|
"People take different roads seeking fulfillment and
happiness.
Just because they're not on your road doesn't mean
they've gotten lost."
[H. Jackson Brown, Jr.]
|
Saturday--March 28, 2009
Trail Day--007
Trail Mile--50.1/148
Location--ND200 west of Goodrich
Another fudge-the-mileage day. The canal runs pretty
much south to north, making little headway
east. ND200 runs east!
We're out at eight-thirty. No sense starting any
earlier in this cold. It's single digits as Gordon
drops me off at Center Avenue, the geographical
middle of North Dakota. The sun's out and the wind
is calm, which makes for a little better
conditions--but not much. Single digits be single
digits!
This roadwalk will be 25 miles again today, to a
point a few miles east of Goodrich.
Before I'm out of North Dakota this time, and with
the miles hammered on ND200 during my L&CNHT treks,
I will have hiked ND200 across nearly the entire
state of North Dakota, from Grassy Butte in the
west, to near the Minnesota State line in the east.
The sun stays with me most of the day. The wind
comes up--and cuts, but not so bad, as it remains
below 20 mph. Another okay day, though unbelievably
cold, up here on these plains of North Dakota.
Oh, I've crossed the McClusky Canal a couple of
times now; got some pictures. Sure glad I decided
not to try and hike along that way--entirely too
much snow to bust through.
Gordon is waiting at mile marker 247, the end of my
25 for the day, and we're back in our snug (and
warm) little room in McClusky by six.
|
"Few people know how to take a walk.
The qualifications are endurance, plain clothes, old
shoes, an eye for nature,
good humor, vast curiosity, good speech, good
silence, and nothing too much."
[Ralph Waldo Emerson]
|
Sunday--March 29, 2009
Trail Day--008
Trail Mile--27.9/176
Location--ND200, Sykeston
This'll be a pretty even-mileage day, roadwalking ND200
compared to wandering along the canals. On the highway
I'll be hammering another 25.
Really great stay in McClusky at R&H Motel, Darliss,
Innkeeper. Gordon drives me the 20 back east and
deposits me on the road right at nine. Not the makings
for a great day. Fog--couple 100 yards visibility is
it. Temperature is 21, and of course, no sun. Looks like
it might burn off, but the fog hangs most of the day,
and when it lifts, well, now it's overcast clouds. Some
wind, out of the east, of course, but not too bad.
At six miles, Gordon is waiting. I walk up looking like
Santa Clause, pure white beard, fully iced up from the
moisture-laden fog. Gordon looks at me-
wide-eyed. "Take my picture, Gordon." He gets a neat
video (just the least unsteady).
Received a nice email from Delores, lives here in North
Dakota--much encouragement. She comments about the first
robins to arrive. Saw one this morning, staggering
around in the snow, post-holing up to his butt. Poor
fellow had a devil of a time getting airborne, problem
de-icing I suppose. Anyway, Delores, thanks for your
kindness--I sure feel much better seeing the robin,
'cause I'm obviously not the only dufus that's arrived
in North Dakota way too early!
By five I've got the 25 done. Gordon collects me a
little west of Sykeston, and we head in to the little
berg. Great local pub. Get permission to park the van
out front. Thanks Kenny. I rearrange things to make room
in the back of the van, and move in. Gordon cranks the
engine, gets the interior nice and toasty. Oh yes, this
is home! |
"...intrepid spirits seek victory over those things that
seem impossible...
It is with an iron will that they embark on the most
daring of all endeavors...
to meet the shadowy future without fear and conquer the
unknown."
[Anon.] |
Monday--March 30,2009
Trail Day--009
Trail Mile--24.8/201
Location--ND200, Carrington
Another equal-mileage day. I'll pound another 25
out, out here on ND200. I'll end the day in
Carrington, pretty much due south of New Rockford,
where the canals end. So, after today, it's pretty
much a roadwalk either way, up there or down here.
A very comfortable night in the van, next the bar in
Sykeston. Got a chance to meet a few of the
locals. One interesting old chap, Alvin, now 80,
discovered the first natural gas pocket here in
North Dakota. It's on his land, well, his son's
land, land that came down through the family. Should
see his eyes light up when he tells the
story--showed us a painting of a pipe sticking out
of the ground, all torched up, huge gas flame. The
find hasn't panned out as of yet, but T. Boone
Pickens, down in Texas, is sure interested. Good
luck with your wells, Alvin. Yup, neat little town,
kind folks.
First order of business this morning is to open up
the Country Cafe. More locals, the klatch, more
fun--and a good breakfast to get me going.
And Gordon finally gets me going, a tad past nine,
about seven miles west of Sykeston.
The hike today, the 25 into and past Carrington, is
setting to be a tough one. Hard wind, very cold,
driving much snow, is quartering me front-left, from
the northeast. Not a pleasant place to be today,
ND200. However, from the report, seems we're
lucky. Just south of us I-94 is closed around
Bismarck, so too, I-29 east of us near Fargo.
The driving snow eases off some by noon, but the
wind remains relentless. I'm unable to breathe
through my mouth, lungs burn, must slow down and
breathe through my nose. Gordon checks on me often,
usually every hour, every three miles or so. More
neat videos today. It's spring, the end of March
now. But you couldn't tell these days from those
more common to the dead of winter. No surprise, not
much being said lately, from that loud congregation,
those who worship at the altar of the Church of
Global Warming.
By five the day has turned from driving snow to
driving sleet. I'm relieved when I reach mile marker
297, the 25s in the bag.
Gordon is waiting. We return to Carrington, the
Stop'n'Go. We're given permission to park the night,
where the big rigs park the night, out back.
|
"I am restless. I am athirst for faraway things.
My soul goes out in a longing to touch the skirt of
the dim distance.
O Great Beyond. O the keen call of the flute."
[Rabindranath Tagore]
|
Tuesday--March
31, 2009
Trail Day--010
Trail Mile--50.3/251
Location--ND200, Glenfield
The roadwalk is certainly much shorter again
today. On ND200, I'll cover only 22 miles.
But as the day progresses, do these 22 miles become
the most difficult extended miles I've ever had to
endure through the cold.
Temperature's started out in the low 20s, with heavy
snow, driven by a northeast wind that quartered me
from the left front--25 per, gusting to the high
30s, all day.
Gordon stayed with me for a few miles, until the
heater fan in the van quit. I continued the road as
he returned to Carrington to have it repaired.
To Glenfield, from where Gordon turned, is 17 miles.
I'm out here in it with no support. I'll not detail
the next five hours for you. Folks don't take much
delight in listening to other's
misadventures. Suffice to say, and no doubt, you'll
find the videos I've managed quite remarkable. I'll
get this latest camera card off to my Webmaster in
the next day or two.
|
"Living one day at a time; Enjoying one moment at a
time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace...
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him forever in the next."
[Reinhold Niebuhr]
|
Wednesday--April 1, 2009
Trail Day--011
Trail Mile--27.9/279
Location--ND1, near Hannaford
The highway miles on ND200 and ND1, from Glenfield
to just north of Hannaford, add up to 24.
Another cold day fighting the wind-driven snow. High
temperatures haven't gotten above freezing for many
days, with nightly lows dropping to the mid
teens. Seems there'll be no sign of spring anytime
soon. Looking for an APRIL FOOL? I'll be yours this
year!
The scene today is pretty much lined-up power poles,
to a dim point on the horizon--when the wind and
snow let up long enough to enable that much
visibility. The sun actually makes a show for a few
short moments, before the gray shroud returns. Not a
great day for hiking the highway, but here it is. I
make the best of it.
Late afternoon, my long eastbound hike o'er ND200
ends as I turn south toward Valley City on ND1. No
shoulder and much traffic. Not the most exciting
place to hike. Aw, come on old man, get your head
straight!
As the wind and driving snow intensify, Gordon
collects me--and another spring day trekking North
Dakota comes to an end.
|
"Ninety percent of this game is half mental."
[Yogi Berra]
|
Thursday--April 2, 2009
Trail Day--012
Trail Mile--49.7/329
Location--CR21/117th Avenue, north of Valley City
We've quit making any attempt to get up and out
early, early being any time before nine. But this
morning is there streaming this strange light--the
sun is shining! So we hustle and Gordon has me back
on the road a little after nine. A cold morning, 22
degrees, but with the sun up and no wind, even at
nine, it's already the most pleasant day.
An hour on the road brings me to Hannaford and the
Stri-King Cafe. Oh yes, we head in for
breakfast--then manage to burn an hour.
A distance south of Hannaford I leave ND1 to head
over to Astabula Crossing, the bridge across
Astabula Lake, some ten miles distant. Here I cross
an official, certified section of the NCT--totally
snowed in. The view from the rim, down to the lake,
is the highlight for this the day, also the climb of
the hike so far, back and up to the rim on the far
side.
In the evening, after a fine 25-miler, we head on
down to Valley City and the Hilltop Truckstop. From
the cafe in Hannaford, I'd sent an email to Deb
Koepplin, NCTA Valley City Chapter contact. She was
able to stop by and we enjoyed the evening together.
|
"The cold is a good counselor, but it is cold."
[Antonio Porchia]
|
Friday--April 3, 2009
Trail Day--013
Trail Mile--22.7/352
Location--CR21, south of Valley City
Breakfast at Hilltop Truckstop. Very cold this
morning, 11 degrees, but I'm out and hiking toward
Valley City a little after nine. It's a virtual
wonderland as I begin, hoar frost on everything, the
grass, the trees, the barb-wire fence lines,
everything. I stop for many pictures.
In awhile a fellow comes from his truck to greet
me. He'd pulled off by one of the half-section
roads. Josh, a local, is interested in what I'm up
to. He's familiar with the NCT, gives me
encouragement--and a handful of tangerine Emergen-C
packets, the same high Vitamin C energy supplement
that Carolyn, my personal trainer, has me taking.
I reach Valley City a little before one, just as a
CPR freight trains is crossing above, from one rim
of the valley to the other, some 100 feet above the
Sheyenne. I cross the Sheyenne River at the north
city limits. The river is really up, nearly over the
road. Not a good sign, as the roadwalk follows the
river along for a number of miles, in the valley
south of Valley City, where the river is crossed a
number of times.
There's a certified section of trail through Valley
City, but it's not accessible. The Sheyenne River is
wreaking havoc to the city. Both sides of the narrow
river have been sandbagged and protected as best can
be with dirt dikes. The pedestrian bridge across the
Sheyenne has sandbags over four feet high blocking
both approaches.
Machinery is everywhere, dump trucks, backhoes,
frontend loaders--the streets and sidewalks are a
muddy mess. Very unsettling for the locals, I'm
sure, as Valley City looks to be a neat, clean town.
I head south, out of town, staying on CR21. There
are five crossings of the Sheyenne between Valley
City and Kathryn. At the first four, the river has
risen to just below the bridge pavement. At the last
one, it's over the bridge.
The road leaves the valley just the other side of
the bridge. I can see the road where it climbs to
the valley rim. But here we are, at the last
crossing, and no go. A four-wheel drive pickup,
local fellow no doubt, ventures on into it. He makes
it through, a distance of some 200 yards, but not
before going in over his hubs. He'd put 'er in
four-wheel drive, a wise decision.
Gordon and I decide no way we're going to try taking
the van through. So, to keep this trek intact, it's
time to do some fording, over and back. I'm in up to
my knees before I know it. The water is freezing
cold, and it's really moving. Seems to take forever
to cross. No feeling in my feet anymore. On dry
land, the other side, I turn quickly, to return,
before changing my mind. I must fight the current
going back. I become very fatigued--and greatly
relieved to get back to the van.
Gordon turns around and we head back to Valley City,
a 30 miler recorded in the journal for today.
In the morning, Gordon will drive around by another
route to get my day started, on the other side of
the bridge.
|
"If you can find a path with no obstacles, it
probably doesn't lead anywhere.
[Frank A. Clark]
|
Saturday--April 4, 2009
Trail Day--014
Trail Mile--22.6/375
Location--SR27, east of Ft. Ransom
The forecast was for more snow overnight, but it
hasn't arrived yet. I say yet, because the day
starts cold, overcast, and windy, a snowy kind of
day up here, so I've learned.
Gordon has figured how to get me to the other side
of the flooded bridge, the one I forded to end the
day last. He has me ready to hike at ten.
The road leads right up and out of the Sheyenne
Valley, to the little village of Kathryn. On the way
I cross a designated section of the NCT, an
abandoned railgrade. I stop to take a few pictures
and get some video footage--and to think about how
all this snow, the flooding, have caused me to pass
a different way. The old grade leads through Kathryn
and back down into the valley of the Sheyenne, not
the place to be hiking right now. You'll understand
what I mean when you see these latest videos in a
week or two--all the flooding. So for now I have no
choice, it's stay the paved roads closest to the
trail, and keep trekking east.
As the day wears on, so too, the weather. It's
turning much colder, the wind now a steady 25 per,
gusting to thirty, not a pleasant situation. It's
another dead-of-winter day here in North Dakota. I
cannot imagine how winter can continue sustaining
itself like this, but here's another day of it. A
blessing, though, for the folks here--the slower all
this ice and snow melts, the less severe will be the
flooding.
Gordon keeps close tabs on me all day, waiting
patiently, making sure I turn at the right
places. By six, with the cold wind really doing a
job on me, I call it a day, another 25. I'm happy
with that. Gordon collects me and we head for the
little mom-n-pop motel in Lisbon. 100-200 deer along
the valley road, an amazing number to see in a
single day.
|
"Past and to come, seems best; things present,
worse.
[Shakespeare]
|
Sunday--March
5, 2009
Trail Day--015
Trail Mile--51.7/427
Location--ND27, Sheyenne National Grasslands,
east of Lisbon
Talked to a local during dinner last, at the Steak
Out next our motel. His family runs cattle on the
Grasslands--the NCT crosses nearby. He was very
familiar with the trail. "No way to hike through
there now," he remarked, "drifted snow, ice,
flooding, too risky--you couldn't find the trail."
Oh my, so okay, way it looks now folks, North Dakota
will be a total roadwalk. I did hike, oh maybe 100
yards of certified trail by the sign at Lake
Sakakawea--that's it!
It's another winter day as we head out, more wind,
more cold. But it's back to the tarmac to keep
hammering east. I'm hiking around nine.
A very difficult day today, the wind, 25-30 per from
the north, the cold, below freezing--again. Since
beginning this trek there's not been a 24-hour cycle
where the temperature's remained above freezing. In
fact, for most of the days, the highs haven't gotten
above freezing. Tends to wear on a fellow. My lips,
my cheeks, badly chapped and sore.
Aw, more whining!
We break in Lisbon for lunch, then it's back to the
cold, driving wind for another six hours.
I hang it up a little after five, 25 for the day,
and we return to Lisbon. Forecast is for more of
the same tomorrow.
|
"For fate has wove the thread of life with pain,
And twins ev'n from birth are Misery and Man!"
[Homer, Odyssey]
|
Monday--April 6, 2009
Trail Day--016
Trail Mile--25.0/452
Location--CR4, Colefax
A fine stay at Island Park Motel in Lisbon; thanks
Theresa!
Breakfast is at Lisbon Cafe, downtown, where we
enjoyed their great Sunday buffet last.
A little before ten, Gordon has me back on ND27 in
the Sheyenne Grasslands. The sun is shining, but it
will prove little benefit this day. We're starting
out with 23 degrees, a north wind grinding across
the ice at 25 per. Nope, the sun will be no help.
The two-mile jog north, from ND27 to CR4, is
wicked. As I turn east again, the wind is
relentless, gusting to well over 30, pushing me
hard. My trekking poles are of little use as the
wind whips them horizontally.
I can remember my first morning eastbound on ND200
near Grassy Range, Odyssey 2006, western North
Dakota--the klatch at the cafe there--one fellow
lamented, "It's too wet to plow, and too windy to
load rocks." It's that kind of day here, my last
full day (for now) in North Dakota.
And so, tomorrow I'll enter Minnesota, leaving this
North Dakota winter behind. But for this NCT
thru-hike, no way I can be finished with North
Dakota. I've hammered some 350+ miles of tarmac, so
for sure I've got the roadwalk done. But as for
trail, those certified sections proudly built and
maintained by the three North Dakota Chapters, NCTA,
I've not set foot on any of them, save a bit of that
short segment in Lake Sak SP. There was just no way
to trek any of them.
And so the dilemma, which is certainly
self-inflicted. I was sure told more than once,
early-on, by folks who know, that I was starting
this trek way too early. But, but, but--spring was
coming along just fine, until the first blizzard
hit, followed by the second. Anyway, how was I to
know this spring would turn out to be the worst in
recorded history for North Dakota? Well okay, so now
what smart guy--who was so set on doing an eastbound
thru-hike o'er the NCT? Hey/hey, the Nomad's got a
plan, folks, that is if he can just hike into some
decent weather soon, say before reaching Ely in a
couple more weeks, then it'll all work out. All's
needed is for summer to creep the least bit into
fall, like winter has now invaded spring--and
everything'll be fine. Late September, early October
I'll have time to return, for the eight or ten days
needed to backfill all the certified section in
North Dakota--which I dearly wish to do.
It's a grueling day on the road today. The north
wind is brutal. I manage to get to Colefax, the
Outpost Bar, and on east to the Colefax Cafe, where
we're permitted to park for the night.
Here are the certified section of North Country
Trail in North Dakota:
1. Lake Sak SP -- 1.8
2. McCluskey Canal -- 73.6
3. Lonetree WMA -- 26.3
4. New Rockford Canal -- 40.3
5. Lake Ashtabula -- 25.6
6. Valley City -- 4.6
7. Ft. Ransom SP -- 2.5
8. Sheyenne Natl. Grasslands -- 25.0
Total certified trail, ND -- 200.0
|
"If all misfortunes were laid in one common heap
whence everyone must take an equal portion,
most people would be content to take their own and
depart."
[Socrates]
|
Tuesday--April 7, 2009
Trail Day--017
Trail Mile--27.5/20/488
Location--West of Rothsay
Got a visit from the sheriff last night around
two. He wasn't aware that we had permission to park
in front of the cafe.
The morning klatch begins rolling in a little after
six. We finally roll out around seven. Warm
greetings from Becky,
owner/cook/waitress/dishwasher, Colfax Cafe. Great
breakfast, fine night's rest--thanks, Becky!
Today is shaping to be much better then yesterday,
but that's not saying much. The sun is up again and
just might warm things a bit. Little wind (thank
you, Lord), temps in the high 20s. I'm hiking before
nine.
Late morning I reach the Red River Bridge at Ft.
Abercrombie and cross from North Dakota to
Minnesota. The plains of North Dakota and the winter
there are now behind me. Hopefully, here in
Minnesota, spring will come soon.
A long, uneventful day hammering the highway. My
legs seem to be coming back under me again, one more
time, a true blessing. Each year, each odyssey, I'm
a year older, so it's ever a concern. I have been
suffering shin splints to a minor extent, some lower
back pain, but otherwise I'm moving into this trek
with no difficulty (save frostbite on my nose and
cheeks, and totally windburned lips).
|
"A violent wind does not outlast the morning;
a squall of rain does not outlast the day.
Such is the course of nature.
And if nature cannot sustain her efforts long,
how much less can man!"
[Lao-Tzu]
|
Wednesday--April 8, 2009
Trail Day--018
Trail Mile--25.6/046/514
Location--CR24, East of Maplewood SP
Many truckers coming and going this morning. We're
into the truckstop for breakfast at 7:30, to a
packed house. I'm back hiking the road to Rothsay a
little after eight. Dense fog, hoar frost on
everything, again, a veritable wonderland--just so
very cold.
The road east, out of Rothsay, is closed due to
flooding. Locals direct us around. The terrain is
changing rapidly now, from the plains, the prairie,
to wooded, rolling hills. It's certainly a welcome
change. There are actually places where the wind
doesn't blow!
Fellow from Fargo's been following my journey,
wanted to meet me. Made arrangements and he came
down and spent the afternoon with us. Ragnar, a
retired postal worker, kind fellow, a fun time.
There's a bit of designated trail in Maplewood SP. I
hike over that way, but then go on past. Western
Minnesota's had lots of snow, and most of it's still
around. No way to hike the park trail; park roads
aren't even plowed. Just keep hammerin' the roads,
old man. Spring'll get here, sooner or later-later.
Legs, knees, feet, all manage the day okay. Back
feels a bit weak and is complaining the least bit,
but I'm very thankful for such remarkable endurance
and strength--for sure a blessing.
Gordon hauls me into Vergas for supper. Ragnar joins
us. We end up parked on a city street for the night,
by Vergas Gas.
|
"Health is the thing that makes you feel that now is
the best time of the year."
[Franklin Pierce Adams]
|
Thursday--April 9, 2009
Trail Day--019
Trail Mile--25.6/072/540
Location--North of Frazee
Weather forecast is for a carbon copy of yesterday,
sun, high in the mid 40s, north wind 8-10. Compared
to what's been dealt us so far, this is glorious
weather.
And so does the day pretty much turn. Wind kicks a
bit harder toward noon, but that's okay, as I take a
short break while passing through Vergas for a
sandwich and a bowl of soup.
Hank, the mayor of Frazee has been in touch, would
like to meet us, do a short interview. He has a room
for us at the motel in Frazee--oh yes, that'll
work. Matt, NCTA Trail Coordinator for Minnesota has
also contacted us and would like to spend some time
this evening.
I get the 25 in a little before six. Gordon loads me
and we head down to Frazee.
Mayor Hank stops by; very enthusiastic about the NCT. He's
an active member. We have a great time. Matt reviews
all my maps for the trail work that's been done in
the Itasca State Forest. He's full of energy and
enthusiasm too--about the future of the North
Country Trail. Great evening.
|
"To be without some of the things you want is an
indispensable part of happiness."
[Bertrand Russell]
|
Friday--April 10, 2009
Trail Day--020
Trail Mile--25.9/098/566
Location--Tamarac NWR
Kind, generous and caring folks in Frazee, Mayor
Hank having set the example. A most quiet, peaceful
night at Morningside Motel--plus breakfast at the
Palace Cafe downtown, all compliments of Mayor
Hank. Barbie, News Reporter, Frazee - Vergas Forum
came with some questions for me. We talked about the
blessings of good health, about life--and a little
about the North Country Trail. Got our picture taken
by the big turkey up on the hill, in the Lion's Club
Park. Yup, great folks, neat town; thanks, Hank!
Talking with Matt last, found out we have many
mutual friends. He and his wife hiked with both
Sheltowee and Slider during their northbound AT trek
in 1998. Also, Kentucky Greybeard, who Sheltowee,
Slider and I hiked with for many days this past
summer served as a ridgerunner along the AT. Matt
was his "boss" at the time! Ah yes, it was great
meeting Matt and sharing trail stories!
By the time we're finished getting our picture with
the turkey--and Gordon has me back on the road, it's
nearly ten. I've a 26 to hammer today, so gotta stay
steady at it. By two we're at the
Headquarters/Visitor's Center, Tamarac National
Wildlife Refuge. I find it well worth the time to
view the exhibits and learn about Tamarac. For
example, I now know that the "Tamarac lies in the
heart of one of the most diverse vegetative
transition zones in North America, where northern
hardwood, coniferous forests and the tall grass
prairie converge." This diverse habitat supports a
remarkable number of birds, over 250 species. Today
I saw a magnificent pair of trumpeter swans, also a
bald eagle.
Randy and Sheila at Tamarac Resort and Campground
welcomed us in the evening.
|
"When
a man can live tranquilly in the out-of-doors,
without fear of anything on earth or in space,
not
because he is a savage, but because he is thoroughly
civilized,
he has
arrived through himself at the ultimate, that is to
say the primal,
having
rid himself of all that is useless and
unserviceable."
[Juan
Ramon Jiminez]
|
Saturday--April 11, 2009
Trail Day--021
Trail Mile--27.1/125/593
Location--Itasca SP
Not so cold last night but still below
freezing. Good to be in the van, not on the
ground--that'll come soon.
The roadwalk is interrupted today by a break for
lunch at Elbow Lake. By early afternoon I reach the
first certified section of trail in Minnesota. It's
new, having been flagged and brushed out with no
blazes up as yet. I head in, into much snow. Slow
going for sure--two hours to cover under four
miles. Doesn't take me long to get lost. I become
confused at a woods road and snowmobile
crossing. Not sure where the trail goes. End up
bushwhacking a few tenths to get to the end of the
section.
Gordon's waiting. I water up and head back in. More
snow than dry trail. Well, actually, there isn't any
dry trail. Where the trail is free of snow and slush
ice, the tread is so sloppy that forward progress is
fretfully slow--same as wading through the snow.
I bail out at Bad Medicine Lake Trail, hike it down
to SR113 where Gordon is waiting patiently. There I
call it a (slow) day.
Two eagle sightings, no photo opportunity but am
sure one will present before I clear the Itasca,
Paul Bunyan and the Chippewa.
We end the day at the Lobo Bar and Grill just
outside the north entrance to Itasca SP. We're
allowed to park out front for the night.
|
"A man who loses his dream is old,
one who has it is perennially young."
[Sigurd Olson]
|
Sunday--April 12, 2009, Easter
Trail Day--022
Trail Mile--00/125/593
Location--Itasca SP (Rustic Inn, Park Rapids)
Being Easter, also being the final day for Gordon to
be with me, the decision is to take a zero.
Out from the Lobo, we head for Itasca SP, source of
the headwaters--where the mighty Mississippi River
begins as the outfall from Lake Itasca. A very quiet
morning; we've got the whole park to ourselves. Even
the Visitor's Center is closed. Just below the lake
outfall, rangers have place a split log across the
fledgling stream, the first bridge across the great
river. Neat place; great photo and video ops.
From Itasca, we roll on down to Park Rapids, to the
Rustic Inn, where we're given a hiker-trash rate for
the night.
What a blessing, being invited to Easter dinner by
Ray and Lynette, to their beautiful home situated on
the shores of Bad Medicine Lake. We're taken in as
family. Ray's mother, Mary, welcomes us, as do
neighbors Gary, John and Karen.
Ray is the Laurentian Chapter contact for the NCTA,
the fastest growing of all the NCTA chapters. We
enjoy an absolutely memorable afternoon. Thanks dear
new friends!
Evening now, and back at the motel, comes time to
move out of the van, load my pack with things I
need, and box up the rest to bounce on up the trail
or send home. Not a pleasant chore, as Gordon will
be leaving me tomorrow. He'd made a promise long ago
to support Troll and his son, Oblivious, as the
youngster sets out to become the youngest triple
crowner. The fourteen-year-old has already hiked the
AT and the PCT. Gordon and his father will be
helping him take on the CDT this year. Good luck,
son; my prayers for a safe, successful and
joy-filled journey go with you.
It's ten before my pack is set with what I need, the
boxed gear separated. Guess I'm as ready as I'll
ever be to head out on my own. Sure gonna miss you
Gordon!
|
"You will never do anything in this world without
courage.
It is the greatest quality of the mind next to
honor."
[Aristotle]
|
Monday--April
13, 2009
Trail Day--023
Trail Mile--29.6/155/623
Location--Paul Bunyan SF, Near Lake George
We're both awake by seven, but neither of us is
moving. This is gonna be a bummer day, no matter how
we shake it--Gordon's leaving this morning after he
puts me back on the trail in Itasca SP.
We manage to get loaded and moving--a bite for
breakfast, a trip to the post office, then the
grocery.
Gordon pulls off the road, by the gate, where the
woodsroad leads back to the trail. Some last busy
talk, a firm handshake, then I turn, lift my pack
and go. I hear him pull away, and in a minute, that
familiar salute, a couple beeps on the old horn,
which always means "Have a great day."
More snow on the trail. Really makes the going
tough, what with some weight in my pack for a
change--probably somewhere around 12-15 pounds with
food and water.
By the time I reach Lake Hernando DeSoto, I'm really
pooped. Ray had mentioned, and I remember him
saying, that this section past DeSoto Lake was the
best of the trail in the Itasca. Doesn't take me
long to realize he's right. A most remarkable
setting, from a high point as it is--and no snow on
the tread (for a change). Gives me a good lift, much
needed.
Buy a little after five I break out of the woods by
the south entrance to the park. From here I head
north on MN71, toward Lake George.
At the Itasca Junction Store I stop to send Matt an
email, as he would like to meet up with me the next
day or so and do a little hiking with the old Nomad.
By seven I've got half the miles to Lake George
completed. So I bail off under the pine for the
evening. Peanut butter sandwiches, and the rest of
the turkey jerky Mayor Hank from Frazee gave me--not
a bad meal at all.
Oh, part of the miles, reflected in the total for
today, would have been the hike up to the headwaters
of the Mississippi and back. Since Gordon drove me
up there yesterday, I was able to hike past that
detour.
Sure gonna miss Gordon not being here at the end of
the day, sure gonna miss him. Ah, but I've long
managed "...that cold, lonesome track," and I'll
find contentment in that solitude once again.
|
"Be able to be alone.
Lose not the advantage of solitude, and the society
of thyself."
[Sir Thomas Browne]
|
Tuesday--April 14, 2009
Trail Day--024
Trail Mile--25.4/180/653
Location--Paul Bunyan SF near MN64
Camp broke, pack up, haulin' by a little after
seven. A
cold morning. Snowing as I enter Lake George.
Head for the Lake George Cafe for breakfast. Great
food, nice folks. Darrel from Walker, one of the
Itasca Moraine members tracks me down. I'd sent an
email to Matt from Itasca Junction last
evening. Matt soon arrives, too. Also Jenny from
Lakeland Public Television, Bemidji comes to get an
interview for the evening news. After, I hike the
road on down to where the trail leaves MN71. Jenny
is there for more footage. Also awaiting my arrival
is Judy Merritt from the Northwoods Press,
in Nevis. In a few
more minutes, Randy, from
Learning-Information-News-Channel 14 arrives to do
another TV interview. It's 11:30 before I'm able to
get on the trail.
The Paul Bunyan has gotten much snow. Toward evening
I'm having much difficulty. The trail is almost
totally covered now, up to a foot or more in some
places. I finally give it up and jump over on
Steamboat Forest Road and hike it on down to MN64.
See many deer today, also tracks left by a turkey
and a wolf. Oh, and what a great sign of
spring--butterflies, lots and lots of butterflies!
|
"April prepares her green traffic light and the
world thinks Go.
[Christopher Morley]
|
Wednesday--April 15, 2009
Trail Day--025
Trail Mile--25.9/206/679
Location--Chippewa NF, near Teepee Lake
Hard frost last night. Tough getting out in it this
morning. The nightly freeze has sure helped the snow
situation though. I can walk right on top of it
without post-holing, that is, until around
nine-thirty.
By eleven I've beat the trail down, over to
MN34. Thumb out, I've got a ride right away with
John and Shirley, to downtown Walker, the
Outdoorsman Cafe. The pulled pork sandwich special
is so good I have two--and drain their coffee pot in
the process. Struck up a conversation with Guy, the
owner. He's Hiker Trash. Just returned from Arkansas
where he hiked some of the Ozark Trail.
Lunch finished, I give Darrel a call. He lives in
Walker. Yesterday he'd offered to help me if needed,
and he's right here to haul me back to the
trail. Time for another interview, with Darrel's
friend, Jeanne, Park Rapids Enterprise. Phone
interview this time--worked fine.
Darrel has me back on the trail by one. He'd asked
me to give Jerry, President, Itasca Moraine Chapter,
a call when I reached MN50. He lives down that way
and is interested in hiking a bit with me. I give
him a call, he comes out and we have a great
time. As we hike along, I learn all about the nearby
rivers, and a bit of history about the discovery of
the Mississippi River headwaters.
Toward evening, the trail really gets mushy. With
the last two day's snowmelt, there's a lot of
flooding on the trail. I finally give it up and hike
the remainder of the evening along Woodtick Trail
Road. Meet some locals out for their evening walk,
Mark and Liz. They give me directions. We have a
fine chat about the carefree life, about following
your dreams.
I Pitch for the evening near (south of) Teepee Lake.
|
"To
believe in yourself and to follow your dreams,
to
have goals in life and a drive to succeed,
and to
surround yourself with the things and the people
that make you happy
this
is success."
[Sasha
Azevedo]
|
Thursday--April 16, 2009
Trail Day--026
Trail Mile--30.5/237/710
Location--Chippewa NF, near CR4
A very cold morning. Hard to leave the warm sleeping
bag to put on wet shoes. finally make it a little
after seven.
A bright, sunny morning warms things quickly. The
last few days I've been able to peel down to my tees
and hike without gloves. Sure hope this weather
holds, that'd be a real blessing
The snow is going, but it ain't gone. Certainly not
the problem it had been, but there's still plenty on
the trail to deal with.
Lots of grouse drumming today. Must have heard or
seen near a hundred. Deer, too. All are out and
moving. No sign of bear yet. Peepers are starting to
sound off in the low areas (and the eastern Chippewa
has plenty of low areas). With the snowmelt, most of
my hiking today is through mud and water, not the
most pleasant of conditions when doing a
long-mileage day.
Sure tired by the time I reach MN4. There's a very
fine high spot under the pine, with water nearby
(water has been constantly nearby).
Tomorrow I'll hike the remaining section of
certified trail on over to MN6, north of Remer.
A long, grueling day. Glad to be in my tent,
content and warm in my sleeping bag. I'm not long
for this world.
|
"Out beyond the lights of town lies a land of
intense wonder and beauty and it is surprisingly
easy for you to step into this world. It's like
you've always lived here in the woods but just
stepped out for a minute or two. Why? Because of
your genetic memory. All of your ancestors were born
here, lived here and died here. Welcome Home!" [Hugh
SOLO Hickman]
|
Friday--April
17, 2009
Trail Day--027
Trail Mile--48.4/285/758
Location--Grand
Rapids
A very mild night for a change
temperature-wise. Much easier getting out and
going. I'm hiking at seven. I've a little less than
11 miles of certified trail left to hike in
Minnesota, on over to MN6 northeast of Remer. I'd
planned on hiking the dead-end section, some
ten-plus miles on past to the southeast, but Matt
said to stop at MN6. Since the trail in Minnesota
will soon (hopefully) turn northeast from Remer, to
go into the Arrowhead and the Superior National
Forest, no more work has been done southeast of
Remer. And so, the very high mileage listed above
for today. I didn't hike that section, but again, in
order to stay with my cumulative mileages listed in
the itinerary, I've included those miles. I'll make
the adjustment at the end.
From my camp just west of CR4, I hike the certified
trail on out, to break out on MN6 at 10:30. A few
yards from the highway, I stop to get a photo of
what I hope will be the last snow along this
trail. Hopefully, by the time I reach the Keck Trail
east of Ely, the snow will be all but gone.
And so, thanks Matt, NCTA Trail Coordinator for
North Dakota and Minnesota, and all dear new NCTA
friends, thanks so much for all your help!
Sure, I'll be hiking much more trail here in
Minnesota, but it won't be North Country.
So much for the solitude of the north woods--I've a
roadwalk on into Grand Rapids, 32 miles for the
day. I'm totally beat by the time I reach town, my
feet quite sore from walking 21 miles of road
shoulder, with wet feet.
|
"Solitude, though it may be silent as light, is like
light,
the mightiest of agencies;
for solitude is essential to man.
All men come into this world alone and leave it
alone."
[Thomas De Quincey]
|
Saturday--April 18, 2009
Trail Day--028
Trail Mile--25.3/310/756
Location--MT, Near Nashwauk
Grand Rapids is THE "Trailtown." Very enjoyable
stay. Reasonable motel rate, a "Hiker Trash" deal
for sure. Restaurant right next. Ten blocks on down
this morning, to downtown--grocery, drug store, post
office right there handy. And by the turn to head up
to the Mesabi Trail, a great mom-n-pop stop for
breakfast. Oh yes, a fine community.
For the next three or four days I'll be hiking the
Mesabi Trail, a paved rail/bike path that leads from
Grand Rapids to Ely (not near finished all the way
to Ely). It passes through the iron ore belt of
Minnesota, the gob piles (that's what they call the
huge mined wasteland in West Virginny)--and the pits
(are the pits). The greater of the iron to make our
ships, tanks and armament for WWII came from this
region. But for the great "Land of Mesabi" we'd all
be speaking German or Japanese today. Kind of sad
passing through, certainly memory-jogging--all the
old rusting remains of the mining era machinery
scattered about, trees growing up through. Huge old
steam shovels, miles of pipe, giant pumps, ore
haulers (Diamond Reo). When was the last time you
saw (a) Diamond Reo. Today, don't we think of
Diamond Rio as more than one--and it ain't a
truck! Don't think they haul rock, guess they just
rock. But why they can't get the spelling right?
A cold, gloomy day, not unfitting. Three cyclists,
all, that's it. By eight I'm just shy of the little
berg of Nashwauk where I pull off in the pine, and
call it a day.
|
"The only thing we can do is play on he one string
we have,
and that is our attitude...
I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me
and 90% how I react to it."
[Charles Swindoll]
|
Sunday--April
19, 2009
Trail Day--029
Trail Mile--27.0/337/783
Location--MT, Near Buhl
Another cold and very gloomy day. My fingers are
sticks before camp is struck. A short hike on into
Nashwauk, to the 24/7 store right on the
trail. Fingers wrap just fine around a steaming hot
cup of coffee--oh yes! Egg biscuit, donut, more
coffee and I'm good to go.
Find my first coin this trip. Afraid I was going to
get skunked, but here it is, a skinned up penny,
right on the trail. I'll save it, mail it home, to
add to my second quart Mason jar of coins picked up
along the trail.
More memories, more melancholy today, brought on by
the moldering old hulks and masses of rusting
machinery scattered about. I was born in '38, so I
was old enough to remember the war. Not many of us
born during those hard times, the clouds of war
looming the horizon. It was sure no baby-boom era.
The war years were rough, not only for our troops
and their families, especially for the families of
those who never returned. My family sacrificed
too. I well remember the rationing. I remember the
mill, a little plastic coin--took ten to make a
penny. The great faith, the profound positive
attitude within my family and our little community,
certainly helped us all cope. The church bells, all
the churches around, ring loud and clear in my
memory, that day the war was finally over.
It's dark when I arrive Buhl. I track down the
little store and go straight to the deli. Hot,
homemade calzone. That does the trick!
I pitch in the cold, dark woods just out of town.
|
"To be worth making at all a journey has to be made
in the mind
as much as in the world of objects and dimensions."
[Ted Simon]
|
Monday--April 20, 2009
Trail Day--030
Trail Mile--27.8/365/811
Location--Lodge at Giants Ridge, MT, Biwabik
I wake early, break camp and get on the trail just
after six. This will be my final day on the Mesabi
Trail, as it is incomplete beyond Biwabik.
A cold, windy day with sleet and snow off
and on in the afternoon. More small communities to
pass, all seemingly passed up by time, Kinney, Mt.
Iron, Gilbert. A little bustle in Virginia, but not
much. The Iron Range has seen many a boom and
bust. Mostly, the bust shows.
By nine after four I'm in Biwabik. I know
the time exactly. The time on the clock in the post
office--through the locked door. Yup, they closed at
four. Had some cards to mail--later.
At Alden's Restaurant I meet Patti and
Alden, the owners, and their son, Brian. They're
closed but Patti takes me in, then stokes me with a
steaming bowl of soup and a fine sandwich, their
gift to boost this trek along. Thanks, friends!
It's five more miles up to Giants Ridge and
the ski and golf facility there. I'd called them
earlier and talked to Sue. They'll take me in--Hiker
Trash rate. Beautiful facility. Sure great to get in
out of it--the sleet and the wind.
|
"Challenges are what make life interesting;
overcoming them is what makes life meaningful."
[Joshua J. Marine]
|
Tuesday--April
21, 2009
Trail Day--031
Trail Mile--29.4/394/840
Location--Superior NF, near Burntside
Absolutely the finest accommodations at Giants Ridge
Resort, friendly folks to boot. Reminds me, on a
slightly smaller scale, of the glorious old lodge at
East Glacier NP, huge timbers (actually whole
trees), which rise vertically and cross-brace,
support the massive structure. With the winter
sports season over and the golf links not yet
completely clear of snow--sure the off season--I
have the place nearly to myself. The restaurant is
closed but a fine continental breakfast has been
set, so I "make do" with that, a few bowls of
cereal, some fruit and muffins. At the front desk, I
get a picture of Sue. She takes mine in front of the
magnificent eagle carving that graces the hall. I
could never have afforded a stay at Glacier (I did
try), but the kind folks here at Giants Ridge Resort
took me in. Thanks, Sue, thanks Jessica, for your
thoughtful kindness; it's been one of the most
memorable stop-overs for me, ever!
Sure no problem lingering. By the time I get my pack
organized then stop a moment to thank Sue, it's
10:30. I've an easy, quiet hike on up Giants Ridge
Road (the Mesabi Trail ends at the lodge) to
MN21. From there it's a short hike over to Four
Corners, a fine restaurant, at MN135, where I take
lunch--hot ham sandwich, mashed spuds and gravy,
chicken potpie soup (um-umm), all polished off with
a full quarter section slice of cherry-rhubarb
pie! I waddle out of the place and head on up toward
Tower.
There has come up a persistent, stiff, cold wind
today, out of the north. Yup, I'm trekking north.
I am much looking forward to reaching Ely tomorrow,
home of Sigurd Olson, my favorite outdoor writer
from the 20th Century. Sigurd had a cabin on
Burntside Lake west of Ely that he named Listening
Point. It is now on the National Register of
Historic Places. I plan to hike by there.
To visit Listening Point, if I can't take a
shortcut, will require an additional six- to
eight-mile roadwalk, plus a backtrack the same
distance. Problem with the shortcut: I'll have to
cross private property, right up a driveway and past
a house. I'd explored this possibility last winter,
looking down from Google Earth. I made a copy of the
aerial and brought it with me, just in case. I had
shown the aerial to Matt, when we met a few weeks
ago in Frazee. He said he had friends in Ely and
would look into it. Well, would you believe, and
this is just incredible, Matt knows the folks who
own the property over which I'd like to
shortcut! He's contacted Steve and Nancy and they've
consented to let me hike across their
place--amazing, just amazing!
And so, tomorrow, I'll take the shortcut to
Listening Point. As for Sig, he wrote about many
things, articles and short stories for the magazine,
Field and Stream. He often mentioned "The Singing
Wilderness." More specifically, he spoke with much
emotion, most eloquently, about "The Pipes of Pan."
When I was young, early-on, I often heard the
pipes. I never really understood. I knew it wasn't
the wind in the pine, the gentle rill of the passing
brook, the bugle of the elk, the call of the
loon--it was none of those. It was a strange call,
always faint, always far away. It was, more than
anything, the lure of the wild, a far off
beckoning--the call of the wilderness, from beyond
the horizon. When with others, when I would hear the
faint, far-off pipes, I would stop and ask my
friends to listen. But alas, their reply was always
the same--"that's just the wind in the trees; that's
just the brook below." But it wasn't. It was the
sound of the pipes--and only I heard them.
When I read Sig's writing, I was vindicated. I found
that I was not the only person tuned in to the
pipes. Thanks, Sig! Since reading your fascinating
stories, I've learned the distinct relationship
between listening and hearing! And, so, tomorrow, I
will visit Listening Point.
By sunset I'm seven miles west of Sudan, well on my
way to Listening Point--and Ely. I pull off in the
pine, pitch for the night, and enjoy the whisper of
the wind.
|
"In some men, the
need for unbroken country, primitive conditions and
intimate contact with the earth is a deeply rooted
cancer gnawing forever at the illusion of contentment
with things as they are. For months or years this hidden
longing may go unnoticed and then, without warning,
flare forth in an all consuming passion that will not
bear denial. Perhaps it is the passing flock of geese in
the spring, perhaps the sound of running water, or the
smell of thawing earth that brings the
transformation. Whatever it is, the need is more than
can be borne with fortitude, and for the good of their
families and friends, and their own particular restless
souls, they head toward the last frontier and escape."
[Sigurd Olson] |
Wednesday--April 22, 2009
Trail Day--032
Trail Mile--04.3/398/844
Location--Ely
I pitched for the night last not 200 yards from a
huge microwave tower--yet I've no signal. I just
don't understand now these cell phones work!
It's a very cold morning and I have a fretful time
getting out and going. Sure got a hitch in my gitty-up;
just can't seem to work it out. The warm sun sure
helps, but the wind is cold, cold.
On a ridge some distance west of Ely I finally pick
up a signal. There's a message from Steve with
directions on how to get across his property.
I'd set a waypoint for his driveway and am now
heading for it. First a turn onto Wolf Lake Road,
then the winding road around, easy enough. At
Steve's driveway I turn to cross the bridge to his
place, over the outfall from Burntside Lake. A trail
leads behind his house some three-quarters of a mile
to the road on Burntside, the site of Listening
Point.
I don't know why I didn't fix a waypoint for Sig's
cabin, but I didn't. There are numerous drives
leading to homes and cabins on the lake, none
marked, save the fire department IDs. Down by the
lake, along one of the many drives, I chance to meet
Chuck. Come to find he's the caretaker for Listening
Point. Had I found the cabin right away, I wouldn't
have met him, nor would I have had the opportunity
to view the inside of Sig's cabin. Thank you, Lord,
for the patience granted. Chuck gives me the tour. I
get to see Sig's duck hunting canoe, his paddles,
his snowshoes. Quite an emotional time. Chuck gets
my picture standing by Sig's old chair, right next
the fireplace. To me, very special. Thanks, Chuck!
By six I've hammered the roadwalk down, on into Ely,
to the Canoe On Inn. Teresa takes pity on the old
Nomad, and sets him up in a fine room (with
a bathtub), at a true Hiker Trash rate. I'm in for
two nights. Yup, gonna burn a day, let the old bones
rest a bit, and get ready for THE wilderness, the
Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness. I'll enter
that great stillness and solitude Friday.
|
"Wilderness should be sacred and quiet, just as the
Indians felt in designing certain places as spirit lands
where no one talked. I have written about the Kawashaway
River country of 'no place between,' where the Indians
always traveled quietly and spoke only in whispers...two
of the greatest values of wilderness travel, solitude
and silence." [Sigurd Olson] |
Thursday--April 23, 2009
Trail Day--033
Trail Mile--00/398/844
Location--Ely
Sheridan is the main drag leading through Ely. Most
of the businesses are located there. Of course, the
post office is hid a couple blocks down a side
street, but other than that, the town's easy enough
to get around in. Great steak house at the top of
the hill, right on Sheridan. Shot right up there
last evening. Neat cafe for breakfast this morning,
block down from the library, just off the main
drag. Yup, Ely's a hiker town!
Piragis Northwoods Company is just down from Canoe
On Inn. Piragis is the Steve I've been talking
about, the fellow who let me cross his land. Big
canoe outfitter, tours here and in Canada, the full
operation. Fully-stocked store. Great folks all. I
met most of them while talking with Steve this
morning--except for Nancy, Steve's wife. Got my
trekking poles repaired (thanks, Aaron!), and a snap
of Steve and me, for their website, taken by
Tim. Also got to meet and chat some with (the other)
Steve, Delana, and Michelle. Steve, all at Piragis
Northwoods Company, thanks for your kindness to this
old man.
The remainder of the day is spent sorting my bounce
box and getting it on to Two Harbors, my next mail
drop. Also washed clothes, worked journal entries,
stopped by the grocery store (right downtown), the
library--and hit the steak house another lick.
A gloriously warm, no-wind, spring day.
|
"The first day of spring is one thing, and the first
spring day is another.
The difference between them is sometimes as great as
a month."
[Henry Van Dyke]
|
Friday--April
24, 2009
Trail Day--034
Trail Mile--23.6/422/868
Location--Kekekabic Trail, Superior NF, Drumstick
Lake
I've had a very restful stay here in Ely, made new
friends and have gotten prepared for the next
segment of this hike, a trek through the Superior
National Forest, the trails being the Kekekabic, the
Border Route, and the Superior.
A stop at the little mom-n-pop for breakfast, a pass
by the post office and I'm hiking east out of
Ely. First stop is at the U. S. Forest Service
Kawishiwi Ranger District offices, Superior National
Forest on MN169. Here, also, at The International
Wolf Center, are the offices for the Boundary Waters
Canoe Area Wilderness, where I'll obtain my permit
to hike through the wilderness. Kevin is the West
Zone Recreation Director. He takes time to explain
the three distinct sections of the Kek, the
westernmost clearcut, the central storm damaged, and
the easternmost burnover. Thanks, Kevin, there will
certainly be some challenging hiking ahead.
Indeed, I've been forewarned by all whom I've spoken
with about the notoriety of the Kek, the destruction
and devastation the trail has suffered over the
years. Last fall, two hikers from Duluth got lost
while attempting to hike the Kek. They were finally
rescued after being reported two days overdue.
To best prepare for this challenge I've equipped
myself with the latest and most comprehensive maps
offered by McKenzie. Also, using my DeLorme
software, backed up by Google Earth, last winter I
painstakingly set waypoints for at least every mile
along the route. Now, and after the long trek out
Fernberg Road, then up Snowbank, I have the
opportunity to check the accuracy of my first
waypoint, which I've set here at the Kek Trailhead
just off Snowbank Road. I find I've fixed the
coordinates dead center in the parking lot; what a
great relief! Now I can rely on my other points
along, many of which I'll no doubt need.
At three I snap a picture of the trail entrance sign
and plunge in. I say plunge because that is
precisely what I must do. Two minutes and my feet
are completely soaked and cold, a harbinger of
what's to come. In a short while I enter the first
clearcut described by Kevin, a waterlogged
pick-up-sticks mess. Had these clearcuts not been
flagged, I'd never have found my way. Between two of
them I enter a "wet" area. A three-plank walkway has
been built some 50 yards through the lowest
part. The entire walkway is covered with 8-10 inches
of snowmelt. I slow to a shuffle to keep from
slipping and going in. The water is frigid and I
lose feeling in my feet.
By late afternoon I'm past the clearcuts and into
the western fringe of the storm damage, an
indescribable maze of blowdowns. Root-wads, huge
masses of roots, rocks and dirt comprise the
landscape. Trees that haven't been blown completely
down have their tops sheared off. And through this
destruction and devastation winds the trail. It's
slow going, over, under, around and through the
blowdowns. Here the treadway is quite evident, easy
enough to follow. With the open canopy, and a few
years aging, underbrush has taken over in
profusion. It's everywhere, even in the very middle
of the trail. Save the fact that I'm back in snow
again (oh yes, one to two feet at regular
intervals), the trail otherwise submerged in
snowmelt, I'm in here at the right time. For, once
this tangle of brush leafs out, no way will it be
possible to find the trail.
It's been a cold, clear day, but by dusk the clouds
move in, it turns very cold--and the rain soon
sets. Near Drumstick Lake I find a reasonably flat,
rock-free spot to pitch. By the time I get settled
and try (with no success) to get my feet warmed up,
the snow has begun.
|
"The Superior
National Forest was established on February 13, 1909 by
President Theodore Roosevelt. One of the largest Forests
in the national forest system, the Superior boasts a
unique and rich legacy that has been largely influenced
by its boreal forest ecosystem and glacially-carved
landscape with myriad inter-connected waterways."
[Superior National Forest Website] |
Saturday--April 25, 2009
Trail Day--035
Trail Mile--21.3/443/889
Location--Kekekabic Trail, Superior NF, west of
Howard Lake
Not an easy task getting out and moving when it's
very cold (think I may have said this on other
occasions), after struggling first thing with wet
socks and shoes. A good dusting of snow throughout
the night; the ground is white all around. More deep
snow on the trail, as much as two feet in
places--persistent now. Where the trail isn't
inundated, the tread is likely submerged in slush
ice and snowmelt. My feet are quickly 32 degrees
again.
Through the Kekekabic Lake area I'm in the thick of
the storm devastation. The going is incredibly slow,
and the tread has become more faint. To stay on
trail I must constantly look for axe or saw
evidence. More often now, that's the only sign. In
many places there is no tread. Also, today I am
faced with some very scary stream fords, what with
the snowmelt runoff at near full tilt. My feet get
hardly a moment's rest from the ice cold water.
Time was, I'm sure, perhaps back in the 90s when Ed
Talone hiked through here, this would have been most
pleasant. But not anymore. I find little redeeming
value, little enjoyment in hiking this trail, and
I've been looking hard. But late afternoon comes the
canyon of the Agamok, and the Agamok Bridge, which
spans the narrow canyon between sheer rock
walls. The roaring thunder of the mighty falls and
rapids can be heard at a great distance. A quite
impressive site I must say, what with the river
running at near flood.
It's been a blessed clear, but cold, day. As the sun
begins setting it turns bitter cold. I've entered
the burnover now--in what's left of the blowdown
area. The fire that consumed these woods was
intense. Nothing much remains but rocks and char,
little dirt. I must pitch directly on the trail to
find a reasonably rock-free spot. It is cold. I am
cold. My feet are very cold.
As soon as I entered this burnt area, the tread,
faint as it was already, became very difficult to
follow. Where I had been relying on axe and saw
evidence, that is now very confusing. It is near
impossible to tell if the ends of charred blowdowns
were cut or if they just burned off--all are round
on the end.
From the little I've seen this evening, I have a
very strong hunch that tomorrow will be one of the
most challenging days ever, anywhere, on any
trail. My GPS has been my faithful and constant
companion, showing the perfect way. On it I can
hopefully continue to rely. I'll trust the Lord
Almighty to the rest. I'm just too cold and
exhausted to worry over it anymore tonight.
|
"The
Boundary Waters was recognized for recreational
opportunities in 1926, named the Superior Roadless Area
in 1938, the BWCA in 1958, and federally designated
under The Wilderness Act in 1964. It wasn't until
October 21, 1978, The Boundary Waters Canoe Area
Wilderness Act was established to provide specific
guidance for managing the million plus acres of the
Superior National Forest." [Superior National Forest
Website] |
Sunday--April 26, 2009
Trail Day--036
Trail Mile--25.5/469/915
Location--Border Route Trail, Superior NF,
Heston's Lodge and Country Store
I am having a very fretful night. It is now barely
pre-dawn. Everything I own is in some stage of
WET. My sleeping bag is a 24-degree down
bag. Despite my diligence, it's been impossible
keeping it dry. As the dampness works it's way in,
the warmth works its way out. What I have now is
probably closer to a 40-degree bag. And to my dismay
(and I know it is well below freezing), as I roll
over, I find my socks and shoes frozen rock solid,
right next to me here in my tent. So, to make
matters even worse, and what I know I must do (but
certainly don't want to do) is bring them in with
me, into my cold, mushy sleeping bag. I quickly find
that what little heat I'm able to generate is
totally absorbed by my shoes and socks. I thrust my
hands in my groin to try and keep them warm. It
takes forever for my socks and shoes to limber up
enough to put on. A strange thing: As I'm into
accomplishing the dreaded task, my feet just don't
seem to complain anymore.
The day dawns clear and bitter cold. The sun on the
horizon (there isn't a thing out here to block it)
brings some blessed warmth. I stand, turn, and
direct my face to it, my black rain pants, black
fleece jacket, black gloves, they soak it in. What
an absolute blessing. It's a painfully slow process
breaking camp with sticks-for-fingers, but I finally
manage, and I'm out and into what I know will be a
memorable, adventure-filled day.
East of Howard Lake, from here, where the trail
might go is pretty much anybody's guess. It's a very
agonizing (say--constant guessing) process, trying
to convince myself that I'm really looking at a
burned off blowdown nub in the middle of nowhere,
not a sawed off one signifying trail.
To interrupt this frustration, and as the sun warms
things the least bit, I take a break, empty my pack
of all its belongings and hang everything on the
brush around me to dry (no problem finding hangers).
As I repack my (two pounds lighter) gear, clouds
loom the horizon. Used to, I'd wonder, when I saw
clouds on the horizon, I'd wonder if they were
coming my way. Really intelligent, eh? Okay, smart
guy, if they weren't coming your way, then how did they get on the horizon to start
with--duh! And so, not long, the sun says bye-bye
and is gone. The day again turns very cold--and the
rain comes once again.
I've my GPS in hand more than in pocket. Without it,
without the aid of following my frequently set
coordinates, their would be no way of traversing
this no-man's-land. And that's exactly what this
place is, a no-man's-land, total desolation, not a
living thing, save the constant, annoying, clinging
tangle of brush. Oh, I have seen repeated sign of
deer, moose, and wolf, their tracks (and poop) in
the snow and on the "trail" along--no bear sign yet
(smart fellows). Where there is any tread to speak
of, it's mostly track maintained by these dwellers
of the woods, as they continue following the
previously man-made path of least
resistance. Tromping down the moose tracks has
greatly aided me through the deepest of the snow, up
to two feet in places. I just must set and adjust to
a very long stride. This causes me to fall a lot, a
LOT. Rocks under the snow, they constantly throw me
off. In the process I manage to break both the lower
and middle sections of my right trekking pole (here,
moose, you try using them), and bung up my right
knee.
It's really hard to say if I've gotten lost any
given time today, or if I've even been off-track the
least bit. Places like, say, above Seahorse Lake and
by Chub River, more than not, there simply is no
trail, an occasional, piddly two- or three-rock
cairn, a scrap of flagging underfoot, or the guess
at a blowdown sawcut--that's it. In these places,
and as I search intently, there's nothing to be seen
but brush, rocks and char, nothing else, no tread,
certainly no evidence that man has ever set foot
here. Yet, as I fix on my next waypoint, perhaps
(for example), the 45-rod portage at Fay Lake, I
read that I am .75 miles west of there at 38
degrees, which places me smack dab on top of the
ridge north of Seahorse, which, at that moment, is
exactly where my McKenzie map shows me to be! And
there is no tread here, nothing, save the jumble of
rock and blowdowns--utter "unspoiled" desolation.
The highlight of this day (ah, and does the Lord not
uplift and provide) is hearing my first loon. And
he/she is mine, as the marvelous bird soon spots me,
lifts from the small patch of open water and flies
gracefully to the top of a tall, blackened snag
overlooking Bingshick Lake, from there to serenade
me for the longest time. I stop, to just watch and
listen, totally entranced. What a confusing call,
one that constantly shifts from mournful to
gleeful. Ah, is this not the true, undeniable call
of the wild? What a great moment, what a wonderful
uplifting moment here in this wilderness! Why is it
we find that nature can be so unmerciful, so
terribly cold and cruel at times? Yet, and at the
same moment, she can be so fickle, so remarkably
warm, gentle, and comforting! Ah yes folks, here is
my payoff, here's my reward for enduring this day,
this "trail," as Mother Nature now welcomes me to
her bosom. Never mind the cold, forget the ice and snow,
forget the flooded trail, forget the rocks and this
charred, pitiful landscape, forget it all. What an
amazing experience, what a spiritually rewarding and
uplifting revelation, a brief glimpse into the
eternal mystery of it all! Yes, this loon, for this
magic moment--this loon is mine.
A few more waypoint fixes, a few more miles of
staggering the puzzle and chaos--through the
constant downpour, and I "emerge" at Gunflint Trail,
the paved road to Grand Marais. It's
five-twelve. I've put the Kekekabic behind me.
|
"Wilderness is more than
lakes, rivers, and timber along the shores, more than
fishing or just camping. It is the sense of the
primeval, of space, solitude, silence and the eternal
mystery...Life in the wilderness, especially when one is
alone, is a continual contemplation and communion with
God and Spirit regarding eternal values." [Sigurd Olson] |
Monday--April 27, 2009
Trail Day--037
Trail Mile--00.0/469/915
Location--Border Route Trail, Superior NF,
Heston's Lodge and Country Store
Heading toward Heston's last, as it grew later and
later, I became concerned more and more that Barb
and Greg would begin worrying about me. The BWCAW is
a bad place to turn up missing (in), or late getting
out of, especially when you've told folks to expect
you. I had figured on reaching the lodge late
morning, certainly by early afternoon. That's what
I'd told Barb. What I didn't know at the time was
what I'd be getting into--the lingering winter
conditions in the wilderness. Barb did say there was
still quite a bit of snow, but I shrugged that
off. I knew it would be slow going, but I hadn't
expected so much snow, along with such an incredible
amount of flooding, the harsh, winter-like weather.
I'd corresponded with Barb on a number of occasions,
early-on. Ed (with the great Border Route Trail
folks) recommended I stop by Heston's on my way
through, and so, my plans. I had called Barb from
Ely last Thursday, the evening before departing for
the Kek. I told her to look for me sometime early
Sunday.
So, there I was yesterday, limping up the highway,
in the cold, rainy gloom of dusk--worrying about
them worrying.
Ah, but wouldn't you know, after half-an-hour, along
came the first vehicle. It slowed, then stopped
right by me. Down went the passenger window, there
the lady's warm smile. "You okay? Need a ride
somewhere?"she asked,"I'm Sue." I explained my
situation, that I'd just come off the Kek and was
headed for Heston's. "It's a long way over
there."she replied. "Sure you don't want a
ride? I'll take you." I thanked her for her
kindness, then asked if she'd mind doing me the
favor of calling Barb as soon as she got home, to
let her know I was out of the wilderness and on my
way to her place. "Yes."her reply. Then a final,
glancing expression: ("You ought to take the ride,
dummy.") and she was gone.
Sue was right, it was a fair distance to Heston's,
the last place up the road, way back on Gunflint
Lake. It was turning dark by the time I arrived;
Barb was watching out the window for me--and was
obviously much relieved.
She and Greg took me right in, sat me down next
their fire. "We'll put you in Tamarack, the cabin
next door. I'll go over and get a fire going for you."she said with a concerned look. "You stay there
and get warm."
When she returned I asked when they'd be going to
town again. "Probably no sooner than Tuesday
afternoon."said Greg. I asked if they'd mind if I
remained till then, to ride in--and they both said,
"Yes."
So, here I am, resting in the little Cabin Tamarack, Heston's, one hiking stick down--and a bummed up
knee.
I was unable to get to sleep until six this morning
due to intense (hit your crazy bone kind of) pain in
both my feet. As soon as I settled in here, I'd
moved a chair in front of the fire, there to prop my
feet. After an hour, the feeling began
returning. That's when I finally realized why they
hadn't complained yesterday morning--they were
saving up for last night! It's late morning now, and
the pain has finally relented. But does there
remain a lingering, tingling feeling in all my
toes. Looks like I may be dealing with some nerve
damage.
So now, wise guy, what's the plan?
If I continue, if I go up on the ridge above
Heston's here, to the Border Route Trail, the only
difference as to conditions will be that I'm out of
most of the blowdowns and the burnover, and I'll be
hiking marked, well-maintained trail. There'll still
be two feet of snow in places along, plus the
ice-cold runoff and flooding. Folks, my feet can't
take any more of this. I can't take any more of
this. Okay, so now what?
Well, after much thought, seems the only way to
salvage this trek is to skip some trail. Sure, I
skipped trail in North Dakota, but at least I hiked
through there. Another degradation, another step
down in the plan now. More compromise in
accomplishing a west-to-east thru-hike o'er the NCT. Well,
it just ain't gonna happen. As to a hoped-for early
spring, favorable hiking conditions--didn't
happen. Rolled the dice--craps!
And so, I'll take the ride down to Grand Marais with
Greg and Barb tomorrow. I'll have Dwinda overnight
another trekking pole and my maps for Two Harbors,
east--to Two Harbors. I'll hitch down there from
Grand Marais--and continue my hike on east from Two
Harbors. Come fall, after Lake Champlain finally
shows up, I'll return and get the Border Route and
the Superior trails hiked out. By then, folks up
here who work the trails will have the Border Route
groomed, and the damage to the Superior (there's
been considerable damage to that trail due to an ice
storm) will, hopefully, be cleaned up. Ah, but then
there'll still be 200 miles of certified trail left
to do in North Dakota! Patience, and a little more
confidence, old man, isn't that what you need right
now!
To set me in the cabin last, Barb put together a bag
of canned goods, some fudge brownies, and a big
square of homemade sourdough bread. Got my energy
back up now and am feeling much better. She also
gave me an Ace bandage to wrap my right knee. Then,
this evening, she and Greg had me over for supper!
Delicious moose burgers, country fries, slaw, beans,
more homemade bread--oh, and I got to meet Addie,
Greg and Barb's lovely daughter. Takes after her
mom. Also a great cook; scrumptious blueberry
cobbler, hadn't she made, from their own berry
stash!
A memorable evening visiting and chatting, as if
this busy family had nothing else to do. Barb
brought out a huge map, one that showed the
progression of the Ham Lake Fire. She explained how
it nearly encircled them, but spared this special
place, this Heston's Lodge--that's been in the
family since early last century.
Gracious, kind, and gentle folks; oh my, yes!
So I'll miss a couple days of hiking. So what? Go
back and review your ditty about the mystery of all
this foolishness, old man. You're forgetting what
it's all about:
|
"It's the
PEOPLE, the places, the pain and the trials.
It's the joy and the blessings that come with the
miles.
It's a calling gone out to a fortunate few,
To wander the fringes of God's hazy blue."
[N. Nomad]
|
Tuesday--April 28, 2009
Trail Day--038
Trail Mile--280/749/1195
Location--Two Harbors
A wonderfully, warm, restful night in
the little Tamarack Cabin at Heston's. The
rack of firewood next the stove has been
taking a major hit. Oh no, I'm not
wasting it, but I've sure kept the
woodstove pumping out the heat. The
little cabin is cozy and very
comfortable. When I told Greg I was flat
going through his firewood, he said,
"Burn it; that's what it's for." So,
time now to load another stick!
The swelling in my right knee has
started going down some. Keeping my feet
up, not jolting and hammering through
the snow and rocks, has been a big
help. I'll be on it some this afternoon
as I hitch from Grand Marais down to Two
Harbors, but the effort won't compare to
my recent ricocheting through the woods
up here.
Time to get my pack together, straighten
up the cabin. The remainder of the
morning I work my journals and get
caught up on way-behind correspondence.
Barb is ready to head for Grand Marais a
little before two. Greg is not going,
nor is Addie, so time for one of those
unavoidable, sad, goodbye moments. Greg,
Addie, thanks for your kindness; I've
had a most memorable stay here at
Heston's Lodge. Barb loads us and we're
off to Grand Marais.
In an hour, we're in downtown Grand
Marais. In an hour, comes again another
no-fun time. Barb takes a couple more
pictures, me by the lakefront--and then
comes a good, solid hug. As I turn, I
blubber out a promise to return to
Heston's again.
Not much traffic on MN61, the state
highway running along the Lake Superior
North Shore. Everything's pretty much
shut down yet, all the seasonal touristy
places. I've my thumb out a half-hour or
more between hitches, each one getting
me down to the next little lakeside
village. By dusk, I've managed it to
Beaver Bay, to the Inn there, where the
kind lady inkeep takes pity on the old
Nomad, cuts him a Hiker Trash
deal.
You may have noticed that in the stats
for this day, I've posted 280 for the
daily mileage. Ha, sure didn't do
280. Actually, didn't do any trail miles
at all today. The 280 represents the
combined mileage for the Border Route
and the Superior Hiking Trail(s), both
of which I am now skipping past due to
unfavorable (say--unhikable) trail
conditions. The Border Route is still
buried in upwards of two feet of snow or
is flooded with snowmelt, and the
Superior is buried by treetops and
blowdowns from a winter ice storm. The
devastation from the ice storm could be
seen yesterday and this morning as I
hitched down. It is extensive and quite
remarkable. Whole trees have either been
broken entirely to the ground or their
tops ripped completely off. And this
destruction can be seen all the way from
Lutsen to Two Harbors. One can only
imagine what the trail looks like up on
the ridge above. If maintenance crews
are able to clear the trail by late
summer it'll surely be an
accomplishment. Maybe by fall, perhaps
by then, conditions will again be
favorable for a thru-hike o'er the
Border Route and Superior Trail(s).
Anyway, the mileages--I'm posting these
mileages in order to simplify
stats-keeping (same reason as for North
Dakota mileages). It'll all shake out in
the end.
As I've mentioned, for now, this
skipping around creates a compromising
situation, my so-called NCT west/east
thru-hike. But short of flat-out
quitting, there's really nothing else I
can do, so I'll move on east past these
two trails and hike on. Hopefully, this
journey will soon warm up and smooth out
the least bit.
|
"April is a promise that May is
bound to keep."
[Hal Borland]
|
Wednesday--April 29, 2009
Trail Day--039
Trail Mile--00.0/749/1195
Location--Two Harbors
I hate down (zero-mile) days like this;
but there's nothing I can do but wait. Dwinda
has overnighted me another right
trekking pole, along with the maps I'll
need to hike on into Wisconsin and
Michigan. But overnight to Two Harbors
is more like two days. So, though my
bounce box is here, I gotta hang another
day waiting for the box from home.
What a kind young lady at Lou's (Fish
House) Motel, right on MN61. She listens
patiently to my little short story
(finances), and grants pity on the poor
old hiker. Two Harbors is an oke-e-doke
trail town. Five minute walk from the
motel to the post office, also the
library, less than five to the
cafe. Kind, friendly, and helpful folks,
all.
Another welcome (and needed) day to rest
my right knee. Timing (if there's ever a
good time to bung up your knee) is
perfect. Anyway, it's nasty/rainy,
windy, and cold, certainly a welcome
change to be in, lookin' out!
I've time to sort my bounce box, drain
the next door convenience store's coffee
pot--and just flat-out (as in out flat)
rest.
Hope to be back on the trail again
tomorrow, headed to and through Duluth.
Dang, but don't I hope summer shows up
soon.
|
"Long, stormy spring-time, wet,
contentious April,
winter chilling the lap of very
May;
but at length the season of
summer does come."
[Thomas Carlyle]
|
|
Thursday--April 30, 2009
Trail Day--040
Trail Mile--22.3/749/1195
Location--MN61, Southwest of Lester Park, Duluth
You may notice that I'm doing a 22-mile day
today. However, the cumulative mileage remains the
same as for yesterday. Somehow, when preparing my
itinerary, I failed to include this day from Two
Harbors to Duluth. So, even though I hiked the 22,
it appears as a zero-mile day. Again, it'll all
shake out in the end, that is if I can remember all
these changes.
Seems the weather up here just wants to stay mad,
throwing tantrums and fits. Yesterday afternoon and
evening the clouds kept churning until they worked
themselves into a total frenzy, finally, with
nowhere else to go but to ground. Fog, dense fog,
and rain, heavy rain at times, in waves all
night. The cold wind had its play as the waves of
rain passed. What a blessing to be in and out of it,
warm and dry.
Conditions are little better this morning, plenty of
fog left over, but the wind has given it up for
awhile, leaving a dismal, steady drizzle.
To the post office again. My care package from home
has arrived--yippee! In it are my maps for the next
section, a new right trekking pole, my o.t.c. meds,
some cards and goodies--and my old tent. Yes, my old
tent. Sorry, Christian, this new super lightweight
Cuben fiber marvel you've constructed for me has
some bugs that have just got to be worked
out. Mainly, the fly just doesn't provide enough
coverage to keep the elements (rain and snow)
completely out.
By ten, I'm pack-shouldered and headed for
Duluth. On the way out of town I stop at the
Superior Hiking Trail Association headquarters, a
neat old house right on MN61. The two ladies are
very busy preparing for an upcoming meeting, and I
am obviously distracting them from their work, so I
don't tarry. I do find that my decision to hike on
by the Superior Trail for now was certainly the
right decision, as I learn that the damage from the
ice storm is much worse than I'd originally been
told.
River Road, the scenic route to Duluth is the way to
go, and I turn there to follow the North Shore of
Lake Superior. But all I see this day is fog
(visibility to 50 yards at times) and rain. By four
the fog finally burns off and I get to see Lake
Superior for the first time today. The clear skies
don't last long, though, as the wind, coming from
the southwest (yes, I'm hiking southwest) comes up,
gusting to 35 per, bringing in more overcast and
threats of rain.
I reach Duluth in good order around six, a short (as
my hiking days go) 22-miler--my right knee
complaining only the least bit. Where River Road
returns to the main highway at the Duluth city
limits I had expected to find at least a convenience
store, hopefully a little mom-n-pop cafe, but there
is nothing, save a sign warning "Residential Area
Next Three Miles." I stare at the sign in total
disbelief. The main drag coming into Duluth from the
north, and it's a residential street--for three
miles! So, I trek on, as all I've in my pack to eat
are some (care package) M&Ms and Milk Duds.
Yup, residential all right and sure enough a
thousand houses, at least, semis whizzing past. At
the end of the three miles, still no commercial
district, as the street changes from passing by the
dwellings of live residents to that of dead
ones. You're familiar with these big city park-like
cemeteries, ten-foot high medieval stone and wrought
iron gates, walls, and pediments. This goes on for
another two miles. So now, my short hiking day isn't
so short anymore, and by the time I finally reach
the commercial district, my right knee is definitely
complaining.
The wind is still whipping, and it's turned
cold. Along, and after another mile or so, I find a
little motel, KFC right across, and I call it a day.
|
"A little suffering is good for the soul, it
is true, but I have no desire to become a saint."
[L. Jean Marsch]
|
Friday--May 1,
2009
Trail Day--041
Trail Mile--24.9/774/1220
Location--Willard Munger Inn, near Magney Snively
Park, Duluth
Well it's time to turn another page on the old
calendar. In the process, and hopefully, there'll be
a turn in the weather as well. I'm sure hopeful
winter is behind me.
Through Duluth, the NCT (when the Arrowhead
relocation is finally blessed by the powers that be)
will probably follow the Superior Hiking "Trail"
through/around town. That route is partially dirt
tread and partially paved, a
bicycle/rollerblade/jogging path. Definitely, as
hikers/backpackers, we're the stepchildren through
the paved part, a fine exercise path for the Duluth
folks.
As to the why and how of this Duluth section, The
Superior Hiking Trail, at least as to the
history--as best I can figure--had to do with the
considerable opposition (the mentality of our
trail-building experts) to the proposed Arrowhead
relocation--because of metro Duluth. "You can't take
the trail up Superior, you'd have to go through
Duluth," I'd guess was the argument. Could never
consider going straight through town, oh no. And so,
did the fine folks of Duluth step right up to solve
the problem!
Okay, where's this going (ramble, ramble)? Well
folks, I really don't much care what our trail
building experts think. As for me, and right now,
I'm sitting in the Coney Island Diner having
breakfast. The Coney Island Diner is smack in the
middle of downtown Duluth, right on Superior Street,
the main drag. The little, shoe-horned-in
establishment is quite remarkable, certainly an
historic place, established as it was in 1921 (make
sure and check out the photos in a week or so). But
again, I digress. Anyway, I'll hike most of the
trail through/around Duluth, all the while keeping
in mind that I'm on the NCT, not the SHT. That's an
important distinction, as the NCT route can pretty
much go anywhere my fancy happens to send it! And
so, and please remember folks (you too
Nimblewill), "It's the people, the places..."
and the people don't all have to be four-legged
ones, nor do all the places have to be (our trail
experts say it's gotta be) "The Green Tunnel."
Had I stayed true to even the metro section, the
Riverwalk, we'd have missed getting to know Leif
Erickson and Jay Cooke (their bronze likenesses are
downtown, not on the river), we'd have missed the
opportunity to apply for a job as an "Ice Cream
Server," we'd have never known there was a building
just for we intrepids (called the Intrepid
Building), we'd have missed the Whizzer motorbike in
the display window, the most magnificent two-wheeled
creation of all time, and danged if we wouldn't have
missed getting "Booped" (as in Betty) at the
Original Coney Island Diner! And though I've missed
some, I'll still trek a good chunk of the Riverfront
and the remainder of the "trail" about!
In the harbor I get some shots of the museum ship,
the USCG Cutter, Sundew. Oh, and I learn that my old
ship, the USCG Cutter Mackinaw, WAGB 83, is now also
a museum ship, stationed in Mackinaw City, where
I'll be passing. Can't wait to see her again!
I stay Superior, which turns to Grand, and I hike
Grand on down to Willard Munger Inn, where I meet
Innkeeper, Willard Munger, Jr., son of Willard
Munger, namesake for one of the Duluth trails I'll
be trekking tomorrow. Willard expressed genuine
excitement to hear of my ramblings about--cut the
old Nomad a deal; thanks Willard!
|
"Awake, thou wintry earth -
Fling off thy sadness!
Fair, vernal flowers, laugh forth
Your ancient gladness."
[Thomas Blackburn]
|
Saturday--May 2, 2009
Trail Day--042
Trail Mile--23.0/007/1259
Location--Saunders, WI
Willard, here at Willard Munger Inn, has offered to
drive down the road and fetch me this evening,
allowing another fine evenings stay. I take him up
on that, a no-brainer. I'll get in most of my
intended miles, and I can slackpack (leave a bunch
of my stuff in the room).
Seven-thirty, Willard has the waffle iron hot,
plenty of batter. I stoke up.
At eight-thirty, I head across the road to Willard's
approach trail, a groomed path, which follows along
the Duluth Zoo fence then up Kingsbury Creek to the
Superior Hiking Trail near the top of the
ridge. From here to Grand Portage at Jay Cooke State
Park is around 15 miles. By the time I claim the
ridge, I'm able to remove my jacket and gloves! A
reasonably clear, reasonably warm day, and the trail
is dry, no flooding or mud. What a change--for a
change!
By noon, this little jaunt today is turned
grand. I'm following well marked, well maintained
trail, the very best so far this journey. Some ups
and downs, some rocks, but some easy ridgeline
hiking, some grass greening up, and the first
flowers of spring, so dainty. Also of note, some
fine overlooks, and two really impressive old (very
old) stone bridges. I meet the grandson of one of
the bridge builders, Mark, Spirit Mountain Rental
Manager. And today, after over 1,000 miles on this
trail, I chance to meet two other backpackers. They
pass me on the ridge; we exchange greeting. Out for
no more than an overnight, I'd say.
By a little before four, Willard sends Ryan out to
lift me off the road. I've just crossed the St.
Louis River Bridge into Wisconsin.
Oh, and don't I pray about this weather today, that
it isn't just one spring step ahead before two
winter steps back--again.
|
"The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day.
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You're one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
a cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
And wind comes off the frozen peak,
And you're two months back in the middle of March.
[Robert Frost]
|
Sunday--May 3, 2009
Trail Day--043
Trail Mile--28.0/035/1287
Location--Hunter's Trail
Willard found he had other time commitments last, so
he had Ryan, one of his friends, come fetch me. On
the way back to the inn last, Ryan offered to haul
me back out this morning. Easy enough decision; I
give Ryan a call--at six-thirty. He accepts my offer
for breakfast. Neat little mom-n-pop back toward
town a ways. Great biscuits and gravy (and eggs);
I'm tanked!
On the return to the Wisconsin line I get to know a
bit about Ryan. He tells me about how his life back
in Iowa had been chugging right along very nicely,
for over six years. A loving wife, a beautiful son,
nice house, mortgage paid way down. Then one day,
out of the blue, the "d" word got dropped on him.
So now, Ryan is up here in Wisconsin, where he's
spent time as a child, trying to sort it all out.
And so, we talk about life after divorce, the
"sharing" of a child, the whole tragic,
heartbreaking time-out, right in the middle of
life. And Ryan's in the middle of that time-out
now,trying to sort it all out. Ryan, I'm glad we had
the chance to talk about it some. Thanks for
confiding, for letting me share my thoughts with
you--during this toughest of times. Thanks, also,
for letting me share this with my readers, that we
might include you and your family in our prayers.
By eight, Ryan has me back on the road and I'm
headed for South Superior. Not too many states I
haven't trekked through with a backpack on. Counting
Minnesota, I'll pick up three this trek, the second
being Wisconsin. And to begin Wisconsin, it's a
roadwalk today, and a beautiful day it is, cool and
clear, no wind; I start without jacket or gloves--a
first for this trek. In South Superior, I stop at
the little grocery there for a few supplies, enough
to get me on to Solon Springs some 50 miles from
here.
The roadwalk continues, save a short section of
certified trail through Pattison State Park. By one,
I've hiked the trail there, past Little Manitou
Falls. Mostly today the hike has been along busy
state roads, but by two I turn onto a little-used
gravel road cutting across to County Road A, which
leads me to the narrow washed-out Hunter's Trail.
This has been a very long day, mostly hammering the
hard, unyielding tarmac. My pitiful right knee
remains very tender and swollen. I've kept it
tightly wrapped with the Ace bandage given me by
Barb. It's really no worse, but it's certainly no
better. I know it will get better, as (just for this
day) I have prayed for the strength and the will to
endure--just for this day.
|
"I know God will not give me anything I
can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me
so much."
[Mother Teresa]
|
Monday--May 4, 2009
Trail Day--044
Trail Mile--25.2/060/1312
Location--Solon Springs, Swanson's Motel, Cabins,
and Campground
I had pulled off in the pines last, there to pitch
on level, rock-free ground for a change. I was
actually able to drive my tent stakes all the way
down, usually an easy enough task, but not up till
now, what with the frozen, rock-hard ground west of
here.
The snow, I believe, is finally gone; I've seen none
now for at least the past three days. And today I
begin again without jacket or gloves. The trees and
bushes all about are budding, pale yellows, light
greens, the deep reds. And in the low-lying areas,
the black flies are already starting. Oh yes, a sure
sign of spring! However, the streams are still
running near full tilt, very tannic here, from the
forests about.
I will try to hike as much certified trail as I can
here in Wisconsin. However, for the thru-hiker it's
very problematic. The official route for the NCT
through Wisconsin has been pretty much determined,
and trail along that route has been
constructed. Much, though, is not yet
complete. Where the longer, uninterrupted sections
have been finished, there is no problem. It's the
orphaned (isolated sections) and dead-end sections
that creates the dilemma. Getting to them, hiking
them, may require trekking many extra miles, and
include backtracking, just not practical for hikers
who must continually cover the miles. To thru-hike
the NCT in a single season absolutely means
long-mile days, very long-mile days, day after
day. In my case, somewhere around 180 25s. So, I'll
trek what I can of the trail that's been certified;
I'll do the best I can.
One of those dead-end segments I've been speaking
about I decide to pass by today, the bit of
certified trail south and west of Solon Springs. To
hike into Solon Springs from there, when the trail
is finally finished all the way through from
Pattison State Park, will be both practical and easy
for the thru-hiker. But to hike this section now
would require a diversion of around 12 miles. Just
not practical.
And so, I hike it on in to Solon Springs following
County Road A, to close the gap between here and
Pattison. I arrive Solon Springs a little after
three.
Lovely town, friendly people. First stop, the
bank. Helpful folks--I'm able to get some cash
without having to pay the (usury) ATM fee. Then it's
over to The Little Gift House for some
postcards. Here I meet owners, Amy and Jan, and
Jan's husband, Charlie. Jan is most inquisitive
about my hike. I tell her that I am hiking the trail
that passes through her town. Then I ask her if she
knows the name of that trail. "Well, sure," she
says, "It's the North Country National Scenic
Trail." Floored me! Most folks never heard of it,
but Jan and Charlie certainly know about it--they're
members of the NCTA and are local trail maintainers!
When I mention that I'd like to spend the night in
Solon Springs, but feared I couldn't afford it, Jan
said, "That problem's solved. We own a motel
here. You'll be our guest for the night." Amazing,
and what a true blessing. My poor right knee will
sure appreciate the rest!
Great little mom-n-pop cafe right next the bank. The
grocery sits the other side of the bank. Post office
and library right across the street. And all great
folks, just great folks. Cathy at the post office
gives me a plain box (one she'd been saving for just
such an occasion) so I might lighten my pack by
sending some winter items home. Oh yes, great trail
town, Solon Springs.
In the evening, at my little cabin at Swanson's,
stops by David, Bruel-St.Croix NCT Chapter
contact. David gets me up to speed concerning his
chapter's section of trail. He and his father
maintain the trail I'll be hiking tomorrow. We enjoy
a grand time.
Journal entries done--now write some cards.
|
"Above
all, do not lose your desire to walk.
Every day I walk myself into a state of
well-being and walk away from illness.
I have walked myself into my best thoughts,
and I know of no thought so burdensome that
one cannot walk away from it.
[Soren Kierkegaard]
|
Tuesday--May 5, 2009
Trail Day--045
Trail Mile--27.5/088/1340
Location--East of Erick Lake
A most memorable stay at Swanson's Cabins. Swanson's
is another interesting place up here in the
northwoods. As is Heston's on Gunflint Lake in
Minnesota, Swanson's here in Solon Springs has been
in the same family for three generations. Jan is the
granddaughter to the builder of the original cabins,
one of which I had the pleasure of staying in
last. At breakfast this morning, which I've insisted
they allow me to treat, Jan has brought some old
black and white photos to show me. One is of her
father and grandfather working, setting the homemade
trusses for the three cabins. In that picture her
father would have been in his early twenties. My
cabin last, as I mentioned, one of the original, has
been kept up and maintained over the years with much
loving care. Just a charming old structure.
Oh yes, Solon Springs is a fabulous trail
town! Everyone I met, all were most kind and
caring. Thanks, Jan and Charlie, thanks Cathy; I
will long remember your generosity and kindness to
this old man.
Those of you who've followed my journal entries for
any length of time, you know that as situations
develop during any given odyssey, remarkable
occurrences that "happen" with such regularity as to
defy all odds, you know that long ago this old man
simply gave up accepting or labeling them as mere
happenstance, as coincidental. Rather, and do you
also know, that with not the least reluctance or
doubt, does he know each to be the result of Devine
Intervention. And so, another--the "chance" meeting
of Jan and Charlie.
A short stop for a couple things at the grocery and
I'm on my way. At a little after 9:30 I turn to
climb the Brule-St. Croix Portage, a route
between/connecting the waters of the Great Lakes
with those of the Mississippi, first discovered in
1680. The portage was used for centuries by Indians,
voyageurs, explorers, missionaries, traders and
pioneers. I find the path cut deep and
well-worn. Along are large stones with bronze
plaques naming just a few of the earlier voyageurs,
some dating to the 18th Century.
Along the hike today I meet Cordell who's out
collecting aquatic bugs. I stop a moment and we have
a great chat.
On the ridge above the Bois Brule River the trail
along offers some remarkable overlooks. I am on
certified trail now. What a blessing hiking dry,
well-marked trail for a change.
Today's hike is a cruise, along old logging roads,
narrow-gage tram grades, and well-maintained trail
(soft, grassy tread maintained with a lawnmower). By
far, I am hiking the best groomed and marked trail
so far; and the day is warm with just the least
breeze. Whether I deserve this or not, I shall not
ask!
Much of the trail this afternoon reminds me of the
Ocala National Forest in Florida, rolling sand
hills, stately longleaf pine and hardwood, and
grasslands--where I am surprised by a very large,
healthy red fox.
Around three, with a flicker of a bar on my cell
phone, I give Marty a call. Marty lives in Ashland
and is the Chequamegon Chapter contact for the NCTA. We'll
try to get together tomorrow in Drummond. Our
conversation is cut short by thunder and lightning,
followed by a deluge. I manage to make it under the
pine, there to don my poncho. I stay the protection
of the pine until the worst of the storm passes,
before venturing out in it. The rain continues
steady the remainder of the day, save a short break,
where the clouds separate to permit the
sunshine--and to create the brightest rainbow I've
ever photographed. I'm hiking in the Rainbow Lake
Wilderness--coincidence, right!
Late evening, I hike on by Erick Lake (in the rain),
and continue on till dark, when the rain finally
relents, providing me the opportunity to pitch
without getting all my gear soaking wet. A very,
very long hiking day. Sure set up to hit Drummond
early tomorrow!
|
"But beauty
seen is never lost,
God's colors are all fast;
The glory of this [rainbow] heaven
Into my soul has passed."
[John Greenleaf Whittier]
|
Wednesday--May 6, 2009
Trail Day--046
Trail Mile--23.8/136/1364
Location--Chequamegon NF, Drummond
The rain, which continued off and on during the
night, was gone this morning, the day dawning
completely clear and warm! I'm able to start without
my rain pants and with only my t-shirt. What a
welcome change.
The Brule-St. Croix to Gaylord Nelson Portal hike
was a cruise yesterday, old narrow-gauge tramways
and closed logging roads. Oh yes, three-per all the
way. This very forgiving tread continues again
today; more easy going over relatively flat,
well-groomed (and dry) trail.
One of the treats this day is Rainbow Lake
Wilderness. Not a big area, but unique enough to be
set aside as wilderness. A bit of rocky going, a
fair number of blowdowns, but the trail around
Rainbow Lake is most picturesque.
I'm shooting for Drummond today; no problem getting
in early. First place I hit is the jiffy on the
corner, Bear Country, run by Craig and his folks,
Sharon and Earl. Sharon heads me down to the Rhino
Bar for lunch, then it's a call to Connie at
Chequamegon House B&B. Hey, I'm in!
I empty my pack on her back porch, everything
out. The reason? Wood ticks. Not one or two, but
more like 50--on me, on my gear, in my tent
last. What an ordeal. Time after time I thought I'd
rid myself of them, just to have one or five more
show up. Finally, I did shed myself of most of them,
but sleep proved fretfully, what with having to pull
a bunch more off me during the night. So, don't want
to infest this kind lady's house. She's cut the old
Nomad an unbelievable deal. Oh yes, more wood ticks,
but I think I've got them all now.
Early evening, shows up Robert, one of the local
club members. He has their most current trail map.
In the evening, Marty drives down from Ashland to
take me out to dinner. We have a grand time.
Sure a blessing to get in and raise my feet up. The
lingering swelling and tenderness in my right knee
is becoming worrisome. I know that all it needs is
rest to heal, but with 25-mile+ days, hard to rest
it. Didn't know if I'd be able to hammer constant
25s. I'm sure enough into the process, but there's
always that lingering doubt. This hike is finally
beginning to get some rhythm going. To keep on
keepin' on, I think it'll just take a fair amount of
stick-to-it.
Late evening now, I hear much thunder. Thunderstorms
are forecast for the night, but tomorrow is supposed
to be another warm, clear one. Bring 'er on!
|
"Somebody said
that it couldn't be done,
But he with a chuckle replied
That 'maybe it couldn't,' but he would be one
Who wouldn't say so till he tried."
[Edgar A. Guest] |
Thursday--May 7, 2009
Trail Day--047
Trail Mile--28.4/164/1392
Location--Chequamegon NF, East of Beaver Lake
Campground
Plenty of thunder racket last night, but if it ever
did rain, I sure didn't hear it. I was snug and dry
at the Chequamegon House in Drummond. Thanks,
Connie! And thanks, all great folks (it was my
pleasure to meet) in Drummond--Postmaster, sweet gal
at Rhino, Sharon, Earl, Craig, Connie--and thank
you, Randy, for the two Little Debbie cinnamon rolls
you handed (gave) me while stocking the racks at
Bear Country! Oh yes, my stay in Drummond was
especially enjoyable. It certainly was a blessing to
be able to elevate my feet for an extended time. My
right knee sure looks and feels much better this
morning.
I don't recall that I've said any more about my
pitiful toes since Heston's. To a degree, all ten
are still taking a nap. However, gradually,
day-to-day the feeling is returning, though it is a
very slow process. Seems, and I do expect, I'll
suffer some permanent nerve damage. Hopefully
though, it will be minimal. Ha, looking on the
bright side--when I stub my toes (which is often),
and from now on, it won't hurt nearly so bad!
I depart Drummond to a glorious, warm, wind-free
morning as I head for the Porcupine Lake
Wilderness. No mosquitoes yet, but in the low-lying
areas the black flies are starting to swarm in
profusion. Suits me; the bugs are sure a better deal
than frostbite. Bring 'em on!
Don't think I've mentioned that I've had my feet
operated on (again)--this past winter. The fourth
toe both my feet had become deformed. If you
followed along, my journal entries for Odyssey '08,
a thru-hike up the Pacific Crest National Scenic
Trail, you'll recall the really tough time I had
with my feet. My right fourth toe was the cause of
being off-trail for ten days during that trek. Both
those toes have been straightened out now. During
this latest procedure I also had some leftover
toenail remnants removed. Again, if you've followed
this old man along since way back, then you'll know
that ten years ago I had all ten of my toenails
removed permanently, surgically. During Odyssey '98
I lost 14 toenails. Yup, you read it right--14!
Anyway, considering the abuse I've put my feet
through already this journey, they have really
complained very little, as they're always up to the
task of carrying me along.
The trail I'm hiking here today, in the Chequamegon,
used to be called The North Country Trail. Now it's
called The North Country Trail. Confused? Well,
here's what happened: And so it is that this trail
here in Wisconsin, in the Chequamegon, is a very old
trail. Years ago, when it came to be, it was named
The North Country Trail. Then, when this (now) very
long trail was superimposed over it, the name of
that old trail was chosen to represent the new North
Country Trail National Scenic Trail, which runs from
central North Dakota to upper state New York!
I clear the Porcupine Wilderness a little after
two. A very enjoyable, very easy hike through. No
blazing allowed in wilderness areas, but with the
well-groomed tread, staying the trail was no
problem. Like the Rainbow Lake Wilderness, the
Porcupine is a small area, but it's good that it has
been protected. I've found much enjoyment passing
through both these wilderness areas. Hiking sure
helps preserve one's sanity; hiking wilderness
offers up a double-dose!
A good bit of the trail hiked today is maintained by
Marty, the chairman of the Chequamegon Chapter NCTA. Just
super trail; thanks for the fun day, Marty!
I'm headed now for Long Mile Lookout. Takes me
awhile to get there--sure a long mile. Actually,
it's over two!
I've some daylight left when I arrive Beaver Lake
Campground, so I trek on, find some water, and pitch
on the tip-top of a high knoll. A very long day.
|
"In
wilderness is the preservation of our own sanity,
of our
capacity to be good animals,
and of
our ability to thrive as individuals,
and as a species."
[Wallace Stegner]
|
Friday--May 8, 2009
Trail Day--048
Trail Mile--26.5/191/1419
Location--Mellen, Near Iron County Forest
Another crisp, clear morning. The sun wakes me; it's
shining directly into my tent. I break camp and
still have feeling left in my fingers. Days like
this, to begin the day like this one has begun--I
will never take such good fortune for granted, but
will be forever thankful.
Spring is here in northern Wisconsin now, a literal
explosion right before my eyes. All the trees are
budding and leafing out, every shade of green,
especially the most pale of greens. Ah, and so too,
all the bushes in the understory, the ferns and
flowers, more each day. Fiddleheads are unraveling,
and I see for the first time the most dainty
ladyslipper.
The hike today bumps and grinds along the least bit,
some less than gentle inclines, a few rocks. I make
very good time, however, reaching Mellen early
afternoon.
The trail comes down the hill on Kornstead Road, the
main drag from the west--directly to the main
intersection. The NCT blue blazes lead me in, tacked
to the power poles along. Just before the main
intersection, local businesses have erected little
signs to direct the hiker to all the village
conveniences. First stop is The Deli. On the menu,
along with a wide variety of sandwiches and salads,
what catches my eye is a burger by the name of
Jean--yes, a Jeanburger. I look at the menu, to the
lady, then back to the menu. "You must be Jean."I
ask (comes out as a question). "What's this
Jeanburger?" "Yes, I'm Jean," she replies, and with
a most grand exclamation--"The Jeanburger is the
best burger you'll ever eat." And so, it's the
Jeanburger, fries, and a Coke. Yup, Jean's
right. Danged if I can remember a bigger or better
burger. Fills this old hiker up, and that's saying
something!
Locals are having lunch now. Pete is sitting next,
reading the paper and having coffee. We strike up a
conversation. Next thing, I've got a ride up to the
motel (half a mile away), followed by a lift clear
up to Copper Falls State Park. "I'll go get my
vehicle; it'll take me five minutes." Says Pete.
On the way to the motel I learn that Pete has just
retired as Chief of Police here in Mellen, after 31
years! At the motel he introduces me to Mary, the
owner. "Need a room for the hiker."he tells
Mary. "You're in luck," she says, "Got one room
left." And so, I'm in--and leave my pack, to
slack-pack this next section of certified trail, a
dead-end one, to Copper Falls State Park. By hauling
me up to the falls, Pete saves me having to hike it
both ways, an extra six miles. Remarkable, isn't it!
The certified trail around the park is just
beautiful, the falls, nothing short of
spectacular. I'll be sending this memory card to my
Webmaster, CyWiz, tomorrow. Some pretty neat video
footage. Check back; should be posted in a week or
so.
Heading out of the park now, I stop a moment at the
ranger's station by the entrance. Here I meet Jill,
ranger at Copper Falls. Just wanted to let her know
that her perfectly manicured trail (NCT) through the
park is being hiked, by an NCT thru-hiker. We have a
grand chat.
On the trail back, what goes climbing up a tree
right ahead but a porcupine. Oh yes, think about
it. Two days ago I hiked the Rainbow Lake
Wilderness, then got a picture of a magnificent ROY
G. BIV rainbow. Then came the hike through the
Porcupine Lake Wilderness, followed today by a
pretty neat picture of a porcupine!
Back in Mellen, I call The Daily Press in Ashland
where Marty works. He'd told me his paper was
interested in doing an interview, so I give them a
call. All's set right away for Rick to come down,
and by the time I try (TRY) downing a foot-long sub,
again back at The Deli, then hoofing it up to the
motel, Rick is waiting. He gets some pictures, asks
some thought-provoking question, all the while,
keeping his mini-recorder running. Rick is an
outdoors guy, so we relate well; a fun interview.
Later, I spend a little time with Mary. She tells me
how her husband, George, built the little Mellen
Motel, with his own hands--50 years ago. Wow, what
kind, friendly folks here in Mellen, and Mary's sure
one of them!
Room's got a tub. Oh yes, just what this
bones-sticking-out old hiker needs, a good hot
soakin'. Finally, it's feet up--and I'm down for the
count!
Beautiful trail. Beautiful people. Beautiful day.
|
"Looking for and enjoying beauty is a way to nourish
the soul.
The
universe is in the habit of making beauty...Beauty
is everywhere."
[Matthew Fox]
|
Saturday--May 9, 2009
Trail Day--049
Trail Mile--28.6/220/1448
Location--Hurley
A steady drizzle caps the cold, gloomy morning as I
head back down the hill to Mellen and the Penokee
Mountain Deli & Sausage Co. (The place I've been
calling "The Deli"). Pete and a few other locals are
having breakfast. "Here comes that hiker that's on
the front page of the paper."I hear as I open the
door. Oh yes, Rick has done a fine job of it, color
picture and all. He said my interview/his article
would be in the paper this morning--sure
enough. Thanks Rick; neat write-up, and the
interview was fun!
Second cup of coffee and I'm pondering what to order
for breakfast. Jean comes over, "Know what you
want?" Got it figured out--potatoes, eggs up with
laces, and wheat toast. Jean frowns, "Eggs with
what?" she asks. I explain to both she and
Dave. Dave cranks 'em out. Okay folks, got a picture
of a perfect pair of fried eggs--with laces. Check
the picture album next week or so to find out what
in the world eggs up with laces might be!
A quick trip to the grocery. A celebrity here
too. Everyone has to show me the paper. It's 8:30
now, so off to the post office. Oh yes, it's closed,
but Sara unlocks for me so I can get a couple things
in the mail (including the memory card with the
eggs-with-laces picture).
Back to The Deli for a little more coffee before
headin' down the road.
Hard saying farewell to so many new friends. Thanks
Pete, thanks Mary and George, thanks Sara, and at
The Deli, thanks Jean, Dave, Nathan, Tony, and Tom,
thanks all!
My route today leads out of Mellen on SR-77. At
Upson I turn and head up to a section of certified
trail east of Snowcap, in the Penokee Mountains. I'm
in the woods a little before three. Well marked
trail and easy enough going for the first mile or
so, then the tread soups up as the waves of rain
shift from liquid to solids--in the form of sleet
and snow.
As I trek east, the trail continues to deteriorate,
many blowdowns plus much flooding. Seems I'm right
back in it again, the dry tread, fair weather, all
just a memory left to yesterday.
And wasn't it just yesterday I said "Spring is here
in northern Wisconsin now, a literal explosion right
before my eyes." Why, oh why, couldn't I heed what
Robert Frost said:
|
"But if you so much as dare to speak,
a cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
And wind comes off the frozen peak,
And you're two months back in the middle of March."
|
I manage to make it through the certified section
after much difficulty. I had set a number of
waypoints; fortunate I did as my GPS becomes
responsible for keeping me headed the right way. An
ORV trail parallels the NCT and when the going gets
so bad on the footpath I jump over to the motor
one. Past the certified section, and hiking the
temporary connector toward Hurley, I have
considerable more difficulty--flooded trail,
hit-and-miss blazing, no lack of blowdowns. Near the
end of the woods-road stretch I enter and pass right
through a big chunk of private (and heavily posted)
property. By now the rain has let up, but it's
turning very cold. Sure glad to hit the sidewalks of
Hurley!
Fine little mom-n-pop motel right downtown. Minnie
and Bernie take pity on the tired, wet, and cold old
hiker, and welcome him in--true hiker trash
rate! Warm room, oh yes. First chore, tick patrol.
Enduring days like this day takes a heap of mental
toughness along with a ton of patience.
|
"God places the heaviest burden on those who can
carry its weight."
[Reggie White]
|
Sunday--May 10, 2009, Mother's Day
Trail Day--050
Trail Mile--26.9/027/1475
Location--Porcupine Mountains WSP, near the
Presque Isle River
I was up until 1:30 this morning, pouring over my
maps trying to figure out how many days I'll be
dealing with between resupply.
The state line is only two blocks from the motel so
I cross into Michigan first thing.
First cafe in Ironwood, I pull in, a little
mom-n-pop place. Locals are in for breakfast. Bob
takes a look at my maps and gets me squared away on
what's ahead, as to possible resupply. Looks like
I'll be heading for a little berg called Rockland,
four days out. So, I'll need to plan for three
nights in the woods.
Dang, Bosephus, now I understand why you pull your
hat down and wear them big shades! Gotta get me a
bigger hat, sure some darker shades. Tripping down
the main drag here, heading for the grocery, pulls
up this vehicle from the side street. Down goes the
driver's window. Next I hear, "Hey mister, are you
the Nimblewood Nomad; is that you
Nimblewood?" I stop dead in my tracks, turn
slowly, and just shake my head. Lone Wolf from
Alaska, it is. Knows all about me, read my books,
saw me in one of the hiking/backpacking videos. Oh
my, what a great way to start this day. Lone Wolf is
relocating here to the Ironwood area. All the best
to you, dear new friend! Hope to see you somewhere
again along the trail.
In the supermarket now. Another day-maker. Passing
the ice cream case, I stop to take a really good
shot of the typical freezer burned Ben & Gerry's (no
one wants to pay that much for a pint of ice cream)!
Forecast for today is for overcast skies with rain
off and on. Pretty much the usual forecast--good
odds for the weatherman. But the day turns perfectly
clear, cool, the least breeze; just perfect!
The hike today takes me down the Black River, past
the falls and across the suspension bridge near the
mouth of the river. Great view out and across Lake
Superior. On the climb back up I pass Rainbow
Falls. Quite impressive; all the falls, impressive.
The trail now heads east through the Porcupine
Mountains WSP toward the Presque Isle River. A tough
hike it is, mostly a bog hop along poorly maintained
and marked trail. My evening campsite is near the
river. A long, tough day. I am so thankful for the
willpower to continue on.
|
"God created day and night for us so we need
not wander without boundaries,
but may be able to see in every morning the
goal of the evening ahead."
[Dietrich Bonhoeffer]
|
Monday--May 11, 2009
Trail Day--051
Trail Mile--23.2/050/1498
Location--Porcupine Mountains WSP, past Lily Pond
Trail
I rise to another beautiful, sundrenched morning. On
my way by eight.
My hike down the Presque Isle River is most
rewarding. A very large river, many grand rapids and
falls along. At the mouth of the river, another
suspension bridge, another grand view out to the
lake.
From here my map shows a six-mile hike along the
shore of Lake Superior, to the mouth of the Little
Carp River. However, as I trek along do I find the
trail remaining distant from the shore; much a
disappointment--and the bog hop continues,
interspersed with many steep, mud-slick ravines.
As I mope my way along, at the Pinkerton Creek
Trailhead, I chance to meet Kim and her son,
Dillon. They're preparing to hike in to one of the
many cabins by the lake. I had visited Speaker Cabin
earlier and imagined what a great time it'd be to
spend a day or so sometime. Mom's still sorting
stuff. Dillon has his pack on, fishing rod in hand!
My goodness, just when I've seen the last of the
snow, here's another small patch. And right next,
the most dainty and colorful profusion of
wildflowers in full bloom. Ha, winter and spring
having it out. Spring is definitely winning
now. Flowers up; snow down!
I'm finished early with my miles, my hike for
today. However, I've been looking at the next
section of trail, the first part of the hike
tomorrow. Don't know, something about it makes me
suspicious there'll be difficulty hiking it. A very
long roadless section, the kind that's very
difficult to maintain without overnight trips. So,
my concern, as I've just passed poorly marked and
maintained sections all easily reachable for
maintenance from one end or the other in a
day. Sections like this are often no more than
connectors, joining one jewel to another, having
little or no redeeming value, no special feature to
hike in for otherwise. Not the place to take your
scout kids. This looks like that kind of
section. So, I decide to hike through as much of it
as I can with the remainder of this day, and hope
for the best on what's left tomorrow.
The section starts easy enough. Blazes
everywhere. I'm able to see six or more from a
single vantage at times. But the blazes soon begin
thinning out, then dwindle to only a few every
quarter-mile or so. The fellow with the blue paint
lasted about a mile and a half. The one nailing up
markers persisted a bit longer, perhaps around two
miles before he headed back. So now I'm left with
what's left of the old original blue plastic
diamonds nailed up when the trail was built. As you
might guess, many of them now lie on the ground or
have simply disappeared. Much brush, many blowdowns
to negotiate, and faint or no tread to help me
along. Makes for painfully slow progress with much
wandering and searching back and forth. Luckily,
I've set waypoints along. Consulting my GPS helps
greatly in keeping me on track.
Late evening now, a strange thing. A bunch of blazes
close together, perhaps five or six within 50-75
feet. Then, at the edge of a ravine, the blazes and
the trail simply disappear. I search in circles for
nearly an hour before I'm back on track
again. Dearly frustrating. Sure glad I decided to
venture in here today, to get some of this behind
me.
As I pick up trail again, does it then break out on
a wide, dry woodsroad, to follow it along, then to
cross the Big Iron River on a beautiful foot bridge.
Where a small brook cuts across I pitch beside the
grassy road on the crest just beyond. It has been a
challenging day, a good day, and I am better for it.
|
"With each step you take, you will grow
stronger and stronger,
more and more skilled, more and more self
confident and more and more successful."
[Mark Victor Hansen]
|
Tuesday--May 12, 2009
Trail Day--052
Trail Mile--26.0/076/1524
Location--Ottawa NF, beyond Cascade Falls
Yesterday proved a big leap, a most uplifting day as
to my health, more specifically, as to the condition
of my right knee. For, yesterday, a very long-mile
day, I hiked entirely without the Ace bandage
wrapped around my knee, the bandage, given me by
Barb at Heston's back in Minnesota, many days and
many, many miles ago. And this morning, I am
suffering just the least lingering discomfort, and
no edema in my lower leg. What a blessing!
The strong patter of raindrops on my tent wakes me
from a sound sleep at five-thirty. No problem as I
simply let the rain lull me back to sleep until
seven-thirty. Comes then a break and I'm able to
strike camp without getting everything soaked.
In this morning's gloom I will not be gloomy nor
disheartened. Rather, I will pray to the Lord and be
thankful for this day--because in Hurley, I had
heard the forecast for the next few days, overcast
with rain every single day. Yet, this is the first
day that forecast has come even close. Yes, thank
you, Lord! Having two warm, cloud-free days just
past, the awareness of that good fortune has not
been lost on me.
My hike this morning continues along the old
woodsroad, a brush-free walk, a pleasant time. Then
it's back into the depth of the forest for more
mound hopping and bog dodging. Certainly, this trail
will look much different in just a few more weeks as
the saturation from the recent snowmelt is gone. No
question, I am hiking this trail way early in the
season, and the folks who volunteer their time to
keep the trail open haven't come out yet. Yes, I'm
way early, as I continue suffering the leftover days
of winter.
As the morning wears on, this storm is having much
trouble being serious, and by noon the sun prevails
to burn off what remains.
After an hour or so of bog-dodging, and as the trail
becomes more and more submerged, I finally give it
up and wade on in, turning the bog-dodging to
bog-bogging. The best way through is just--through.
These woods, this forest land is very marginal
land. Mainly, it's poorly drained, even on the
ridges are there bogs. And so, these forests are
ours. For, once they were timbered off, nobody much
wanted them.
By the time I reach MI64, the nasty morning has
totally given it up and the blue skies have come to
dominate. Across the road, I stop in a warm
clearing, empty my pack and hang everything around
to air and dry.
Pack loaded and shouldered again, I begin a steady
mile-and-a-half pull up Bergland Hill, the longest
and most steady climb so far this trek. From the
vantage atop Bergland I can see the hills and
valleys all around. This hike now is turning into my
kind of hike, a trek through a smaller version of
the southern Appalachians, the mountains I love.
Coming off Bergland and gawking around I catch a
root with my right toe and go down. Just got my
right knee mended and back in service, now I've
banged up my left knee. Still got your Ace bandage
if I need it Barb! Hope I don't. Looks like no more
than a skinned up kneecap.
This section of trail I'm hiking now in the Ottawa
has the reputation, the notoriety if you will, of
being the toughest section along the entire North
Country Trail. Indeed, there are plenty of ups and
downs, much climbing. It is a rugged
section. However, I'll reserve judgment on this
issue, the difficulty of this hike today, until I've
trekked the High Peaks of the Adirondacks--hopeful
before the end of September.
Late evening I find a soft spot in the pine
(there are a few pine trees scattered along) and I
pitch (with the wood ticks) for the night.
|
"The best way out is always through."
[Robert Frost]
|
Wednesday--May 13, 2009
Trail Day--053
Trail Mile--22.0/098/1546
Location--Ottawa National Forest, Victoria (then
on to Rockland)
The wind came up late last evening, driving angry
low-slung clouds. I tried pitching out of it but
that was impossible. I heard the wind continually
whipping my tent fly all night, yet I slept quite
well.
This morning, as I squint to see how the day might
appear, all I see are black specks in front of my
eyes. Ticks, lots of ticks, climbing and shuffling
all over the outside of my no-seeum screen. Oh my,
am I thankful for a tight tent with a full pan and a
zip-close screen door. And there are still folks who
prefer sleeping on the ground under a tarp--Yesh! In
this type of circumstance I simply harken back to
what Nessmuk said two centuries ago: "I go to the
woods to smooth it, not to rough it; I get it rough
enough at home." Not an easy task getting out and
away--from the ticks. Did my best, but probably have
a few hitch-hikers.
Today is primarily a resupply day, as I hike on past
the historic old village of Victoria three more
miles to Rockland.
What I know about Rockland is dated, over ten years
old now, the info from Wes Boyd's Guide. His terse
comment about Rockland, "Limited Supplies." So,
entering the little village and turning down the
main drag, do I meet Ken who's putting a new front
on his shop. Friendly chap, as do I find all the
folks of Rockland. I'd hoped for a little
convenience where I might find a loaf of bread and
some cheese, what I tell Ken. "The bar there,
Henry's Never Inn, you can get a good meal at
Henry's, and they rent out a room upstairs." says
Ken. Hey, this day is shaping to be one fine day. In
Henry's I meet Trish who recommends their homemade
stuffed pepper soup and a patsy, an Upper Peninsula
(Cornish) specialty. I go for both. Hot lunch down,
and while draining her coffee pot, I learn there's a
post office and a general store right up the
street--and the room upstairs is available! Oh yes,
a wonderful day. Ha, and I was holding out for bread
and cheese!
Turns out, the room is actually an apartment, with a
full living room, kitchen/dining, three bedrooms and
a full bath--with a bathtub. Washer and dryer
(complete with detergent) in the hall. Oh, and as I
head up, Trish hands me a full unopened package of
bacon, a half-dozen eggs, a container of butter, and
a loaf of bread. "Breakfast comes with the room, you
just gotta fix it yourself." explains Trish. No way
I'll tell you what the old Nomad got all
this for. Suffice to say that the folks here in
Rockland are not only kind but very generous, oh
yes, very generous!
Evening meal right back at Henry's, their Wednesday
evening special, build your own pizza. Yup, back to
Henry's!
Wonderful history behind Henry's. The fellow who
built the old bar back in 1889--name Peter
Gagnon. Fellow who owns and runs it now--name Henry
Gagnon, great grandson to Pete! A 100+ year success
story, and the folks who run the place, Henry and
Salle, both are genuinely happy, joy-filled, humble,
generous and most kind. I've photographed the back
of Henry's Never Inn menu, where this interesting
history plays out. When it's posted, take a minute
and read it--fascinating.
Warm soak in the tub, pizza with everything I could
load it with (think I hurt myself), clothes run
through the washer and dryer (never before), and I'm
feet up, working correspondence and journal entries.
Sure like these little bergs with "Limited
Supplies."
|
"The common idea that success spoils people
by making them vain, egotistic, and
self-complacent is erroneous,
on the contrary, it makes them for the most
part,
humble tolerant, and kind."
[W. Somerset Maugham]
|
Thursday--May 14, 2009
Trail Day--054
Trail Mile--26.3/124/1572
Location--Ottawa NF, east of Bob Lake near FR-16
I could hear the rain off and on against my window
all night. What a blessing to be snug and warm in
the lovely apartment above at Henry's Never
Inn. First thing this morning I turn the T.V. on to
the weather channel. I really don't know why I even
bother with this exercise anymore. Eternal optimism,
I suppose. Cloudy, rainy, next four days. Only
change--the south wind that was driving the angry
low-slung clouds through at 25 per yesterday, temps
in the low 60s, those clouds are being driven right
back through out of the north at 30 per, temperature
40 degrees now, wind chill in the low 30s. Just a
short distance from here, in copper county it's
snowing again this morning. Perhaps those dainty
yellow flowers I spoke of yesterday won't make it
after all. Will winter ever be over!
As I depart Rockland on this cold, rainy morning I
am very thankful to be of good spirit, fully tanked
with energy and ready to go, thanks to my dear new
friends in Rockland.
I'm hiking out with every stitch of clothing I
have--on. The six-mile roadwalk down US45 completed,
I'm back on trail heading east a little after
eleven. This trail leads to O-Kun-De-Kun Falls and
the suspension bridge over the Baltimore River. Then
it's on to the Middle Fork, Ontonagon River, and
another suspension bridge. These segments are most
enjoyable. Continuing east, and in a few miles comes
the East Branch of the Ontonagon, which I must ford,
as there's no bridge there. Along this section, the
trail deteriorates rapidly, and I'm once again into
the not-so-much-fun of bog-hopping, and finally
bog-bogging.
The Ontonagon Middle Fork was running swift, deep,
and muddy. I expect the same of the East
Fork. Fording the river may be avoided by taking a
high water route roadwalk, a couple extra miles
around. Not wishing to risk further injury to my
feet, and anticipating a dangerous crossing, I
decide that it's prudent to do the extra distance,
and take the time to bypass the ford.
Once around, and where the road leads back south to
the trail, I continue on east on Mud Creek
Road. Considering the poor trail conditions, having
to deal with them for so long, and now here again
today--does not everyone have their limit? Well,
I've reached mine. First it was the snow, two feet
at times, along with the ice, then the slush
ice. That was followed by frigid runoff and
flooding. Now here in the Ottawa I've been faced
with brush across the trail and countless blowdowns,
along with the frustration of frequently losing my
way. As the tread continued deteriorating today,
mixed in, a new dimension--industrial mud, the camo-brown
gumbo kind. You know the stuff, slick as ice. Cover
it up with a topping of last fall's leaves and
you've in for a skating good time! This mud lines
the ravines along, the trail side-slabbing down
through. I moved through each with certain caution,
doing the best I could. On a particularly steep
slope, I began sliding. Jabbing my right hiking
stick in, I managed a purchase and hung on--until
the lower section of my stick broke. Finally, I was
able to grab some saplings and get stopped. And so
folks, forgive me, but I'll be bypassing a few miles
of certified trail today, and more than likely, a
few more tomorrow too.
Late evening, crossing a little brook I take water
for the night and pull off to pitch in the pine. Gonna'
be another cold one for sure.
|
"Everything that I've got is just what I've
got on."
[Amarillo by Morning, Terry Stafford and
Paul Fraser]
|
Friday--May 15, 2009
Trail Day--055
Trail Mile--24.3/148/1596
Location--Copper County State Forest, then on to
Covington
Michigan is on eastern time, including all of the
U.P. except those counties farthest west next the
Minnesota border. This shifted the clock for me a
few days ago, so now I've an extra hour of daylight
in the evening (doesn't get dark around here until
almost ten). However, in the morning my biological
clock still wakes me around six (central time), but
it's already seven! Anyway, the sun's up, I'm up. A
raw-cold morning, my fingers so many sticks by the
time I'm packed up and ready to hike. My, oh my,
should there come days of triple digit heat in Ohio,
I will not complain.
Yesterday evening I heard, then saw, a pair of
sandhill cranes. These are huge birds; no mistaking
them. Their shrill call breaks the silence again
this morning. A strangely mournful, yet beckoning
call, much as that of the loon.
My trek concluded along a forest service road
yesterday, so my hike begins here again this
morning. In a short distance the trail crosses the
road and I head back in. The hike quickly becomes a
bog hop once more, then, as I tire of jumping and
dodging, a bog-slog. Splash and slosh time
again. The U.P. must have received an inordinate
amount of snow this past winter, what with all this
standing water and runoff. I'll continue this
bog-slog for awhile, but if it doesn't give it up
soon, I will! It doesn't. I do. Like Willie, I'm "On
the Road Again."
Back in Rockland, at the little general store there,
I bought a bag of (in the shell) sunflower seeds. I
did the same thing last year. Finally threw them
away out of frustration, near a full bag. There must
be some technique, something I'm not picking up on
here. Someone out there, could you please tell me
how you manage to get through a bag of these things
without growing old(er)!
Near the trail crossing to Sturgeon Falls, Doug
pulls along in his green truck--and stops. He's USFS,
out clearing the forest roads of brush and downed
trees. "Hiking far?"is his greeting. I give him the
full five minute pitch. Offers me a ham sandwich, a
bottle of water, and a root beer. I take him up on
the root beer. During our chat I get up to speed on
what's happened recently here in the forest. Two
feet of wet snow a couple weeks ago, that's what
happened. Pulled down limbs, pushed over whole
trees. It's finally all melted again. Aw, no wonder
the sponge-mud, the brush and blowdowns, and the
running-full-bore streams. Spring in the U.P., eh!
The trail passes close to the Sturgeon River
Wilderness and I hike some of the trail next
it. Much better tread now, on sand ridges and
slopes, a little exercise for the legs again.
By late evening I've reached the little village of
Covington. Doug had told me about a fine restaurant
here. That's my destination. It's a busy place, a
local favorite. While waiting my order, a lady comes
to my table. "Are you the fellow hiking the North
Country Trail?" she asks. Hard to believe the word's
gotten around like this, but it has. To my question,
"How do you know someone's on the NCT?" she replies,
"Read about you in our local paper."
And so, I meet Catherine, one of the few but loyal
members of the Peter Wolfe Chapter NCTA (Another
coincidence, right!). We enjoy a very good chat till
my supper arrives. Having sized me up, Catherine
then asks where I'll be staying tonight. "In the
woods, as usual." my reply. "I've an extra room at
my place; you're welcome there if you like." A
no-brainer; it's supposed to turn cold with more
rain tonight, then snow in the morning. "I accept!"
big smile on this old man's face!
It's a gentle but steady climb to Catherine's home,
the highest point of land in the U.P., a lovely,
well-kept old dairy farmstead. I help her carry some
firewood in for the warming fire she soon has
going. The howling wind delivers the rain soon
enough, which lasts most the night. What a joy being
out of it; such a blessing. We share a good time,
the evening, about the trail--our lives.
Thank you so much, Catherine, for your trusting,
caring nature (a seldom-seen-trait anymore), and for
your kindness and generosity.
|
"The
fragrance always stays in the hand that gives the
rose."
[Hada Bejar]
|
Saturday--May 16, 2009
Trail Day--056
Trail Mile--24.9/173/1621
Location--East of Craig Lake SP
A quiet and most peaceful night at Catherine's
lovely home. She has neighbors, but they're at a
distance. In fact, she shares a common line with the
Keweenaw Bay Indian Community, Ojibwe Tribe.
I'm up a little before seven, get caught up on my
journal entries and a bit of correspondence while
Catherine is preparing breakfast.
Believe it or not, the forecast is for cold and snow
today. Sure enough, a little before eight the snow
begins, a few flakes at first, then the wind starts
driving it through. By nine it's snowing so hard
that the trees, seen across the meadow through
Catherine's picture window, appear as no more than a
faint, gray shadow. The thermometer on her back
porch reads 32 degrees. I'm in no hurry to get out
in this. I relax and watch the whole unbelievable
scene with total amazement. To sit, feet propped up
by the wood stove is such a simple task. The call on
this was for the snow to come early, as it has, and
then to decrease. But by ten it's showing no sign of
stopping. If I'm to get my miles in today I have got
to get going. So, with much reluctance I tell
Catherine we must leave. She drives me back down to
the convenience store in Covington. That sad time
again, time to bid farewell to a dear new friend
I'll likely never see again. Thank you, Catherine,
for trusting, for caring.
While draining the coffee pot, I shop supplies for
four days: Hot dogs, cheese, bread, candy, sunflower
seeds, the usual, around six pounds in all.
I'm on US41 heading east toward Nestoria, but not
before noon. Going to be very difficult getting my
miles in today, what with such a late departure, and
the wind blowing a steady 25, gusting to 40, driving
the continuing snow.
I'm in Nestoria by five, to the little bar there, a
much needed break to get out of the snow, and to
have a sandwich.
Just past Nestoria I turn north on an unimproved
forest service road that leads to Craig Lake SP. At
the lake I pick up a section of certified trail and
am able to get in a couple miles in before calling
it a day.
|
"Hold fast to
dreams,
For if dreams die,
Life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams go,
Life is a barren field,
Frozen with snow."
[John Dryden] |
Sunday--May
17, 2009
Trail Day--057
Trail Mile--22.8/196/1644
Location--West of Silver Lake Basin
I prepared, braced myself, for a really cold,
difficult night. I was able to find a pine thicket
just below the crown of the ridge, there to pitch
tight under. I pulled my fly down completely around
my tent in hopes of holding in the least bit of body
warmth. But the deep cold, predicted to drop into
the low 20s, never came. In fact, I had not even the
least condensation to deal with. Slept snug and
warm.
The sun rousts me out at seven-thirty. I have got to
get my body-clock adjusted to this time change. The
salvation, at least for now, is the extended
daylight on the evening end, allowing me to do my
long-mile days.
Yesterday was an absolute total bruiser. If you had
told me that at 57 days out this trek, had you told
me that I'd be dealing with temperatures hovering
around freezing with winds driving heavy snow at
25-40 per, I never would have believed it. It is
true--and that was yesterday. I am so blessed to be
out here, so thankful for my health, my stamina, my
resolve, for such vigor at my age--it is truly a
blessing. Yes, yesterday was a very tough, trying
day, but had I just been sitting the entire day, no
purpose but to sit--I could not have endured, as so
many folks my age must endure. And so today,
tomorrow, these days will be better days, brighter
days, warmer days, and I will be patient with their
coming. And so, I rise, break camp, and set out to a
beautiful, clear, mild, wind-free morning.
I had been told I would lose cell phone contact a
short distance east of Craig Lake, so right away
this morning I give Lorana a call. She's a member of
the North Country Trail Hikers, Marquette Chapter,
NCTA. Lorana is arranging a potluck get-together at
her home for me Tuesday evening, and I wanted to let
her know I'm on schedule. I am certainly anxious and
excited to meet all the folks there.
Out of the park there's a roadwalk section. I'm
grinding along, not paying attention, and miss a
turn. Just as well, as my mistake brings the joy of
meeting Pat and Sharon who are working outdoors at
their weekend home on Lake Arfelin. They invite me
to their cabin, the perfect little getaway we all
dream of having one day. We have a grand time, and
while chatting, I'm given a Coke, a sandwich, and
some snacks. Pat then walks with me, shows me the
way around the lake to the trail. Thanks, Pat and
Sharon, thanks for your kindness!
Early afternoon I enter the McCormick Wilderness, an
eight-mile, little-used section of trail totally
devoid of blazes. Didn't take long before I was in a
predicament--no trail. The trail simply vanishes
before me, no visible tread, no signs a trail has
ever been anywhere near here. Good time to consult
my GPS, my next fixed waypoint. Heading there,
lo-and-behold, does the trail appear again. On and
on does this frustration continue. Oh, I should tell
you that this is not neglect on the part of the
Marquette folks. Oh no! In this wilderness no blazes
are permitted. Oh yes, a tough predicament! Very
slow progress, much looking and searching as I trip
my way. Along, and from time-to-time, some dear soul
has placed small cairns, a rock or two here, a rock
or two there. These clues along with the aid of my
trusty GPS, I weave my way. Guess I was never really
lost. Kind of like Daniel Boone. I remember reading
about Daniel being asked the question, had he ever
gotten lost. (Quote ending this day)
I had hoped to make it through the bushwhack above
Silver Lake Basin but with my predicament with the
trail through the McCormick tract, I've just run out
of time. It's been a very long day, and I am so
tired.
|
"I have never been lost, but I will admit to
being confused for several weeks."
[Daniel Boone]
|
Monday--May 18, 2009
Trail Day--058
Trail Mile--29.6/226/1674
Location--Escanaba River SF, Little Garlic Falls
The bushwhack section I'm heading into this morning
runs for over a mile. It's been flagged but there's
no tread built. Not so much guesswork here, but
there are many blowdowns, much brush. Then, along
with climbing around the rocks, progress is very
slow. Coming out the east end I heave a grand sigh
of relief as I come upon an old, abandoned hunt
camp. My GPS indicates I've arrived at my
destination, an unimproved woodsroad. I am
disappointed to find no road in sight. All my
waypoints, up to now, have all been accurate within
a hundred feet or so, but this one doesn't seem
right. I waste nearly an hour circling, searching
for any sign of a road--nothing. At the camp lies an
old cast-iron stove. No way this got here other than
by road. What a dilemma. Back again to where my GPS
originally announced my arrival, and looking
ever-so-closely, under the countless blowdowns and
accumulated brush, there's the faintest sign of a
roadbed. I decide to follow it, but it soon
disappears at the crown of the next ridge. Searching
further, I come across year-old tracks from a
four-wheeler. More doubt and frustration. I should
be heading southeast, these tracks lead north. No
other choice, I hang with them. Finally they turn
east, then southeast.
My next waypoint, some three miles distant,
indicates I'm at least headed in that general
direction--through the worst continuous calf-deep
quagmire I've ever had to negotiate. Finally, after
nearly four hours from the time I entered the
bushwhack, and no more than five miles distant, I
emerge on improved road (culverts and a little
scattered gravel).
This road widens and gets much better as it leads
around the Dead River Storage Basin past many lovely
vacation and weekend retreats. At Red Road I hike
over to CR510, there another bushwhack over to the
dirt/sand road that leads to Little Garlic Falls,
where is located an orphaned section of certified
trail. This bushwhack is also flagged, no tread
constructed. And again, another slow, methodic
traverse. I reach the road in good order and manage
the hike on up to the falls just in time for the
photo op before dark. A couple of fine campsites
below the falls. I choose the one with a stack of
firewood.
Certainly an adventure-filled day!
|
"Given the nature of life, there may be no
security, but only adventure."
[Rachel Naomi Remen]
|
Tuesday--May 19, 2009
Trail Day--059
Trail Mile--21.5/269/1696
Location--Marquette
Much joy in having a fire, the very first this
journey. I dried my shoes and socks and just sat and
pondered the good that's come to me.
The rain returns again during the night, yet does it
stir me little. I know it wise now to rig my fly, no
matter the evening appearance of the sky. By
seven-thirty, the rain has pretty much ended and I'm
able to strike camp and be on my way. Not the most
pleasant day, but it is not cold, a welcome change.
This is going to be a very exciting day as I reach
an important point in this hike, Marquette. I'm
almost half way across the Upper Peninsula of
Michigan now, the most rugged, isolated sections of
this trail behind me--yes a milestone for sure.
From Little Garlic Falls, certified trail leads over
to, then south along the shoreline of Lake
Superior. From Little Presque Isle Point down to
Wetmore Landing I hike the most magnificent NCT
section of trail yet. Rugged, rocky shore, isolated
little islands, when struck by crashing waves, send
spray fifty or more feet upward and in all
directions. The roar created by the collision of
waves on rock builds and builds, much as the
percussions build within a symphony. And I am here,
alone. For the most fleeting of moments, this
grandeur, this power and wonder--it is mine, all
mine to behold!
Entering Marquette, the trail follows along the
Lakewalk, to the old ore hoppers by the
shore--downtown. At the brewpub up Main Street on
the hill, I call Lorana. In just moments, she is
here to fetch me and whisk me away to her lovely
home.
In the evening, and to Lorana's comes Tom and Liz,
Denise, John and Ayleen, John and Marge, Cliff, Bev,
Jim and Norma. Comes also Jan, Leah, Don, and later
in the evening, Doug, another hiker heading for the
trail. Each brought a covered dish. What a joyful
time, the common thread joining each to each, the
love of nature and the great outdoors. Many
questions for the old hiker. It was much fun. Thank
you, Lorana; thank you all for the memorable time!
|
"There is a love of wild nature in everybody,
An ancient mother-love ever showing itself whether
recognized or no,
And however covered by cares and duties."
[Muir]
|
Wednesday--May 20, 2009
Trail Day--060
Trail Mile--00.0/269/1696
Location--Marquette
A hot bath to chase fragrances not so pleasant--and
to soak my tired, weary body. Oh, the simple
pleasures--Ah, but first to be happy! And today will
I indulge myself in rest. Some duties and chores,
but at my leisure. A trip to the Down Wind
Outfitters, a stop by the post office, Marge now
chauffeuring me around.
I have maps for another two weeks; I'm restocked on
my over-the-counter meds. My clothes are clean. I'm
clean! Did I mention being happy? Ah yes, I'm ready
for this next stretch of trail along the NCT, to the
Straits of Mackinac.
But today, what pure decadence, lounging at Lorana's!
|
"It's a heluva start, being able to recognize
what makes you happy."
[Lucille Ball]
|
Thursday--May 21, 2009
Trail Day--061
Trail Mile--25.0/294/1721
Location--Laughing Whitefish River (ravine, far
side)
I'm up at six trying to round up all my
"stuff." From the looks of it, you'd think I've
moved in! Oh yes, I have made myself completely at
home here at Lorena's--easy enough to do. She has
such a beautiful home. It's one of those earth
contact designs--but it really isn't, it's more an
underground house, but it isn't that either. If
you're driving down her street and look over, you'll
see what looks like a vacant lot, crowned up in the
middle with flowers growing on top. That "crowned
up" is the roof of Lorana's house! Don't understand
how a building can be most-like a cave, but have
plenty of light. The skylight (dome) in her great
room is the secret. Her home has been featured in
numerous magazine articles and written up repeatedly
by the local media.
These last two days have allowed me to rest up, get
cleaned up, and get charged up--for the next segment
to Pictured Rocks past Munising.
Outside now, and before loading to head back
downtown, to where I interrupted my hike Tuesday, I
climb up the hill to the top of Lorena's home and
get some pictures--so y'all will believe me!
An interview has been arranged with Channel 6 T.V.
here in Marquette. Heather, one of their reporters,
is to meet me at Lakewalk, down from Main, at
seven-thirty. Lorena no sooner has me there than
Heather arrives. She gets her camera set, and we
spend about ten minutes talking trail. Lorena stands
by, then comes Marge to also provide moral
support. Great questions; I am totally relaxed--a
fun time. Thanks, Heather, you're certainly a pro at
what you do!
A happy time, yet such a sad time, time, again,
saying good-bye to dear new friends. It must be. But
perhaps I'll see them again, Labor Day 2010, the one
day a year the Big Mac Bridge is open to pedestrian
traffic. I plan to be there, Good Lord willin', to
hike the final five miles, thus completing my trek
over all eight national scenic trails. Lorena,
Marge, and many members from their chapter plan on
doing the walk again. So, until then so long my
friends.
Out of Marquette now, I turn to take a final picture
of the fair city. I get that shot, which includes
the storm that's rapidly approaching. I hurry across
the highway to duck into the lobby of the motel
there--just in time to miss the first driving
wave. As the storm eases off, I head on down to the
Michigan DOT Welcome Center. I manage to get there
just in time to avoid the second wave. The driving
rain lets up, but then sets in steady for the
remainder of the morning and most of the afternoon.
My poncho, an old reliable veteran, which is pushing
20,000 trail miles, has been leaking quite badly.
Rain like this today would have soaked my pack and
pretty much everything in it. But Lorana has treated
the poncho with a waterproof spray, so my pack and
me--we're dry!
Hiking an old rail grade, not where I should be, I
pass a sculpture park, a quite remarkable
place. Really beautiful (and quite amusing) work by
Tom. He certainly has a talent. Some sculps tell a
story, some challenge the imagination. Regardless, I
found that they all make sense.
At Sand River I turn south to pick up a certified
section of trail. It's a joy to be hiking blazed
trail with established tread. No stumbling and
wandering around in here. From Sigan Road over to
Laughing Whitefish Falls ravine is a bumpy ride, but
I have my 25 in well before sunset. A warming fire,
such a luxury, dries my shoes and socks, and sets a
glow to my heart. This has been a great day; I am a
happy fellow and of good cheer!
|
"Some people never find it,
Some only pretend,
But I just want to live happily ever after...
Every now and then."
[Jimmy Buffett] |
Friday--May 22, 2009
Trail Day--062
Trail Mile--27.4/321/1748
Location--Hiawatha NF, Valley Spur Trail, thence
on to Munising
The call of the sandhill crane rousts me at
six-thirty to a mild, cloud-free morning. I strike
camp and am on trail by seven. I start out with my
wind jacket, hood up, gloves and rain pants, but am
able to strip to my hiking shorts and tee by ten.
Here I'm on connector and non-certified trail, but
it is well marked and maintained. Thank you, North
Country Trail Hikers of Marquette!
At ten-thirty I enter the Hiawatha National Forest,
the Rock River Canyon Wilderness just south and west
of where I'm hiking.
The trees are all leafing out now; white trillium
are blooming and the fiddleheads have unfurled.
Believe I failed to mention a few days ago that in
the Craig Lake/McCormick tract area, I saw a grey
wolf. Interesting thing: He never saw me! Came onto
the trail 20 yards ahead of me and never looked
back--just loped along ahead till he was over the
next pop and out of sight.
On the roadwalk down Sandstrom Road a fellow in a
pickup stops. "You're on a long hike, aren't you?"
he asks with a broad grin. "How can you tell?" my
reply. "Saw you on the news this morning." his
answer, as he wishes me well and is on his way. Just
a short ways on down the road I run into Ken and his
buddy. They're mushroom hunting. Ken comes out of
the bushes. "I want to shake your hand." he says,
"You're the hiking guy--saw you on the news. Anybody
walking as far as you are, just want to shake their
hand!" Word of my passing on this NCT has sure
gotten around!
A long day, much roller-coaster tread, little pits
and crowns, on and on. The trail follows the
ravines, the very upper edges, for miles. Again, it
is well marked, easy to follow.
Got my 25 in, again, with plenty of daylight to
spare. I'm out of food, so it's hoof it on into
Munising. An old motel, not so well-kept or so neat;
and a fine restaurant right down the block. Grocery
just across--what my budget demands. Doesn't take
much to keep me happy; surely you know by
now. Common situations, a few simple possessions. My
pack with not so many "things" in it; a hot meal, a
warm bed from time-to-time, that's the ticket.
|
"Earthly possessions dazzle our eyes
and delude us into thinking that they can
provide security and freedom from anxiety.
Yet all the time they are the very source of
anxiety."
[Dietrich Bonhoeffer]
|
Saturday--May
23, 2009
Trail Day--063
Trail Mile--25.1/346/1773
Location--Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore,
Coves Campsite (assigned)
Late getting up, late getting going. An iffy day
coming on, overcast, feels like rain.
First stop this morning (hopefully for breakfast)
has got to be The Falling Rock Cafe. Lorana's
friend, Nancy (also a member of North Country Trail
Hikers) is the owner. About a six block hike; I'm
there a little before nine. They open at nine! I
kill a little time, get a cup of coffee across the
street. By the time I'm back the open sign is on. As
I enter, the lady greets me with a warm smile. "You
Nancy?" I ask. "No," the lady replies, "I'm
Charlotte, the Manager. Nancy probably won't be in
this morning--we were looking for you yesterday
afternoon." She points me toward the coffee. I
didn't go downtown yesterday evening as I figured
they'd have already closed. Looking at their hours a
few moments ago--they would have been. "I knew
Lorana would call and let you know I was on my way,
sorry I didn't make it in time--tell Nancy I regret
not meeting her."
Jim is sitting one of the tables, invites me
over. Retired teacher from down below (a
troll). Been coming up to his cabin here for over 30
years. Emily (an employee at Falling Rock) arrives,
and she and Charlotte set to cranking out breakfast
for Jim and me. When I go to pay, Charlotte tells me
breakfast's on them. A young couple I'd spoken with
before breakfast had already paid for my
coffee. Dear, kind folks, thanks!
While I'm enjoying my lumberjack-sized breakfast,
Charlotte calls John, a reporter for the Munising
newspaper. He comes right over. Lots of questions--gotta
get my picture with my pack and sticks.
It's well after ten by the time I finally head out
of own. One more stop, the Pictured Rocks National
Lakeshore/Hiawatha National Forest Welcome Center. I
must obtain a permit to overnight in Pictured
Rocks. Busy weekend, hike-in campgrounds full. The
two rangers huddle, then miraculously comes
available a site 25 miles out at Coves. I'd
mentioned that I'd like to camp at around 25 miles
out. Thanks ladies!
I'm no sooner past Munising Falls and onto the
Lakeshore Trail than the trail turns directly to the
cliffs overlooking Lake Superior. What beautiful
tread, well groomed and maintained. Folks have told
me this hike along the Lakeshore would be one of the
highlights of this journey. Sure starting out with
the makings for it. And the day has turned
blue-perfect, mild, no wind--just perfect.
Clicking along now, comes Miner's Castle, a natural
rock formation eroded over the eons, standing the
shore. Lots of folks about here--Memorial Day
weekend.
The trail works inland from time-to-time, always to
return to a strategic overlook vista. Lots of
pictures; lots of remarkable scenery. Grand Portal
is another beautiful cliff formation. When you see
the pictures, the videos, you'll recognize it right
away.
Gotta hammer to get my 25 in before dark. I make
Coves Campsite with little time to spare, find an
unclaimed site, pitch, and call it a day.
"The sandstone cliffs tower abruptly above Lake
Superior, with strange formations of caves, castles,
chapels, sails and battleships. Water and minerals
paint bright pictures on the cliffs, stimulating the
imagination. Sand dunes at the other end of the
park sweep even higher against the sky, with a
promise of distant vistas from their crests.
Between the cliffs and the dunes, wide sandy beaches
stretch for miles along Lake Superior, with waves
constantly washing rows of bright pebbles." [Olive
M. Anderson]
|
Sunday--May 24, 2009
Trail Day--064
Trail Mile--25.8/372/1799
Location--Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore,
Grand Sable Lake, thence on to Grand Marais
Slept soundly the night. Daylight, I'm up. Looks to
be the makings for another super hiking day; what a
blessing to have fair weather to enjoy Pictured
Rocks. Well now, this hike is starting to come
around!
Lots of loose, sandy tread first thing. "So, old
man, if you gotta hike the loose sand, why not go
down and hike it on the beach!" Fair enough, and
soon comes the perfect opportunity to do just
that--between Pine Bluff and Seven Mile Creek. In
the quote by Olive, closing out the day yesterday,
she remarked about the incredible expanse, the miles
and miles of pristine beach along Pictured Rocks
National Lakeshore--and she talked about the
millions of beautiful pebbles constantly being
washed and tumbled.
By the wave's edge I find the sand hard-packed and
easy to hike. As I look to the pinpoint-of-beach
west, then turn and look to the pinpoint-of-beach
east, I see legion upon legion of waves arriving the
shore. And underfoot, sand and more sand--and
pebbles. No one else is down here, only me and a few
gulls. And so, is this spellbinding place not
ours! Yes, for this short flicker in time, this
beach, this seemingly endless stretch of Pictured
Rocks National Lakeshore, it's ours, all ours!
Ah, and the colorful pebbles, I pick up a red one,
only to immediately find a finer red one. I pick up
a white one, an amber one, only to repeat the
acquiring and discarding over and over again. A
completely joyful, captivating time as I stroll
along, not a care.
Up from the beach and on the trail again, I arrive
Au Sable Light. Again I am alone. No rangers, no
visitors, no one here but me. Upon first seeing the
light, the buildings, I stop abruptly. I become
totally overwhelmed. A flood of memories descends. I
drop my pack, find a spot, and just sit and
stare. Thunder Bay Island Lighthouse, the lighthouse
on Lake Huron where I was stationed over 50 years
ago now, that lighthouse, those buildings were much
as these. Great memories, what great memories. All
these old lights were decommissioned years ago. Some
are being saved, as this one. There's a preservation
effort underway to save the old light on Thunder Bay
Island too. I must return there, some day.
From Au Sable Lighthouse, the trail climbs to a
place along the shore called Log Slide. Here are
dunes, the Grand Sable Banks, which Olive also spoke
of so eloquently. An amazing mountain of
sand. Information markers explain the dunes, how
they came to be. I get pictures. Perhaps later I'll
try to figure it all out.
Right now, got my sights set on Grand Marais. The
kind lady ranger at Grand Sable Visitor Center tells
me about the little village, complete with an old
(still in service) hotel, and about some good places
to eat. Yup, I'm headed there pronto.
25(+) done for the day, I'm done for the day! Neat
village, Grand Marais. Fine old hotel (leans
east). Hiker trash rate for the old Nomad. Penne
pasta drowned in a specially concocted (vodka) sauce
served up at Sportsman's.
Don't you know, day by day, little by little, this
hike is coming around!
|
"...many things which cannot be overcome
when they are together,
yield themselves up when taken little by
little."
[Plutarch]
|
Monday--May 25, 2009, Memorial Day
Trail Day--065
Trail Mile--26.5/399/1826
Location--Well past Muskallonge Lake SP
At Bayshore Market yesterday afternoon I met Diana,
one of the store owners and a volunteer who helps
maintain trail here. She filled me in on what to
expect as I trek east. Back again this morning, the
klatch is gathered. The elder, Frank, who is 80,
still builds boats, been building them all his
life. We commend each other on still having a
passion for life--at our age.
Another great trail town for old hiker trash like
me. The Superior Hotel is a throwback, fixed as it
is in time. Rooms upstairs, down the hall, left and
right. Share a bath at the end of the hall. Got a
soft spot in my heart for old places like the
Superior. Brings back memories of my first thru-hike
up the Appalachian Trail. Stayed in Duncannon,
Pennsylvania at a similar old place called the Doyle
Hotel, near the halfway point of that hike. Not that
far along this trek. Just a pleasant happening.
The beginning of a fine hiking day as I depart Grand
Marais. The hike rolls along, a roadwalk to begin
with--an easy, carefree day. Shortly comes this SUV,
camper in tow. It slows, then stops. Exclaims the
lady passenger, "You're Eb Eberhart, the
long-distance hiker, aren't you! Another person
who'd seen the TV-6 interview. She and her husband
dream of someday hiking the Appalachian Trail. I
recite my "One of These Days" ditty for them, then
hand them my card. Thanks for stopping folks; and
thanks for giving me such great energy!
Past the mouth of Blind Sucker River, along the Lake
Superior shore, there's miles of uninterrupted
beach.
Along this section, the trail tries making up its
mind whether to go the beach or to go the road (an
endearing road name--Coastguard Rd.) as it wanders
back and forth. After getting lost, then
trespassing, and finally knocking on a fellow's door
to get directions, I decide to stay the sandy,
pebbly beach. This I do for miles, making remarkably
good time. Late evening, as the sound of the
crashing waves starts getting to me, I pull up just
short of Two Hearted River, to pitch just back in
the pine directly on the shore of Lake Superior. I
set camp, get a warming fire going, then enjoy a
grand, memorable sunset.
On this Memorial Day--
"...I'm proud to be an American, where at least I
know I'm free, and I won't forget the men who died,
who gave that right to me and I'll proudly stand
next to him to defend her still today, 'cuz there
ain't no doubt I love this land, God bless the USA."
[Lee Greenwood]
|
Tuesday--May 26, 2009
Trail Day--066
Trail Mile--24.2/423/1850
Location--Past Lake Superior SF, Parcell Lakes
I leave the beach and hike the trail this morning as
it undulates up and down, back and forth. At Two
Hearts River I cross on a beautiful suspension
bridge. The view of the river, where it enters Lake
Superior, is a remarkable sight to see. Fine
campground just across.
Hiking the beach yesterday got me way down the
trail. I pass Parcell Lakes late morning, my
destination for today, bound for Tahquamenon Falls
State Park. The land now encompassing the park was
described by Edwin Way Teale, Journey Into Summer:
"The thousand square miles of this tangled
wilderness occupy a shallow bowl bounded by a
tableland of sandstone on the north. Draining this
bowl is the brown Tahquamenon, the Dark River or
Golden River of Hiawatha."
This area, the Tahquamenon, indeed, the entire area
that makes up the broad-reaching Hiawatha NF was
visited often by Longfellow. And so, the forest's
name, and the river's (other) name, as described by
Teale.
Both the Upper and the Lower Falls are a natural
wonder. My pictures and videos describe them better
than words ever could. Make sure and to remember to
view them. I'll be getting the memory card off to
CyWiz, my Webmaster, tomorrow, so she
should have them up soon.
The day began grand enough, not a cloud nor the
least breeze, but by late morning a cold wind comes
up, driving the all-too-familiar low-slung
clouds. Sure enough, soon comes the rain, just a
drizzle for starters--followed by much more serious
stuff. By the time I reach Camp 33, the Tahquamenon
Falls Brewery (where they've a pot of steaming hot
coffee), I'm tired, wet, and cold. I linger quite
awhile, have a pasty, with lots of gravy, and drain
their coffee pot.
No break in the rain; I head out for the Lower Falls
anyway. A bit gloomy, but I manage more great
pictures and videos.
From Lower Falls, I head for Paradise, a little
village with "Limited Services." I'll miss a bit of
certified trail in the process, but I've sure hiked
the most spectacular section of it here today. On
MI-123, and in a short time I arrive Tahquamenon
General Store. I head in to get some relief from the
rain. The kind folks running the store permit me to
drop all my wet gear, coffee-up (free), and to just
rest and sit it out.
A break in the steady rain comes in about an hour. I
shoulder my pack, don my poncho, and hit the road
again. Again, in no time, comes the cold rain. After
a couple of miles, and as the day really darkens and
the rain keeps hammering me, I pass a small
community of vacation/weekend retreats. One really
catches my eye--neat two-story cabin (no signs
posted) with an outbuilding that has a woodshed
lean-to. I head over, to find a completely dry area,
maybe 10x10, protected by the building leaned-to,
and stacks of firewood two other sides. Perfect;
this is home! In no time I've got my tent set,
mattress inflated, and I'm in my sleeping bag, warm
and dry.
|
"Ye whose
hearts are fresh and simple,
Who have faith in God and Nature,
Who believe that in all ages
Every human heart is human,
That in even savage bosoms
There are longings, yearnings, strivings
For the good they comprehend not,
That the feeble hands and helpless,
Groping blindly in the darkness
And are lifted up and strengthened;-
Listen to this simple story,
To this song of Hiawatha!
[Henry Wadsworth Longfellow] |
Wednesday--May 27, 2009
Trail Day--067
Trail Mile--26.2/449/1876
Location--Beyond Tahquamenon Falls SP, Tahqua
Trail (bypassed), thence on to Paradise
The rain stayed steady the entire night, but not a
leak anywhere in the lean-to roof, the stacked
firewood protecting me on the sides. I'd hung my wet
poncho, soggy wind jacket, and soaked rain pants on
nails around, and this morning they're reasonably
dry.
In the continued protection of the lean-to I strike
camp and get ready to head back out into it. The day
begins cold, the rain steady. I've got nine miles to
hammer to get on into Paradise. I manage by eleven,
but arrive tired, wet, and cold. At the Paradise
Market I meet Jo Ann. For a place to stay she sends
me to see Bill and Linda at Curley's Motel. "They're
outdoor folks, know the trail." she says. So over to
Curley's I go. A very warm welcome by Bill. I
introduce myself, tell him my story. "Wait a minute;
let me get Linda," he says. Soon comes Linda. "We
can give you a very special rate; just fill out the
registration card." Kind smile. I fill out the card,
then go for my Ziploc wallet. Linda hands me the
room key, shows me how to get to there. Indeed, the
rate is special--I'm their guest for the day, for
the night; thanks kind folks, thanks!
There's a tub in the room; it's a lovely room with
king-sized bed, phone, fridge, the works. I am very
thankful for so much goodness, each day does it not
come to me! Thank you, Lord; I know you've set my
path, as each passing day I see it more clearly.
|
"The difficulties you meet will resolve
themselves as you advance.
Proceed, and light will dawn, and shine with
increasing clearness on your path."
[Jim Rohn]
|
Thursday--May 28, 2009
Trail Day--068
Trail Mile--28.3/477/1904
Location--Hiawatha NF, past Soldier Lake NF
Campground near Betchler Lakes
My decision to head for Paradise Tuesday evening was
sure the right decision. You'll recall I managed to
get under the roof of a woodshed that night in order
to get out of it. Then yesterday it rained off and
on, mostly on, all day, not the most happy of
times. That's when I began suspecting that the rain
I've been dealing with was just getting started,
that sort of overcast dreariness that comes in,
plunks down--and stays. So, as the rain continued
all last night and into this morning, was I ever
glad to be here at Curley's, warm and dry.
As I'm packing my gear this morning, Linda calls to
offer the room for another night. "You really should
stay."she says. "The forecast is for rain all day
today." It's so tempting to accept her kind offer,
but it is time to go, and I must be moving on.
As I enter the bakery/cafe, the early morning klatch
is gathering. Gene invites me over to sit and
chat. While I'm putting away my four sunnyside-ups,
Gene tells me a little about his life, how he got
drafted into the Army in '41. Ended up under
Patton. After the war, he decided to stay and make a
career of it--the full twenty. He's still in the
reserve, Coast Guard now. Thanks, Gene, for letting
me join you this morning, and thanks for your
unselfish service to this great nation of ours;
you're my kind of hero!
Back at Curley's, to say farewell to Bill and Linda,
gotta pause for a photo op. Ah, what a delightful
couple these two--gentle, kind, and generous
folks. My stay here at Curley's has been much
needed, a great benefit. Thanks, dear new friends!
A couple of stops on my way out of town. First, the
Paradise Market for four day's supplies. Then to the
post office to mail a few things.
Heading south now, the rain isn't hard at it, but
it's sure steady. Ten miles down to my turn/return
to certified trail. Heading through, the tread is a
total sponge. Some areas around have received over
two inches of rain the last couple of days, and
there appears no letup in sight. Much flooding, lots
of mud. No way of hiking in these conditions, no
matter your gear, without a total soaking. Climbing
over, under, around, and through the brush and
blowdowns slows my progress to a crawl. One two-mile
section takes two hours. This sort of trail, these
most unfavorable conditions, sure no fun to
hike. And it's dangerous, very dangerous. So, when I
finally clear the section, arriving the next road, I
stay the road. Unfortunately, I'll be missing some
certified trail, but there's just no way to hike it
safely and make the least progress. Along, and as I
reach other certified sections, I head in to give
them a go, but soon return to the road. Blowdowns,
brush, lack of tread, absence of blazes, more mud,
more flooding--no way, just no way.
At a little after two, just past Shallows Traihead,
I take my final look at Lake Superior, and my final
picture. From here I turn south toward Lake Huron
and Lake Michigan, toward the Straits of Mackinac
and the completion of my trek across the Upper
Peninsula of Michigan, a distance in excess of 500
miles.
Around four, the faucet finally shuts off. By six,
the sky is entirely clear--but I keep my poncho at
the ready.
Thinking back to this latest act of kindness, that
from Bill and Linda at Curley's in Paradise, never
have I expected, nor have I ever taken for granted
such kindness and generosity so lavished upon
me--from folks I chance to meet along the way. It
never ceases to amaze and astound me each time I'm
so blessed.
|
"No kind action ever stops with itself. One
kind action leads to another.
Good example is followed.
A single act of kindness throws out roots in
all directions,
and the roots spring up and make new trees.
The greatest work that kindness does to
others is that it makes them kind themselves."
[Amelia Earhart]
|
Friday--May 29, 2009
Trail Day--069
Trail Mile--25.3/502/1929
Location--Hiawatha NF, past Little Bear Creek and
on to Silver Creek, below Mackinac Wilderness
As the day wore on last, late afternoon toward
evening, the weather turned from not-so-great to
really great, so too, the not-so-great trail. As the
terrain became sandy toward Betchler Lakes, higher
and better drained, the trail widened out, through
plantations of pine. It turned dry, was well-marked
and much better maintained. The Hiawatha Shore to
Shore Chapter, NCTA, they've been here this spring
and have cleared the many blowdowns. What an amazing
change in just a few hours. The pictures I took this
morning, in the steady, steady rain, the mud, the
flooding, the brush and blowdowns, yes, what an
amazing change!
I'm out this morning to another iffy day. The rain
returned during the night, off and on again. As it
lets up a moment, I get my chance to strike camp
without getting everything soaked. I'm soggy, all my
gear mushy and soggy, but not soaked. The welcome
change in trail continues as I hike on, the sun
making a show now and then. Hard to believe the
trail is almost totally dry, my feet dry; sure a
welcome change. Wide open, dry, well marked and
maintained trail. Oh my, have I not paid my dues!
Once my pack is shouldered in the morning, I usually
keep trucking all day. But this morning, as the sun
burns through and there's a gentle breeze, I stop in
a lovely (dry) clearing, drop my pack, empty it
entirely of its contents, then scatter and hang
everything around to dry--my mushy sleeping bag, my
soaking wet tent, all my (meager) clothes,
everything's draped out to dry--as I take a break,
lay back the half-hour, and just relax in the
soothing, delightful comfort of the warm sun.
Everything freshly aired and dried out, I repack my
bag, shoulder it once more, and am on my way
light-hearted (and light-packed).
This has turned to be an absolute fun day, what with
great trail, dry feet, I've really hammered down the
miles.
Late evening now, I must make a detour around Carp
River. The bridge there is out. So it's down MI-123
two miles, then right back over Burma Road another
two. As I pick up the trail south of Burma Road, my
shadow has turned very long (yes, the sun's still
shining), I find a little water (the brown, tannic
kind), a flat grassy spot, and I call it a day.
This has been one of the most enjoyable times yet,
along this North Country Trail. Oh happy day!
|
"Happiness is different from pleasure.
Happiness has something to do with struggling,
enduring, and accomplishing."
[Stephen R. Covey]
|
Saturday--May 30, 2009
Trail Day--070
Trail Mile--24.8/527/1954
Location--Hiawatha NF, past Brevort Lake, then on
to St. Ignace
I wake to a very chilly but beautiful clear
morning. Somehow I manage to strike camp without the
usual sticks-for-fingers, and I'm pack up and
hauling--till I hit the beaver dam. The trail goes
right over the top of it. Hey, dry feet, might just
make another day with dry feet; what is that! Next
comes the finest and perhaps the longest (nearly a
quarter-mile) boardwalk through a low area. Then a
nice wide bridge spanning Silver Creek. Feet still
dry! The trail here, in this part of the Hiawatha
National Forest, is some of the finest and most
productive of all the national forest lands through
which I've passed. Glorious planted pine, plantation
after plantation, on high, well-drained
soils. Unusual for our public lands, so much of
which is incredibly marginal, low, poorly drained
(say swamp land). Low areas exist here, of
course. But as opposed to trail encountered in like
areas past, other forests, here the tread is
"through" not "in" the swamp. Extensive runs of the
finest boardwalks accompanied by narrow, elevated,
dike-like earthen ways have been constructed, above
the muck and water--just a marvelous change, no
bog-bogging here! Kay, all dear friends, Hiawatha
Shore to Shore Chapter, NCTA, what a remarkable
trail, what beautiful work--thank you, thanks
all! These last days have turned it; a delightful,
glorious hike through your section of trail. Open (blowdowns
cleared), well marked trail through interesting and
varied terrain, memorable, absolutely memorable!
As the trail continues to skirt the northwestern
extent of the Mackinac Wilderness, I'm hiking
southwest. But shortly, at Brevort Lake, I'll turn
east toward St. Ignace and the Straits of Mackinac,
to complete my trek across the Upper Peninsula of
Michigan.
Those of you who've followed my ramblings about for
awhile know that I suffer from chronic lower back
trouble, L-3, L-4. When I was a youngster still in
grade school I had my first job working for Stub, a
dear friend. I was helping him build a small garage
next his house. Laying shingles and not heeding
Stub's constant concern (he really didn't want me on
the roof), and being invincible as I was at that
time, I managed to fall off the roof, directly into
a wheelbarrow full of scrap lumber. That started it;
back's been whacked out ever since. I've sure
suffered over the years, but have avoided
surgery. During these long treks, when my lower back
swells, becomes weak and painful, I simply load up
on my Osteo and enteric coated aspirin, as high as
3-4,000 mg of aspirin a day. And I always get
through. Been taking a half-hour or so each morning
now to get the kinks out, loosen up, and get to
hauling, but my back does settle down, strength does
return to my legs, and I do fine the remainder of
the day.
These very long-mile days with little or no
break-time do wear, and tend at times to be
problematic. I have kept up my energy level, kept my
spirit strong--this is a very long journey; therein
must remain my focus. Living life at the fullest,
the very fullest!
The trail today pops and bops, but I'm full speed
ahead (three per, average), really covering the
ground. The Osteo and aspirin have kicked in. Thank
you, thank you, Lord! Your angels, each shoulder do
carry me along.
I simply cannot comment enough on this beautiful
tread. Two miles of certified trail, as shown on my
maps for example, is no longer a two hour ordeal. Oh
my, yes, what an absolute joy, trekking this trail.
A final comment, my back trouble. Darrell, my
classmate and friend, we used to run track together,
the mile relay, all those races. He's suffered back
trouble the longest time too, really bad. Finally
went for the surgery this year. He's done remarkably
well, is pain-free now. At South Kreek Ranch, he's
back running the chainsaw, his tractor and loader,
building fence, all those back-breaking
activities. 'Haps, after this trek, this coming
winter, I'll go see his doctor.
By Brevort Lake Campground, I meet Wanda from
Arizona. She's set up very comfy, big tent,
screened-in porch no less. I'm greeted right off by
her two friendly buddies, Gracy and Alfalfa. Gotta
get my picture with the pups. Wanda gives me some
(clear) water, and I'm back on the trail.
Early afternoon I get cell phone signal, so I call
the Mackinac Bridge Authority, speak with
Aggie. Upon inquiring about crossing the bridge, she
says, "We're here 24/7. We'll take you across for
two dollars." Ah, I am grateful for the phone. Much
relieved to know about the service for hikers!
Later in the evening I talk to both Colleen and Kay,
members of the St. Ignace Hiawatha Shore to Shore
Chapter, and thank them for three of the best days
this trail so far!
The last few miles into St. Ignace follow an old
railroad grade. I'm sharing it with the quad-trac
folks, so must move over from time to time. I'm in
town by six, find a very reasonable room at Moran
Bay Motel. Great view across to Mackinac Island. I'm
just half a mile from the bridge. I'll cross
tomorrow, last day in the U.P., last day in May.
|
"I don't want to get to the end of my life
and find that I just lived the length of it.
I want to have lived the width of it as
well."
[Diane Ackerman]
|
Sunday--May
31, 2009
Trail Day--071
Trail Mile--17.4/562/1971
Location--Straits SP, St. Ignace, thence across
the Straits of Mackinac to Mackinaw City
Well, you'll note that according to my itinerary,
the stats above, this day ends in St. Ignace. You
also know that I've been in St. Ignace since
yesterday evening. That's because, over the past
four days, I've whittled away at the 17 miles for
this (itinerary) day. The remarkable trail just west
of here, which I've commented much about, has made
hauling the extra miles each day very easy. Having a
day off, which I'm sure taking advantage of, is just
a great reward for my extended effort, a needed day,
as you'll quickly realize--my activities coming up.
It is really hard to believe that 71 days into this
trek, that the night temperatures could still be
dropping below freezing. Yes, a hard freeze warning
was issued for last night, for much of the eastern
Upper Peninsula area, and for good reason. Got down
in the low to mid 20s, amazing! Happy I was off the
ground and out of it, in my comfy room here at Moran
Bay Motel, St. Ignace. Little wall heater ran full
blast all night! Thanks, Tim, thanks for your
kindness, for my great stay at Moran Bay!
The day arrives clear but windy. I down the other
half of the pizza from supper last, load my pack,
and am on my way to the Mackinac Bridge before
ten. At Straits State Park I take some videos and
photos. Here, as I look across the Straits of
Mackinac, to the Lower Peninsula mainland, I've
hiked as far as I can go here in the Upper
Peninsula--and I've hiked out the month of
May! Surely, this milestone, the crossing of the Big
Mac Bridge, will close the chapter on this cold,
prolonged winter. I'll be heading almost due south
now, and into the month of June. Summer cannot be
far away.
As I stand here, gazing at the Mackinac Bridge,
comes a flood (another flood) of memories. Of the
millions of people who've been both over this bridge
and under it, I have got to be one of the first that
logged so many of both. If you've read my biography,
you'll know that I'm an armed forces veteran, spent
four years in the U.S. Coast Guard, much of that
time aboard the Icebreaker Mackinaw. That was back
in the late 50s, just shortly after the bridge was
completed. It was our duty to keep the shipping
lanes open throughout the Great Lakes. Mostly, we
broke ice in the St. Mary's River out of Superior,
and the harbor at Indiana City near Chicago. So I've
been under the bridge countless times, early-on, in
the bridge's 50 year history. In the spring, after
the shipping lanes were open, we went into drydock
in Manitowac, Wisconsin. On the weekends, a bunch of
us would carpool back to Cheboygan, Michigan, just
east of here, home of the Mac. So I've been over the
bridge countless times, again in it's very early
years.
I tarry long, taking more pictures of the bridge
before entering the bridge authority office to pay
my two bucks for the ride across, the only ride I'll
take in this 4,400 mile odyssey. Hopefully, on Labor
Day, September 2010, I'll return to walk the bridge,
the only day of the year it's open to pedestrian
traffic. I no sooner plunk down my two bucks than
Lynn is waiting for me right out front--in one of the
authority vehicles. We have a nice chat, and I get a
bunch more pictures and videos as we cross.
In Mackinaw City now, and as Tim's suggested, I head
for the Vindel Motel on the west side. Entering the
office I'm warmly greeted by Connie, the owner. My
short explanation of what I'm about, and Connie
provides a room at a very low (in my budget range)
rate.
Next on my agenda for the day is to visit the Coast
Guard Cutter Mackinaw, WAGB 83. She's decommissioned
now, no longer breaking ice, and is berthed right
here in Mackinaw City as a Maritime Museum
Ship. I've a ten minute walk to the dock. When I see
my ship again, for the first time in over 50 years,
yes, another emotional flood descends. I take a
short video, standing at the gang plank, before
boarding. The ship is manned now by
volunteers. Mary, the kind lady at the ticket booth
just down the pier was amazed to hear my story--gave
me a free ticket to visit the ship. She'd called the
folks on board, so they were expecting me. There
they stand, broad smiles. Chuck steps
forward. "Fifty years, you haven't been back to the
Mac in 50 years? What would you like to see
first?"he beams. And so, tears streaming down my
face, I again walk the decks that I so often walked,
as a very young man, over 50 years ago. Chuck asks
many questions as we tour the engine rooms, the
machine shop, other areas where I worked my shifts
and stood watch those many, many years ago. Before I
return to shore, he brings out an entry/crew book
with the names and signatures of other crew members
who've returned over the years. Last entry was dated
nearly a year ago. J. P. German was the Captain
while I served on the Mackinaw. All their names are
engraved on a plaque that hangs in the officer's
quarters.
On the fantail, I get my picture with Chuck--and a
final one of me, looking to aft port.
I'm back in my room now, composing this entry for
today--tears again streaming down my face. What a
day; what an emotion-filled day.
|
"How very special are those memories that come
from long ago,
wondrously living in the caverns of our mind,
at times seemingly forgotten, and yet in a
single moment,
travel back to them as if they were yesterday."
[Linda CyWiz Stolte]
|
Monday--June 1, 2009
Trail Day--072
Trail Mile--24.4/024/1995
Location--Wilderness SP, Sturgeon Bay
The rain came in and stayed all night. What good
fortune to have been out of it, warm and dry here at
Connie's neat little place.
A trip to the post office, a stop by the A&P for a
few supplies, then after Connie gives me directions
for a shortcut to the snowmobile trail, I'm on my
way.
The rain lets up and by eleven the sun is starting
to warm things up a bit.
The trail heads west from Mackinaw City, over to
Sturgeon Bay, where I'll get one of my final views
of Lake Michigan. At Petoskey, I'll look out and
across Little Traverse Bay, and at that point, I'll
not see any of the Great Lakes again this journey.
As I return to the trail above French Farm Lake I
see a pair of sandhill cranes. They're perhaps no
more than 30 yards ahead of me. Sandhills are
generally very wary of humans and keep their
distance, so it's not common to get a close-up look
at one. Usually, you'll not see them, just hear the
racket as they become airborne--and their squawking
as they complain about being disturbed. But these
two just stand and gawk back, as I gawk at
them. When I advance with camera in hand, fully
expecting them to fly, they just walk along, keeping
their distance, their shrill, guttural
rasp-of-a-call letting me know they aren't the least
bit happy. But they stick tight and don't fly,
pretty remarkable. And I get some pretty remarkable
audio/video in the process. You'll enjoy watching
and hearing these guys!
French Farm Lake is a picturesque spot, accessible
by vehicle, yet secluded. The trail skirts the north
shore of the lake for the better part of a mile, and
in the process, passes an artesian well. Quite a
wonder, water just coming out of a pipe in the
ground. This is turning to be a beautiful hike, the
trail open and clear of brush and blowdowns, well
blazed; yes a fun hike this morning.
Just past French Farm Lake, what a surprise to see
this chap walking up the trail toward me. It's Mark,
the young reporter from the St. Ignace News. He's
come all the way across the bridge, clear down here,
just to track me down and get an interview. We have
a grand time hiking along together. I can't shut up,
as Mark takes notes and tries to ask a few
questions. Sure hope this works out, Mark. Hate for
your editor to get upset with you!
I'm hiking today in the Mackinaw State Forest, also
Wilderness State Park. One of the longer established
trails, the Red Pine Trail, is followed for a ways,
sharing its tread with the North Country
Trail. Definitely another fun hike. The trail
through here is maintained by the Harbor Springs
Chapter of the NCTA; great job folks--you're sure
making my day!
Some other folks on the trail for a change, Don and
Angie, out hiking with their two pups. Also meet
Anna, Wade, and their son, Luke. They're just
getting camp set, a fine warming fire already
started. Sure a change seeing and chatting with
folks along the trail; a welcome change that just
adds to the joy of this day.
Late evening now, perhaps no more than a half-hour
of light remaining (and just before beginning an
extended roadwalk), I begin looking for a place to
camp for the night. Shortly, off to my right in a
clearing, appears an old hunt camp complete with a
bunch of rickety campers leaning against the
trees. There are no "Keep Out" or "No Trespassing"
signs posted so I head over. Not a soul about, nor
has there been since winter. The door is hanging
open to one of the old campers. I enter and take a
look. Not the neatest or cleanest setup, but to the
right of the door there's a little dining area
complete with a nook, padded seats and backrests no
less. And to the left, bunks with mattresses,
pillows and blankets. Well now, this looks like
home. Not five-star, but the rent's right! I move
in. The warmth of the day remains, so I close
everything tight as I can. Dinner is a sit-down
affair; and bunk-down time proves both spacious and
comfortable. Just another coincidence that such
grand accommodations should appear right at the end
of the day, eh!
|
"Coincidence is the word we use when we
can't see the levers and the pulleys."
[Emma Bull]
|
Tuesday--June 2, 2009
Trail Day--073
Trail Mile--27.9/052/2023
Location--Mackinaw SF south of Pleasant View,
thence on to Petoskey
A cold wind came up during the night, rocking the
little trailer, but the sky remained clear. I slept
warm and comfy, snug in my little camper bunk.
My goal today, if I can get out and going, is to
hammer it on down to Petoskey. Easy breaking camp,
from here in the trailer, so no problem hitting the
trail; I'm packed up and hauling right at seven.
The terrain is definitely changing now. As I move
along this roadwalk this morning I'm in farms and
fields, not forests and swamp. The hillsides are
lush with grass, fenced and cross-fenced. Sure,
there'll be plenty more "North Woods" and wilderness
areas to come, but they will no longer reign
supreme.
It's been a cloudless morning since sunrise, but the
sun isn't knocking down the cold, so I must keep
everything I have on, save my poncho. Not till mid
afternoon can I finally remove my gloves and down
vest.
More groomed and well maintained trail. I've been
hiking for two days now with dry feet, unheard off,
and I haven't gotten lost once, remarkable! Can't
praise the Harbor Springs folks enough. Thanks for
two great hiking days!
The roadwalk leads to a section of trail, then back
to another roadwalk, then a bit more trail, as it
works its way through and past private land. All
appearances, this'll be the way of the trail from
here on down, around, and up to New York.
By five, I'm downtown Petoskey, to the post
office. And, oh my, isn't this amazing: I don't hit
their door till eight-after-five, but they're open
till five-thirty; what is this! I pick up my bounce
box and much mail from family and friends.
Upon entering town, and as luck would have it,
finding the American Legion hall, I headed
there. The place was closed for renovation, but I
chanced to meet Ross, a local member just heading
home. I was looking for some local info, and Ross
was the man. Told me where to stay the night, then
walked me half-way to the post office. While in line
at the post office, who comes in but Ross. "I'll
take you to the place you need to go for a good,
nourishing meal, then we'll drive up to the men's
house where you'll be staying, how's that!" Broad
smile from Ross (that contagious, happy, natural
kindness, that innocent countenance seldom seen,
save in the very young and very old). Can't help but
like this guy--I like Ross!
We have dinner, then it's up to the Nehemiah House,
a Salvation Army facility for men. Ross waits
patiently as check in doesn't seem to be going very
smoothly. Problem: I can't really be classified as
homeless, a requirement at Nehemiah House. But Jay,
the house manager, persists as he talks with his
director. Finally (big grin from Jay), he tells me
they'll put me up at Coach House Inn, the only motel
I passed the whole way in. Ross loads me again, then
hauls me back across town to Coach House. "I'll be
here at 8:15 to take you back to the post office in
the morning, you can continue your hike from
there."More gentle kindness, more happy energy from
Ross. Thanks, Ross, my fellow Legionnaire--I'll be
ready at 8:15!
|
"Three things in human life are important.
The first is to be kind.
The second is to be kind.
The third is to be kind."
[Henry James] |
Wednesday--June 3, 2009
Trail Day--074
Trail Mile--26.7/079/2050
Location--South of Petoskey, thence on to Boyne
Falls
I had a comfortable stay here at Coachhouse
Inn. And yes, I know what you're thinking, so let's
talk about it, about my accepting the kindness and
generosity extended me, by Jay and the folks at
Nehemiah House, the Salvation Army, and Jerry here
at Coachhouse. You're thinking, "How could you
accept such charity when you're neither homeless or
destitute?" Well, I've been asked that same question
before, about accepting money from folks who
darn-well needed it a whole lot more than me. As to
giving and receiving, I spoke to that subject, and
you can read about those thoughts in my second book,
Where Less the Path is Worn--where a kind (but poor)
family insisted I accept their generosity, a
hundred-dollar bill. You can read about this in the
journal for Odyssey 2000-2001, the entry for
Saturday--December 9, 2000, Trail
Day--198/4.
Ross is right on time this morning, ready to haul me
back downtown to the post office. He waits
patiently, as I'm not ready, my stuff still
scattered around the room.
The office for the Petoskey News and Review, the
local paper, is just across the street. While I'm
busy getting my bounce box off to Lowell and a
camera memory card in the mail to CyWiz, my
Webmaster, Ross has been over to the newspaper, and
just as I'm finishing, he's back with a reporter in
tow. As they enter the post office, Ross makes the
introduction, "Julie, this is Eb." Time for another
interview so it seems, right here in the post office
lobby. A few questions, then it's picture time out
front.
Ross has a favorite place for breakfast, so we head
there. A short stack and a couple eggs later, I'm
fueled and ready for the day. And what a day this
will turn to be. Thanks' Ross, for your time, for
your genuine interest in me, for your kindness. I've
much enjoyed meeting you, getting to know you.
On a roadwalk section south of Petoskey comes this
young lady toward me, another reporter from the
Petoskey News and Review. "Hello, I'm Christina. My
editor sent me out here to find you, to learn more
about you; I'd like to do an interview if you could
give me just a few minutes." her greetings, notepad
at the ready. As usual, once I get to yapping I
can't shut up. Half-hour later, I'm finally back on
the road again.
It's a beautiful day, just the least cool
breeze. Gentle, rolling farmland, fields, pastures,
old barns. Quite a change. In the distance I see the
hill with all the microwave towers. I know we're
headed there; the trail always seeks the high
ground. Sure enough, in no time I'm huffing my way
up. New tread has been constructed here, doesn't
show on my maps. Ups and downs, even a couple of
switchbacks thrown in.
My hike today is totally within the Mackinaw State
Forest, so most of the trail is certified. Late
afternoon, after winding around most of the day, I
begin winding down for the day. On an elevated ridge
I reach for my cell phone to check for a signal. I
dig around in my left pack pocket. My compass, my
mini-recorder, my GPS, they're all right there. But
no phone; my cell phone is gone. Frantic now, I
check the pockets of my pants and my other pack
side-pocket, where I keep my camera. Again, no cell
phone. I stop, drop my sticks and my pack, grab my
head with both hands, and just shudder. This can't
be, it just can't be. My phone has got to be here
someplace. I rifle every pocket again--and again. No
cell phone. It's gone, it's just gone. What has
happened; how can this be?
Somehow, probably while reaching for my compass, or
my recorder, or my GPS, I flipped the phone out. How
it could have hit the ground and me not hear it I
don't know. I do know that's what must have
happened. But where, when? I've not checked for a
signal in hours; the phone could be anywhere. No use
in turning around and looking for it. Did that when
I lost my camera last trek. Hiked back seven
miles. Never did find it. So what's the use? A total
exercise in futility, that's what it'd be. Just
gotta get another phone.
Dwinda, my girlfriend, wanted me to carry a
phone. She got it for me. I didn't really want it at
the time, but now I use it a lot; don't know how I'd
get along now without one. So, gotta have my
phone. Aw, and the unpleasantness of this is all
just starting to register and settle. I need to stay
in touch with the NCTA folks. Saturday is National
Trails Day, lots of activities scheduled, and I've
agreed to participate. Bruce, with the NCTA, is
expecting to hear from me. Oh my, what to do!
Well, what I obviously need to do is get to a phone
fast and call Dwinda, and let her know. She'll get
me another phone. I pray she won't be upset with me.
It's nine miles to Boyne Falls. It's five now, so
there's plenty of daylight. These additional miles
would be a whole lot easier, might they be for any
other reason. When I hit Hill Road, I hit the road,
Slashing Road--and haul. I'm in Boyne Falls by
eight, check into Boyne Vue Motel--and call Dwinda. "What
do you mean, it's gone; you lost your phone, how'd
you do that!" Dwinda's reply when I tell her. I
thought she'd be plenty upset with me, but she
isn't. I haven't eaten all day other than energy
bars, so I head out for a warm meal. Back in my
room, I call Dwinda again. Incredible news: My
phone's been found, by a fellow in Petoskey, and
he'll bring it to me. Now tell me that isn't
amazing!
Nick had been out riding his bike, getting his daily
exercise when he spotted it laying in the grass just
off the pavement. I lost it clear back there, on the
roadwalk section just southeast of Petoskey. He
called the last number that I'd called this morning,
my sister, Salle Anne. Amazing, this whole
mini-miracle happened by the time I'd returned from
a burger and fries!
I give Nick a call. He'll drive down and have my
phone back to me first thing in the morning!
|
Charity never
humiliated him who profited from it,
nor ever bound him by the chains of gratitude,
since it was not to him but to God that the gift was
made.
[Antoine de Saint-Exupery] |
Thursday--June 4, 2009
Trail Day--075
Trail Mile--25.2/104/2075
Location--Mackinaw SF, Jordan River Valley
Pathway, thence on to Five Lakes
What a great benefit to have been in last
night. Frost everywhere this morning, hard to
believe--on the grass, vehicles, dwellings, hard
frost. Just as well I didn't have to sleep on the
ground.
Breakfast at the mom-n-pop downtown, then back to my
room to await Nick's arrival from
Petoskey. Eight-thirty, just as he said. I greet
him at my door. "This yours!" he asks. A kind,
gentle man. He has a little time, so we chat. Nick
is an architect in Petoskey, keeps in shape by
bicycling. That's how he came to find my cell phone
on that section of roadwalk along Greenwood
Road. He's familiar with the NCT, as a good bit of
it is also open to the mountain bike folks. Nick
would accept no reward, not even enough to cover his
expense for gas to Boyne Falls and back to
Petoskey. Thanks, Nick, thanks for finding, then
returning my cell phone!
As I depart Boyne Falls I hear lawnmowers running by
a number of houses as I pass, and catch the
fragrance of fresh-mown grass. Good sign, indeed, a
good sign!
From a very cold morning it has turned most
pleasant. In just a short while I'm able to remove
my wind jacket, rain pants, and gloves.
The trail leads out through an area being
logged. Slow going, but I find my way easy
enough. At two, I reach the Jordan River Valley
Pathway where I'll be hiking the remainder of the
afternoon. This section of trail is heavily
traveled, so it is not only well marked but
extremely well maintained. The hike through is most
pleasant, the river very scenic. I've a few short,
gentle climbs, the rest, a commune with Nature
through mature forests--a most enjoyable section of
the NCT.
In the evening, at the Landslide Overlook, comes
Doug, his son, Jake, and their friend, Josh. They
hike a short distance with me back to their vehicle
where I am treated to cookies and fruit. Thanks,
guys, for coming out, for hiking awhile with me, for
the nourishment--and your thoughtful encouragement!
By late evening I have reached Five Lakes where I
take and treat water for the night. A pleasant,
grassy knoll warmed by the afternoon sun makes for a
most pleasant camp.
From a frost-laden, wintery morning, to a beautiful,
warming, spring-like afternoon; perhaps this
late-bloomer, spring, has finally decided to make a
show after all. Can summer not soon begin! Ah, and I
now look to that day.
|
"To be interested in the changing seasons is
a happier state
than to be hopelessly in love with spring."
[George Santayana]
|
Friday--June 5, 2009
Trail Day--076
Trail Mile--25.8/130/2101
Location--Mackinaw SF, Starvation Lake, thence on
to Kalkaska
Not a bad night to be on the ground, not bad at all,
compared to other nights so endured this
trek. Temperatures remained in the high 40s;
breaking camp not the least chore. I'm out and
hiking well before seven.
Studying my maps last night, and just before nodding
off, I decided then to hit the trail early and
hammer it today--all the way down to Kalkaska. I
have got to get in, get cleaned up; I must make
myself presentable for all the National Trails Day
activities scheduled for tomorrow. Senator Levin,
Michigan's senior U.S. senator, will be at the
events. He's heard about my hike through his staff
and he'd like to meet me. So, I have got to get all
this stink and goo off me (a nice way of describing
the droppings from the gazillion caterpillars;
they're hanging, climbing, crawling
everywhere--eating everything in sight). For sure,
I'm a disgusting, shameful mess. My clothing, all my
gear is stained, filthy. So, it's hammer down today.
A mix of trail and road, easy, open travel. I make
good time. Turkey and deer sign about. It's nesting
season for turkey, and I can hear their constant
clucking. Ha, and last night a deer wandered near my
camp, close enough to catch a whiff of my chicken,
pork, and beef (bologna) sandwich. The biggest snort
I've ever heard. Poor fellow tried in vain to clear
his nostrils of what must have been the worst stench
he'd ever encountered. Off in the woods he crashed,
in full snort!
Along the road today I meet folks--two separate
occasions.
First, Mary and Bill. Mary is making her daily trip
to the mailbox. We chat and she invites me up for
coffee--then introduces me to her husband, Bill. I
get the grand tour of their most delightful home.
They keep young (he-79, she-75) through their
passion for snowmobiling.
Second, Ted, his daughter, Melissa, and her husband,
Ted. They're section-hiking the NCT--pup Isis along,
also. We have much enjoyable conversation. They're
with the Spirit of the Woods Chapter, NCTA, Joan
Young (now also my dear friend), chapter leader.
Late afternoon the NCT comes along and joins with
the Shore to Shore Trail, an equestrian path that
crosses the Lower Peninsula. Not an easy hike, what
with the deep, narrow, sandy bottom. But I make good
progress.
I arrive Kalkaska before dark and head for the
Granada Inn Motel, first stop by the northern
intersection of Michigan highways 72 and 66.
Settled in, I contact Bruce, NCTA Executive
Director. He'll be picking me up in the
morning. Bruce gets me squared away for tomorrow.
Aw, what an absolute chore, hand washing all my
clothing. As in the quote ending this day, I have
certainly stripped myself of most earthly
"things." But ya gotta have clothes, man, ya just
gotta have 'em!
|
"It is a fair
trade and equal exchange to the extent that you depart
from things...God enters into you with all that is his,
as far as you have stripped yourself of yourself in all
things. It is here that you should begin, whatever the
cost, for it is here that you will find true peace, and
nowhere else." [Meister Eckhart] |
Saturday--June 6, 2009 National Trails Day
Trail Day--077
Trail Mile--23.5/154/2125
Location--Pere Marquette SF, west of Kalkaska
Today will be a zero-mile day although you see
posted above a mileage of 23.5. I have hiked hard
the past number of days, each day gaining a few
miles on today. The ending location, also posted
above, is just 2.9 miles west of Kalkaska, where
I've been since late yesterday evening. So, I'm
showing that mileage for today, since I've already
hiked all but 2.5 miles of it, and sure, I'll pick
them up first thing tomorrow. So, might I say, this
day, National Trails Day, 2009, is a well earned
(and dues paid up) day off!
A good night's sleep. I'm rested, my clothes as
clean as I can get them by hand. I do look and smell
fresh.
Good thing. Bruce, his wife, Elana, and their
daughter are here a little before nine. I load and
we're off to the events for the day.
First is the dedication of a new section of North
Country National Scenic Trail, a certified section
near Guernsey Lake, Pere Marquette State Forest,
constructed by the Grand Traverse Hiking Club
Chapter NCTA. We arrive just as do over 50
others. Senator Carl Levin and his wife, Barbara,
also arrive shortly. A fun-filled, ribbon-cutting
event. The senator is a great trail supporter and
advocate. All could tell that he was certainly at
ease, among many dear friends he's known for years.
His assistant and regional representative, Harold,
introduces them. They are genuinely pleased to meet
me. A memorable moment.
A short hike along the newly dedicated section, then
off to a pot-luck luncheon attended by all.
In the afternoon, we drive to the Jordan River
National Fish Hatchery for a gathering with Friends
of the JRNFH, a trail maintaining affiliate of the
NCTA, also present are members of the Tittabawassee
Chapter NCTA.
A grand, events-packed day. Now, and fearful of
omitting the names of many of the folks I've met (gotta
cut me some slack, I'm an old man), I want to thank
John, Rick, Dick, Joan, Pam, June, Arlen, Bob, Lois,
Mike, Jeff, Vince, Duane, Joel, Joe, Dan, Gary,
Larry, Bob, Paul, Dan. Master Scouts, Venture Crew
7772, Kaytlin, Nick, Jesse, Dustin. Also, Roger (JRNFH
Director), Gretchen (National Public Radio, WKAR,
East Lansing), and Aaron (Grand Rapids Press). Oh,
and thank you, Bruce, for hauling me around all day!
The question asked by so many today, as always, was:
"Why?" The why meaning, why are you doing this; what
drives a person to hoist a pack and walk over 4,000
miles? Good question. Not sure I have such a good
answer.
I used to tell folks that if you gotta ask the
question, you aren't going to understand the
answer. Better, and I've distilled it down to 34
words, and you can read that ditty, entitled "Why
Go?" at my poetry page here on my site. The first
line pretty much tells it all:
|
"It's the
people..."
[N. Nomad, Why Go] |
Sunday--June 7, 2009
Trail Day--078
Trail Mile--25.6/180/2150
Location--Pere Marquette SF, West of Fife Lake
Never will I take for granted, rather, forever will
I be thankful for the blessings continually
bestowed. Again last, the finest situation, to be
sheltered, warm and dry here at Rashid's Motel, as
the rain came early and remained steady the entire
night. This has been my second night here in
Kalkaska, an unusual sojourn, a rarity this odyssey.
Thank you, Rashid, for your kindness and
hospitality.
Yesterday evening, then again this morning,
I have reintroduced myself to Burger King. I had
forgotten their grand selection of fine fare. To
follow up and to top off my Whopper and fries last
evening I much enjoyed an Oreo crumb soft ice
cream. This morning I'm right back for a couple of
egg and cheese croissants, cheese-filled tater tots,
along with near a pot of coffee. Really roughing it,
eh!
This trek I've decided to eat cold while on
the trail, as I prefer not lugging the extra weight
of a stove, pot, and fuel. As a result, I must begin
my days from camp with no coffee, quite the
sacrifice.
Heading west out of Kalkaska (coffee in
hand) I am facing a dark, dreary day. Rain
continually threatens, but holds off. Along MI-72 I
soon pick up the familiar blue paint blazes on the
light poles and I'm back on track.
The hike today leads me over finely
manicured trail, well-blazed, with tread of packed
sand lightly covered with pine needles--happy feet,
oh yes! The Shore to Shore horseyback trail criss-crosses,
comes and goes, and the NCT moves to it for short
distances time-to-time. Almost all the remaining of
the trail today is certified, just a joy to hike
here. In the afternoon, and past Guernsey Lake, the
site of yesterday's activities, the trail drops to
follow the Boardman River, a most picturesque
section of certified trail. At a little past three
I'm at Dollar Lake. Here on the lake sign hangs a
white shopping bag, a short note attached. "Hello Eb,
I met you at the National Trails Day event and I was
hoping to hike with you today...I'm leaving you some
snacks. Have a safe and enjoyable journey." Signed,
"Dick." Well, I sit down on the bench right
here--snacks don't last long!
While polishing off the last of the raisins
and the Hershey bar, I get a call from Mark. He and
his family live in Kingsley, a short way west, and
they've invited me to be their guest this
evening. Mark is hiking toward me and soon comes
along. We enjoy hiking together back to his van.
At their lovely home in Kingsley, I meet
Mark's wife, Tamal, and their children, Brandon,
Marissa, and Jack. Neighbors Phil and Betty are
interested in meeting me, and they come over for a
few minutes just before supper. Betty presents me
with a Petoskey stone.
Tamal has prepared a feast, an early
Thanksgiving. The family asks if I would give
thanks, then we all dig in.
The Lindsay's are early risers and the
children are still in school, so shortly after
supper I retire to my own room to catch up on
journal entries.
More dear, new friends--It's been a fine
day.
|
"I awoke this morning with devout
thanksgiving for my friends, the old and new.
Shall I not call God The beautiful, who
daily showth himself so to me in his gifts."
[Ralph Waldo Emerson]
|
Monday--June 8, 2009
Trail Day--079
Trail Mile--23.5/204/2175
Location--Pere Marquette SF, Anderson
Creek/Manistee River
My good fortune continues--being out of the rain
during the night. Just after supper last the rain
came again and remained steady. The wafting aroma of
freshly brewed coffee lifts me right up and carries
me to the source.
The children are preparing for school and Tamal must
be going. She's a school bus driver and she can't be
late. Mark is the manager of a tire store in
Traverse City, so he must be on his way too. That
time, more sad good-byes. Such a kind and generous
family. I will certainly remember them--and miss
them.
Mark loads me, in the pouring rain, and after a
short stop at the local convenience (I need a few
supplies), he delivers me back to the forest and to
the trail. A little help with my poncho, a good
solid hug, and he's gone.
It's such a dark morning, the kind of no
monkey-business rain. The trail has become submerged
from the deluge, all the trailside foliage wet, and
I am soon soaked, wet feet, the works.
The certified trail drops right down into a pristine
area known as Valley of the Giants, an area of
virgin pine passed by during the logging era years
ago. It's a grand cathedral, what with the towering
sentinels, but I'm able to take no pictures as I'm
fearful of harming my camera in the continual
downpour.
From Fife Lake, the trail goes generally south to
join the Manistee River, which it follows the
remainder of the day, save for a short section near
Baxter. On the roadwalk there, a lady stops to get
my autograph. Her daughter rides the school bus
driven by Tamal, and Tamal had told her about me.
Late evening, the rain unrelenting, I become
concerned about pitching for the night. It has
turned cold and I am very wet. Pitching in the rain
without soaking all my gear is impossible. At least
if there's a technique, I've never learned it.
But my good fortune continues, and as "luck" would
have it, I come upon this popup camper parked by the
river right on the trail. The permit shows that the
folks moved it in here this past weekend and will
leave it here through next weekend. No one's in, no
posted sign. It's unlocked. Oh yes, this is
home. I'm able to hang all my wet belongings about
to somewhat dry. Supper is at the nook, cushioned
backrest no less! The rain continues, but once again
I am (not so warm) but dry. In my down bag I do warm
myself and am soon comfortable for the night.
I've tried keeping a good attitude this day, but the
dreary character of it and the cold soaking made it
a challenge.
|
"The best thing one can do when it's raining
is to let it rain."
[Henry Wadsworth Longfellow]
|
Tuesday--June 9, 2009
Trail Day--080
Trail Mile--24.3/228/2199
Location--Manistee NF, Manistee River
I slept in total comfort again last. Yes, and I know
what you're thinking, "The luck this guy has." But
folks, it is not luck, believe me it is not. For you
see, I have an angel resting both my shoulders. Each
day, when I say my prayer, "A Path by the Side of
the Road" (You can read it at Poems/Ditties) I am
comforted and reassured by their constant presence.
I linger here in the camper this morning,
not wanting to get going, as I'll be out to face a
cold, dreary day.
The trail continues along the Manistee high
bank following the old woodsroad shared by many and
varied users. Occasionally, there's a bit of
constructed, certified trail for hikers only. Late
morning and as I study my maps, where the trail
breaks away from the river to head north along
another woodsroad, and as I size up the situation, I
decide to head south on that same road--I want to
pass through Mesick.
Trails, this trail, they're not built with
the thru-hiker in mind, and that's as it should
be. Folks want to go to the forest for the quiet, to
enjoy nature, for that experience. They're not
interested in walking down the road to town. And so,
to the woods goes the trail. Folks can drive to the
forest and hike there for the day, the weekend. And
when their time is up, they can load and drive the
distance to town, to home. But for the thru-hiker,
this certainly presents a challenge, trying to stay
on trail, yet trying to care for himself, sustain
himself, keep nourished and reasonably clean. So off
to Mesick this old thru-hiker goes.
But how about this; there's been a trail
reroute, and the NCT now goes the very same way I'm
headed, to cross the Manistee River on MI-37, to
follow the highway along toward town!
Along this roadwalk section comes a cyclist
toward me on his mountain bike. He stops and
introduces himself. "Hi, I'm Jon, been following
your journals, took the day off and came up (from
Holland) in hopes of tracking you down and meeting
you." Seems the day has turned out fine for Jon. He
turns and heads back to Mesick, to Jeri's, where
I'll arrive in about an hour, and we'll have lunch
together. Proves a most pleasant time--thanks, Jon!
Hiking MI-115 out of Mesick, and at Hodenpyl
Road, I pick up the familiar blue blazes again. Well
now, this is certainly a new twist--trail to
accommodate the thru-hiker! Dear folks with the
Grand Traverse Chapter, NCTA, thank you!
The blazes lead me into the Manistee River
Red Pine Plantation, then onto and across private
land owned by the McNitts. They have a campground
and a boat launch on the lake; quite nice. I hike
down, meet Mrs. McNitt, and thank her for permitting
me to hike across her campground. A bit further
along, more private land, the huge Northern Exposure
R.V. and Recreation Park, also on beautiful Hodenpyl
Lake. Again, I head down, to the park office, there
to leave a note expressing my gratitude to Suzi,
Park Director. The NCT passes for a fair distance
through the park and along the lake; a fine section.
I follow white blazes (side trail) down
River Road a ways, below the lake outfall. At this
point the river is crossed by a remarkable and very
large pedestrian suspension bridge. Here I meet Ryan
and Ben. Talking with them I learn that the Manistee
River (although the dam is in place, power being
generated) is now managed strictly as a river. What
this means is: The volume of water entering the lake
any given time, equal volume is also
discharged. Water is not held for future hydropower
generation, only as needed to maintain reasonable
lake level. So here at the bridge is there passing
an enormous volume of water, just as seen flowing
the past number of days above the dam. Only
difference, here the water is crystal clear, not the
color of "Big Muddy."
Late evening now, I find (and treat--beaver
all about) water for the night. Offered up is this
grand spot in a planted red pine plantation. Unusual
swarming horde of mosquitoes, though.
A long, constant hammer-the-miles day. My
only interruptions, those mentioned. Each and every
day I must stay focused on purpose, on
direction. Lake Champlain remains so very far away.
|
"One should act in consonance with the way
of heaven and earth, which is enduring and eternal.
The superior man perseveres long in his
course, adapts to the times,
but remains firm in his direction and
correct in his goals."
[I. Ching]
|
Wednesday--June 10, 2009
Trail Day--081
Trail Mile--26.7/255/2226
Location--Manistee NF, well past Nine Mile Bridge
Rained off and on all night, but the morning dawns
to clear skies. By a little after seven I'm pack up
and hauling. Wind jacket and gloves for a short time
only--then spray and head net for the skeeters.
I have been hiking on, and in the next four or five
days will be completing, one of the longest
stretches of pretty much uninterrupted off-road
trail, around 500 miles. It began in the U.P. and
will end, basically, at Croton Dam.
Turkey are everywhere; I hear both the gobblers
gobbling, and the hens clucking. I see them and
their chicks. All the other friends of the woods now
have and are caring for their young. Said it before,
many times--looks like spring is here. But then
again...
The section of trail this morning, below Tippy Pond,
is one of the most delightful sections I've yet
hiked. It follows beside the Manistee to cross open,
green meadows for a considerable distance. In the
meadows about are wildflowers in profusion, an
amazing variety and abundance. I pause often to take
pictures of their pretty faces.
Where the trail crosses a meadow I startle two
turkey hens, their young brood under wing. They let
me venture close enough for some grand video, both
of them and their chicks. Finally, they've tolerated
enough of my invasiveness; they flush to the trees
nearby. The chicks are hilarious as they too take
flight--haven't got the knack quite down yet.
Beyond the open meadows the trail again climbs by
switchback to the ridge above. So ends the hike
below Tippy Pond; yes, a grand, memorable bit of
this amazing and varied NCT!
This short time spent hiking through the meadows, by
the river, has been so inspiring. Comes now the
realization that man can only mimic, man can only
copy. Man cannot create. The rushing waters, the
hills above, the towering pine, all combine in
perfect harmony to form Nature's cathedral, God's
own place where man might commune with Him in
silence. The most impressive cathedrals man has
designed and erected do not near match this grand
and glorious place. Indeed, man might experience
God's presence within them, but does God not truly
take residence in Nature's bosom!
I dearly love the mountains. To me the most
beautiful and spectacular of them all are the
Southern Appalachians, in and about the Nimblewill,
such a special place near Springer Mountain, the
southern terminus of the Appalachian Trail. Within
those hills and here below Tippy Pond today are such
of Nature's spiritual places.
As I cross the Manistee River at High Bridge, I am
now hiking trail maintained by volunteers of the
Spirit of the Woods Chapter, NCTA. More finely
blazed and maintained trail. Also, here the trail
turns to leave the Manistee, a most remarkable and
memorable section of NCT that I've been hiking the
past three days.
Much of the trail late this morning and this
afternoon crosses tribal lands, property of the
Manistee Reservation, the Little River Band, Ottawa,
the trail, again, well blazed and cared for.
Lunch is at Shindler's Rest, a neat little private
picnic area just for hikers, complete with water and
a privy. I sign their guestbook. Thanks folks!
I end this day much inspired and energized--a grand
day in the presence of Nature and Nature's God.
|
"The trail gives deep, rewarding
fellowship...
an opportunity to commune with God himself
in God's Kingdom, in His house."
[Dan Sheltowee Rogers]
|
Thursday--June 11, 2009
Trail Day--082
Trail Mile--27.5/283/2254
Location--Well past Timber Creek NF Campground
The skeeters here this morning are unmerciful. Oh,
and I thought the ticks were gone--NOT! It's pretty
much no-seeum through my no-seeum. I must scold
myself harshly about moving out. What a time
striking camp. The army and air force, well trained
and equipped, everything the enemy can muster
they've thrown at me. If you've followed along my
treks for any time at all, you know I can live quite
well with the bugs--and remain sane and happy. So,
when you hear me whining and complaining, sure
enough you don't want to be here!
The day begins iffy weather-wise; looks and acts
like rain--holds off all day though.
I am completely out of provisions. Popped the last
of my M&Ms last evening for dessert. My map here
displays the symbol for supplies at a little
crossroads near Loon and Sauble Lakes. Sure hope
something's there, a convenience store,
something. Ah yes, turning the corner and looking up
Bass Lake Road I see Blossom Restaurant. I'm in, in
a flash, for all their coffee--and a grand
breakfast. I'm told by Doug, a local who mountain
bikes the nearby permitted sections of trail, that
the store shown on my map is closed, but on up Bass
Lake Road a half-mile, there's a fine convenience
store. Yup, angels both shoulders!
At the store I meet Stevie, a kind lady who lets me
drain her coffee pot while my cell phone and camera
batteries are charging. Comes in Jim as I'm
gathering supplies to get me into White Cloud. Says
on his hat, "Take a Hike." I have fun with that one!
Hot dogs, buns, cheese, M&Ms (the BIG bag),
sunflower kernels, wafers--way too much food. Gotta
lug it; I never learn.
The trail these past number of days has been
outstanding, wide open, well blazed, no blowdowns. Easy
going, just an occasional pop up or down; I've been
doing some big-mile hauling. Trail now is maintained
by volunteers with the Western Michigan and Spirit
of the Woods Chapters, NCTA. Great job folks! To all
you who work diligently to build and maintain this
trail, I am the benefactor of your unselfish and
untiring work--thanks!
Another hammer-down day on the NCT. Won't mention
the miles I've covered for fear you'll not believe
me.
I punch down my last tent stake just as dark
descends. In my tent now, I herd the horde of
skeeters to one corner and bludgeon them all. Cold
hot dogs, cheese--sure goes down good. I'm pooped;
I'm out!
|
"God places the heaviest burden on those who
can carry the weight."
[Reggie White]
|
Friday--June 12, 2009
Trail Day--083
Trail Mile--28.1/339/2282
Location--Manistee NF, way past Nichols
Lake--actually, White Cloud
The skeeters are lethargic this morning; I am
lethargic this morning. But I'm out, pack shouldered
and trekking before seven-thirty.
Looking at my maps now do I realize that if I really
put the hammer down today I can actually reach White
Cloud by late evening, as I've knocked down all the
miles for today already, save for ten.
If you glance back at the high miles on my itinerary
for the past number of days, since Kalkaska,
especially the past three, I'm sure you're thinking,
"No way!" But I have hiked them, save for some
short, unredeeming sections that wander about,
thither and yon, through the flatwoods and the
ferns (Trailbuilders, please--I'm not
complaining!). For those connect-the-dots segments,
I took to the roads nearby. From them I was able to
see the flatwoods and the ferns just as well. Also,
and I suppose you can be the least critical with me
about this next comment, and deservedly so, but dear
folks I have certainly seen "The North Woods," been
there (for near three months now), done that, got
that T-shirt! So when I keep commenting about
"hammer-down," I hope you'll not be too critical in
your analysis--the quality of my journey.
The highlight of this day is meeting Dale. He's out
photographing some of the bridges that cross the
many nearby small streams and lake outfalls. I
passed his car parked by one of the sand two-tracks
crossed by the trail. I saw the huge cooler in his
back seat. As we meet (he's headed back) we share a
very pleasant exchange. During the conversation I
comment about wishing I'd met him back at his
car--I'd have Yogied some goodies off him. Big
smile, "Meet you at one of the crossing on down. he
says. And so, in an hour or thereabouts, who do I
see waiting for me, cooler out, lounge chair
set--and another big smile; oh yes, Dale! Thanks
Dale, for your thoughtful kindness and
generosity. Relaxing fun!
Okay, so you're still scratching your head, "How
many miles per day has this old man hiked the last
few days?"
Well, you can figure it.
Sunset isn't until almost nine-thirty now. If I
begin hiking before eight in the morning I've got
nearly 14 hours of daylight. I truck at three per,
average two-and-a-half with ease, at least along
this fantastic interstate-like tread.And I often
hike all day, not stopping or dropping my pack more
than two or three times. So you can figure it!
And sure, I know you're also thinking: "This guy is
old; he's an old, old man." Yes, you're right, I am
an old, old man.
|
"Life is either a daring adventure or
nothing.
To keep our faces toward change and behave
like free spirits
in the presence of fate is strength
undefeated."
[Helen Keller]
|
Saturday--June 13, 2009
Trail Day--084
Trail Mile--23.9/363/2306
Location--White Cloud
Although the stats above indicate a 24-mile day,
this has been a much needed day of rest. I did
manage to make it to White Cloud before dark last
evening. Johnny took me in at his little motel clear
across town, and I got back to the mom-n-pop cafe
downtown for their AYCE Friday night fish fry before
they closed.
Johnny loaned me his bicycle to get back and forth
to town, so I'm right back there this morning for a
hearty breakfast. Then it's to the post office to
mail off another memory card to CyWiz.
My poor old veteran poncho has started leaking
again. My pack isn't waterproof. My poncho is
supposed to protect it. With it leaking again that
means everything in my pack gets wet. I was a soggy
mess after the all day rain last Monday. So, after
breakfast it's over to the dollar store for one of
those emergency clear plastic ponchos. Hey, the
dollar store has dollar ponchos--I take two!
Lots of correspondence to get caught up, and nearly
a week of journal entries, the writing keeps me
busy. And it's clothes washing time in between.
I've needed and am really enjoying this day off.
|
"I'm doing pretty well so far...It's been a
long journey.
[Ben Graham]
|
Sunday--June 14, 2009
Trail Day--085
Trail Mile--24.6/388/2331
Location--Manistee NF, past Bills Lake to Rogue
River State Game Area
I've had a very pleasant stay in White Cloud, a
great day of rest. My batteries are fully recharged,
as are the batteries in my cell phone and camera.
Johnny has been very kind to me, cut a hiker trash
deal on my room and loaned me his bicycle to get
back and forth to town.
I'm out on the road this morning. For the past 500
miles, near the past month, I've been hiking pretty
much uninterrupted trail, much of it certified, from
the Upper Peninsula to Croton here in the Lower
Peninsula. Heading south from Croton this morning I
finally leave the Great North Woods behind, to enter
a much different region of small villages and
farms. The large tracts of public land, the national
and state forests are now fewer and farther between.
The other morning, that short span of time between
when I removed my wind jacket and gloves and changed
to my headnet and skeeter spray, I think that was
spring. For, though spring should have been ever
present for weeks, seems time and the seasons have
skipped right through to summer, temperatures now
hovering in the high seventies, unquestionably a
glorious summer day.
As I turn the corner on 92nd Street, fellow pulls
over in his truck, down comes his window and I hear,
"You Nimblewill Nomad?" This has happened
often enough that you'd thing by now I'd be used to
it, but it's always a remarkable thing. I shake my
head in disbelief, "Yes, I'm the Nomad." I
reply. And so I meet Pat, the son of a longtime
Florida Trail Association member, Betty, who I've
met. Betty lives near Lake Okeechobee. Pat's been
following my journal entries along and is amazed
that our paths have crossed. Thanks for stopping,
Pat. Regards to your mother for me, please.
Up from the little village of Croton and Croton Dam
I stop in at a little mom-n-pop place called Hit the
Road Joe where I have lunch. Here I meet Mark who is
very familiar with the NCT. We enjoy talking
trail. Pulled pork sandwich, ice cold Coke, a house
specialty salad, all polished off with strawberry
shortcake and a dollop of ice cream. I waddle up to
the counter to pay, only to find that Mark already
picked up my tab before leaving. Thanks, Mark!
Late afternoon now, comes a gentle breeze, and on it
drifts the familiar sweet scent of honeysuckle. The
cottonwood are also blooming, their more friendly
snow not the least discomforting. Farmers are busy
now too, crops in the fields, much work. Larry,
Spring Valley Farms, comes from one of his fields in
his Mule and stops to check on what I'm doing way
out here. Much tradition in these parts. His
grandfather emigrated to this country from the
Netherlands 100 years ago this September. He was a
farmer. His daddy was a farmer. Larry is a farmer.
Late evening now, I'm unable to find the trail where
it heads south from 22-Mile Road. A lovely home
right next, so I head over to get directions. I
hesitate ever disturbing folks like this, but I want
to hike this section of trail, so to their side door
I go. I tap on the glass. The fellow sitting on the
couch simply turns, looks, then motions me in. When
I close the door, his wife, who had been napping,
jumps up. "A hiker, you're a long distance hiker!"
she exclaims. "Let me fix you a sandwich; do you
need water." Finally getting the opportunity, I
introduce myself. And so I meet Glenn and Barb. They
like spending time on their Harleys--and on the
trail. Barb pulls a package from her freezer. "Let
me fix you a steak." I decline her kind
insistence. "Please," I plead, "I just want to find
the trail." One apple down, a banana and another
apple in hand, they lead me down the road and to the
trail. Thanks, friends, for your kindness; sorry to
have disturbed you.
Don't know how I missed the trail, walked by it at
least three times. It was right there; I just
couldn't find it. A final wave to Glenn and Barb and
in I go, skeeters in hot pursuit.
Not 50-yards in is there this cardboard sign tacked
to a tree, a very fresh sign. It's dated today,
reads "NCT Hikers, need anything, resupply, rest,
food? 3 miles west on 22-mile Road, Call (cell phone
and home phone numbers both listed)." And it's
signed Head-N-Out and Tag-N-Along. What
really catches my eye, at the very bottom corner,
the folks have written, "Nimblewill Nomad."
I look back at the trail names and I'm thinking, "I
know these folks." Forms now images to fit the
names. I even remember where our paths first
crossed, clear out in California last year, on the
Pacific Crest Trail!
Well, I whip out my cell phone. Got one bar--Hey! I
give them a call. Get Tag-N-Along right
away. She can't believe it's me. "Where you plan on
staying tonight?" she asks. "Out here with the
skeeters." my reply. "Why don't you stay with us;
we'll come and get you, say in an hour--we have
guests, they'll be leaving shortly. How will that
be?" I say yes! They know how to get to Glenn and
Barb's place. Oh yes, I hit it right back over
there--for the T-bone steak and a baked potato!
Up the side steps to tap the window--one more
time. Glenn turns and looks, and motions me, and
Barb jumps up all excited--one more time. "Fix the
steak." I motion, "It's a kind-of-a long story!"
|
"How beautiful a day can be --- When kindness
touches it!"
[George Elliston] |
Monday--June
15, 2009
Trail Day--086
Trail Mile--23.7/412/2355
Location--Past Rogue River SGA, to 5 Mile Road
near Parnell
Tim and Nancy (Head-N-Out and
Tag-N-Along) have a beautiful hand-hewn log
home. I get cleaned up then we sit and visit for the
longest time. Come to find we have many dear, mutual
friends.
Glenn told me, as we were leaving last night, that
he'd thought about taking me on their own private
trail, over to the NCT. Had he, I'd have missed Tim
and Nancy's sign.
Coincidence, how it all played out, right folks? All
just coincidence!
Steak and eggs for breakfast, then it's back to the
trail. Tim and Nancy hike along with me for awhile.
Then it's that sad time once more--goodbye, dear
friends, goodbye.
Along a short section of certified trail, about
halfway through, I meet Jill, who is running toward
me. Jill was one of the guests at Tim and Nancy's
last evening, and we had met. Back at the trailhead,
and on her car, Jill tells me I'll find drinks and
some snacks. Arriving, I help myself to a power
drink and an energy bar. Thanks, Jill!
Above Rockford, and along the railtrail I've been
hiking the past few miles, I meet Carl. He gives me
directions through the city. He'd read about me in
the Grand Rapids Press, and wishes me success for
the remainder of my trek.
The roadwalk continues into Canonsburg where I stop
for a Coke and a bowl of soup. By dusk I'm a little
west of Parnell on 5-Mile Road. I find a grassy spot
next a plowed field (not posted) and pitch for the
night.
|
"A coincidence
is a small miracle in which God chooses to remain
anonymous."
[Erma Bombeck]
|
Tuesday--June 16, 2009
Trail Day--087
Trail Mile--23.9/436/2379
Location--Wabasis Lake Park, then on to Lowell
I'm up and hiking at six-thirty. I'm anxious to get
into Lowell early today, to (finally) meet all the
folks there at NCT Headquarters that I've
corresponded with since last winter.
It's another great hiking day, clear, cool, no wind.
At Falasburg County Park I come to the Flat
River. From here to Lowell extends another short
section of certified trail. Matt, at NCT
Headquarters, had expressed an interest in hiking
some with me as I pass through Lowell. This section
would be perfect, so I give Matt a call. No
hesitancy, his decision, "Be there in 20 minutes."
says Matt with excitement in his voice.
Soon comes Jill, Laura, and Matt. A joyful
meeting. At the river, Laura returns to the car, and
Jill and Matt hike on with me into Lowell. What a
joy having company on the trail. We arrive Lowell in
time for lunch, compliments of Bruce and the NCTA.
A trip to the post office, my lucky day. Maps, some
summer gear, and cards, letters, and goodies from
home.
In the evening I am invited to dine with Matt, his
wife, Brigid, and Jill and her husband, Darl.
After supper Matt and Brigid drive me to Bruce and
Kelly's lovely home. Bruce is the Executive
Director, NCTA, and I'll be their guest for the next
two nights.
Bruce gets me settled in, I work journal entries
until my PocketMail slides off on the floor.
Looking at my maps for the remainder of Michigan,
and since leaving "The Great North Woods," I've
noticed that much of what's left will be roadwalking. Family
and friends have always voiced concern about me
hiking the roads. It really isn't as risky as one
might think. Plus, in addition to my daily prayer,
"A Path by the Side of the Road," I've got an angel
resting both my shoulders. So, since I'll be taking
to the road frequently now, to close each entry for
the next number days I'd like to share that prayer
with you, one verse at a time.
|
"Lord set me a path by the
side of the road,
Pray this be part of your plan,
Then heap on the burden and pile on the load,
And I'll trek it the best that I can."
[N. Nomad] |
Wednesday--June 17, 2009
Trail Day--088
Trail Mile--17.4/453/2396
Location--Lowell
Bruce has a full schedule lined up for today. I'm up
a little after four. He already has coffee
ready. It's still pitch black out, but I can hear
the steady patter of rain on their back deck. We're
supposed to meet folks from WXMI Fox 17, Grand
Rapids/Kalamazoo/Battle Creek at the NCTA office,
from there to drive to a section of the North
Country Trail, then there to do a live take for the
early morning news. We arrive the trail in time, but
it's literally pouring, no way to get the camera set
up and rolling here, so it's time for plan #2. To
spare the details, neither plans #2 or #3
work--missed the early news. Time to
regroup. Decision is to drive the fair distance to
the Fox 17 studios, and take the shot there. This
plan works and we're on live--don't know which
segment, but it's still early. An hour+ later we've
done two more live sessions plus one for the can. Smita
was the sweet young lady who conducted the
interview. Mike and Jason were the cameramen, Curt
is, the director. I think the interviews went
well--we had a fun time. Just great folks; thanks
Smita, Mike, Jason, and Curtis!
Back at the NCTA office I set to sorting my gear,
readying some winter things to send home, swapping
out for some warmer weather gear Dwinda has sent me.
Bruce has arranged a newspaper interview for this
afternoon, the Lowell paper. It goes well. A group
of kids come by and I talk trail with them. A fun
time. Comes too, Dave, and his kids, Zeth,
Nathanial, and Logan--to show me the Little Dandy
wood stove he's made and has used for a number of
years. And a couple, Tom and Julie, they saw my
interview and are inspired to hike, and have come in
to get information on the North Country Trail.
Late afternoon, Bruce drives me to Grand Rapids to
the Wood 8 TV Studio. I'm on live with anchor
reporter, Brian, the evening news.
Further into evening now, and back at Bruce's lovely
home, he, Kelly, and Elena prepare a grand evening
meal, salad, steak, potatoes, topped off with
rhubarb crunch. I'm the lucky guest!
The miles shown in the stats today were already
hiked out over the past few days. And so for the
zero taken today, a day off.
|
"Please bless me with
patience, touch strength to my back,
Then cut me loose and I'll go.
Just like the burro toting his pack,
The oxen plowing his row."
[N. Nomad] |
Thursday--June 18, 2009
Trail Day--089
Trail Mile--24.8/478/2421
Location--Irving
Not such urgency in getting out this morning. Bruce,
kind man, doesn't call me till the coffee is
brewed. Kelly is up too, and we all spend some time
together, no rush. What an enjoyable time, sitting
the kitchen table with Bruce and Kelly. I find that
she is quite the handyman--oops, would that be
handywoman? She's done much to improve their lovely
home, from trimming out the cabinets to laying
tile. Bruce, I learn, used to play (professionally)
in a band years ago. Still does, a group with the
church.
I know this is going to be a bumpy morning for
awhile, through moments I would prefer not to
suffer--all the goodbyes. And so, as the day dawns,
Bruce says we must go. Farewell Kelly (and Elena),
I've had such a pleasant stay here in your
home--thanks for having me as your guest, thanks!
Same sad deal at the office. Bruce, Matt, and Jill
are here, I tarry some, but I must go. It is time to
go. They help me shoulder my pack, then walk me to
the door. I'm okay to the door. But outside, as I
try saying goodbye to these three friends I have a
very difficult time. Bruce (kind man, again) steps
beside me, braces me, says a prayer for me. I am
calm now and able to depart from them.
The NCT leads out south of Lowell across the Grand
River. I stay MI-50. I no more than hit the
highway than folks start honking and waving--going
both directions. Reaching I-96 I stop at Subway for
breakfast. Here I relax a short while as I try
catching up on my journal entries.
Back on the highway, and after only a short
distance, slows a pickup in the lane across. Down
comes the window and I hear the driver shout: "Good
luck, God bless you, man." Up goes the window just
as quickly and he speeds away.
There is much traffic today but a paved emergency
lane separates us. A noisy hike, but not unenjoyable. Many
lovely old centennial farms along, some having been
in the same family for over 150 years.
As I hike along, at a farmhouse and down the lane,
comes a lady and two lads. "You're the hiker we saw
on the news last evening, aren't you?" Asks one of
the boys. It's Caleb, Eric, and mom, Gail. They've
got to get my picture, with them. In a moment comes
dad, Darryl. He has brought me snacks and a cold
fruit drink. Mom then leaves for the house, to
return with a homemade cupcakes and another cold
drink. Both boys are seniors, will be graduating
shortly, then they'll stay busy with mission work
this summer. Congratulations, Caleb and Eric!
More excitement along the roads today. Stopping to
wish me well are Keith, also Dick and Joann. In
downtown Middleville now comes Pat to ask if I'm the
hiker on the North Country Trail. And right behind
her, Tom. We all head across to the little mom-n-pop
restaurant where we enjoy each other's company, as I
proceed to empty a pitcher of coke and have
supper. Pat soon leaves. And not known to me, she
pays for my dinner. Thanks, Pat.
Tom is concerned about where I'll be camping
tonight. "Forecast is for bad storms." he says. "Why
don't you come and stay at my place where you'll be
out of it. Oh yes, no hesitation on that one. I
accept! We make arrangements to meet later in the
evening, after I've got my miles in for the day.
Back on the trail, the Paul Henry Bike Path, I soon
meet a group of ladies who also saw me on the live
news report last night. I hand out more cards.
From the bike path, and back on the road, not long
these young lads come running to catch me. All
winded, one of them blurts, "You the man that's
walking?" I stop to talk with them--Josh, Michael,
Daniel, and Austin. They've just come from ball
practice and saw me hiking the road. Five minutes or
so, comes dad to find out what's going on. "He's the
man who's hiking." shouts Daniel. I give out cards
and am rewarded with a cold bottle of water.
Just a short distance to go now, and as I turn the
corner onto Middleville Road, Tom passes, honks and
waves, then continues on to Peets Road where I'll
end this hiking day.
Tom greets me, "It's certain we'll have the storm
tonight, a good thing I'm here to pick you up." Tom
loads me, my pack, and in no time we're at his
home. Here I meet Tom's wife, Diane, and their
daughter, Casey.
We visit the longest time before I head off to bed.
|
|
"And once on this journey, a witness for You,
Toward Thy way, the truth, and the light.
Shine forth my countenance steady and true,
O'er the pathway to goodness and right."
[N. Nomad] |
Friday--June 19, 2009
Trail Day--090
Trail Mile--22.6/501/2444
Location--Prairieville
To have been offered (and to have taken) shelter in
Tom's home was an absolute blessing. For, shortly
after three this morning does the storm arrive, one
we'll endure for the next two hours. An enormous
wall of pure energy, an electric storm of profound
proportions. The full show of light and sound,
strobes flashing, cymbals and drums crashing and
resounding. The first report lifts me up and brings
me to life. Back to sleep--kinda, I am awakened time
and again as the heavens fill with sound and
light. Oh my, and the rain, the rain comes in
buckets, as from a brigade. On the ground, in my
tent, this would certainly have been a very scary
ordeal. Yes, a blessing to be in.
Diane has coffee ready a little before seven and I'm
right there. Tom is the cook. He prepares
platter-sized pancakes, with eggs. to energize me
for the long day. I go for another coffee--or three;
what an absolute treat!
Aw, but does that time soon come again, more sad
goodbyes. First, Diane, as Tom gets me in the
truck. Then back to Peets Road, there from Tom, a
firm handshake and a wish-me-well as I shoulder my
pack to go. Dear friends, your concern, your caring,
your gentle kindness to this old man, I'll long
remember--thanks!
The day makes an attempt at clearing, but it doesn't
happen. Soon comes more darkening over as the rain
laden clouds roll back in. I've some roadwalking
mixed with certified trail in and around Yankee
Springs SRA.
Mid afternoon, Dave, President, NCTA, who I met at
trail headquarters in Lowell, and who lives nearby,
comes out to track me down. He offers to take me in,
to help me, as the rain is back. "Looks like another
stormy night ahead."says Dave as he greets me. No
hesitancy in accepting his offer of shelter--and
supper. I've a few more road miles to hike to make
it to Prairieville. In that short span of time two
more vehicles stop. First, Raymond, who'd seen me on
the news. It's literally pouring now; he wants to
give me his poncho. When I tell him I'm okay with my
lightweight plastic one, he hands me a crumpled up
bill (to conceal the number 100). I plead with him,
"Please, Raymond, I can't accept this." In a calm,
reassuring voice, he replies, "I am a Christian; it
is not from me." I accept the gift. Second, a young
fellow, Clinton, and friend, Melinda. They pull off
the shoulder across, then they both run across the
road to greet me. All excited, Clinton exclaims,
"You're the man walking across Michigan!" I pose for
pictures.
I'm soaked by the time I arrive Prairieville. Sure
glad to see Dave's smiling face!
|
"And lest
I should falter, and lest I should fail,
Let all who know that I tried.
For I am a bungler, feeble and frail,
When You, dear Lord, I've denied."
[N. Nomad] |
Saturday--June 20, 2009
Trail Day--091
Trail Mile--23.2/524/2467
Location--Fort Custer SRA, then on past Battle
Creek
Dave and Jan have a beautifully restored old home
right on the lake in Delton, not ten miles from the
trail. And just a few steps from their front door, a
guest cottage with every convenience. "We'll put you
up in here." proud smile on Dave's face as he showed
me their cottage last evening. "Come over and meet
Jan when you're settled in." he said as he turned to
go. I dropped my pack, took off my wet clothes, wet
shoes and socks, then just sat awhile, in the
darkening gloom, to revisit the many blessings of
the day.
A refreshing shower, clean clothes, over I went to
meet Pat, and to join them for supper. Before,
(during and after) we had much enjoyable exchange,
talking trail, and about NCT's future.
Late night, early morning, came another storm, not
so long-lasting, not as intense, not as much
rain. But it would certainly have been a long night,
a difficult and fretful time, had I been in my tent.
Dave is an early riser. "When you see the lights on,
that means coffee's ready!"his alert to me as I
returned to the cottage last night. I'm up a little
after six to part the shades first thing. Lights are
on at Dave's. Yippee! Coffee time.
I'm soon back over for that coffee, and a fine
breakfast prepared by Dave. As we continue our
conversation from last evening, I learn that both
Dave and Jan are civic minded. They've been active
in various volunteer organizations over the
years. Among his activities, Dave keeps busy now in
his roll as President, NCTA. He's an avid
outdoorsman. So the shoe (hiking boot here)
fits. Many years ago, long before I picked up my
first pair of hiking sticks, Dave had already
section hiked the Appalachian Trail, a good excuse
for long exploring the green horizons.
Jan is up now and comes to bid me farewell. Daily
now does this sad time seem to come. She has hiked
off and on with Dave. Being trail savvy, we explore
that oft-ask question, "Why." Dave gives me the good
news that the gloom, which lingers this morning,
should clear out by noon; then the next four days
should be clear.
It's a very short ride back to Prairieville, where
Mary is waiting to meet and greet me. Mary is a new
and enthusiastic member of Chief Noonday Chapter,
NCTA. In their company, as I shoulder my pack, I say
my morning prayer. Then I'm off toward Battle
Creek. Thanks, Dave; thanks Jan! Great meeting you,
Mary!
On the roadwalk along, I meet some fellows from
Santa Fe, Jeff and Tom, out for an invigorating
morning bike ride.
I am having trouble locating the trail into the
Kellogg/Michigan State University property. Fellow
stops, Ryan. He directs me. He has a Coke, candy,
and a bottle of water for me--and (at his
insistence, five dollars).
Heading to Battle Creek now, I decide to stay MI-96
to the Fort Custer National Cemetery. I linger
there, among the headstones to pay my
respects. Here, Paul greets me, and encourages me as
I continue on Odyssey 2009.
At the cemetery I pick up the Battle Creek Linear
Park Trail, a certified section of the NCT. I hike
it into downtown Battle Creek.
The skies did clear around noon, and save for the
frustration in being unable to stay the trail,
getting lost, through the Kellogg property, it's
been a great day.
As shadows lengthen, and now past Battle Creek, I
find a neat little mom-n-pop motel and haul 'er down
for the day.
|
"So
blessed be the day Your judgment comes due,
And blessed be Your mercies bestowed,
And blessed be this journey, all praises to You,
O'er this path by the side of the road."
[N. Nomad] |
Sunday--June 21, 2009
Trail Day--092
Trail Mile--27.4/551/2494
Location--Marshall, then on to Litchfield
Hey Dave, you're my weatherman! Today dawns a
glorious day for hiking just as your forecast calls
for, the first, hopefully, of many to come. Yup,
sure like your forecast!
I am at the beginning of a transition now, as to the
maps and guides I'll be using to get to and through
Ohio. For over 1,000 miles now I have been relying
on the fine waterproof maps prepared and provided me
by the NCTA. However, the NCTA does not compete with
other trail organizations that already have maps for
trail shared by the NCT. Ahead of me, and coming up
in Ohio, is the Buckeye Trail, a trail followed by
the NCT for nearly a thousand miles, through
western, southern, and eastern Ohio. So, for Ohio, I
will be relying on the latest Buckeye Trail maps
given my by Dan Sheltowee Rogers. Also, I
have been and will continue to rely on the NCT Guide
compiled and written by Wes Boyd some 11 years ago
now. Between the two I hope to find my way along the
NCT through Ohio.
Today is a roadwalk, and on the road into Marshall
this morning I meet Roger and Thelma. They slow then
stop in the emergency lane across. They'd seen me on
the Grand Rapids News the other evening, then again
passing their home a short way back. They've brought
me bottled water and some homemade cookies. At the
convenience store in Marshall, Tina comes up to me
and wishes me well. "Saw you on TV." she
says. Amazing how so many people recognize me from
that one interview; I was on less than two minutes.
I've really covered the ground today. Save for the
short riverwalk through Marshall, which was paved,
I've been on paved county and state highways.
Late evening I arrive Lithfield. There is no place
to stay in Litchfield. So, I either have to find a
place to pitch here somewhere, or head on out of
town. I'm starved, so it's first things first. A
little faith, a little patience--as to a place to
camp the night.
Hey, a Subway right on the corner. This'll work. In
I go! Folks, I know you're not going to believe
this. I can't believe this. While I'm sitting and
polishing off the second half of my footlong, up
comes this lady and her two children. "You need a
place to stay tonight?"she asks. "I heard you
talking to our neighbor awhile ago. We live right
next door. You're more than welcome to stay in our
yard if you like." I'm dumbstruck. I vaguely
remember her and the children. I didn't even speak
to them. And so, I meet Tasha and her two boys,
David and Dillon. Before I can answer, David tells
me they already have a tent set up, which I'm
welcome to use. And Dillon lets me know there's also
a fire ring, should I want a campfire. Well, I sure
accept the offer to pitch in their yard, and as soon
as I've downed my sub, I'm right back to their
house.
They're waiting anxiously. Quickly begins the usual
questions about my hike. All watch and are
fascinated as I set up my tent.
It's been a hard hammer-down day, but aside from
being tired, I've had a great time. Meeting Tina and
her sons really set it off. Thanks folks, for
trusting, for caring, and for your grand
hospitality.
|
"Take the first step into faith. You don't
have to see the whole staircase, just take the first
step."
[Martin Luther King, Jr.]
|
Monday--June 22, 2009
Trail
Day--093
Trail Mile--27.0/578/2521
Location--Litchfield, then on to Hillsdale/Osseo
Well, it was pretty amazing. Tasha, David, and
Dillon, they set me up right in their back
yard. Then they left the porch light on and the back
door unlocked might I have needed their
bathroom. Trusting, kind and caring folks--thank
you, Tasha, David, Dillon.
I believe I've paid my dues, I really believe I
have. The investment--these past 93 days. Fair days
coming, oh will I welcome them. To have fingers that
work. To feel the warmth of the sun on my face. To
have dry trail, dry feet, dry gear. Yes, should I be
so blessed with such days to come, I will be so
thankful. Ah, and today looks to be the makings of
another glorious one. I'm already out and moving a
tad past six-thirty. So easy when it isn't freezing
outside! Oh, I'm sure it'll get a little hot some
days now, but you will not hear a single complaint
from me, not today, not any day, the remainder of
this odyssey.
It's no more than four minutes to the little
mom-n-pop cafe downtown. The morning klatch is
already forming. I'm in for two up, toast, taters,
and half a pot of coffee.
Russ, a freelance writer and program manager, WCSR
Radio in Hillsdale, is interested in interviewing
me. We've corresponded off and on the past few
days. So, I'll try to make that work. Also, Steve,
one of the staff writers, Hillsdale Daily News, has
also contacted me. 'Haps I'll need to slow down and
take a couple of breaks today.
In Jonesville now, at the McDonald's (right on the
trail) I'm sitting my burger and fries when comes up
Steve and his grandson, Devin. I passed their place
yesterday. They were on their John Deere mowers
going at it. Comes over, too, their friend, George,
a Gold Wing rider who also saw me on the road
yesterday. We have a great chat.
From Jonesville to Hillsdale there's a six-mile
certified section of hike/bike path. As I turn to it
from Jonesville, pulls a vehicle to the shoulder of
busy M-99. Here I meet Steve (different Steve). He
drops Mike off, who had expressed an interest in
hiking some with me. Both are active members
(officers, in fact) of the Baw Beese Chapter, NCTA.
Mike can move along, and we're sharing good
trail/life/other conversation till just in front of
Wal-Mart. Comes now Steve from the Hillsdale Daily,
for the interview I'd mentioned earlier. We spend
better part of a half-hour, a fun pause.
On toward Hillsdale, Mike leads me through a new
section of trail--much trail activity in this
area. The Baw Beese Chapter had been on the decline,
but they're again very active, taking on new members
and building new trail.
In Hillsdale now, it's lunch time, so we head
directly to Steve's office. Over lunch, compliments
the Baw Beese folks, I get more time to meet and
talk with Steve. After lunch I bid farewell to Mike
who heads back south on his two-hour trip back home.
Russ, with WCSR Radio, has also been in touch with
Steve about doing an interview, so we head for the
radio station. Russ is in. He drops what he's doing
and we go right into a very fine, very long, live
interview. A relaxing, fun time.
As the evening approaches, the day cools, a perfect
time for a little more hiking. Steve and Russ both
want to hike with me, so we get together, do the
vehicle setup, then trek the six mile section of
certified trail from Hillsdale, past lovely Lake Baw
Beese, to the little hamlet of Osseo.
Steve has some dear friends, Nick and Deborah, who
live not forty feet off the trail in Osseo. He had
called them earlier to let them know we were hiking
their way. They've invited me to stay as their guest
this night. A perfect stranger, but on arriving
their lovely home, do they both extend a most warm
welcome.
|
"A journey is best measured in friends
rather than miles."
[Tim Cahill]
|
Tuesday--June 23, 2009
Trail Day--094
Trail Mile--23.4/601/2544
18.5/620/2563 (end L.P.)
07.9/008/2589 (begin Ohio)
Location--Lost Nation SGA, then on to West Unity,
Ohio
When I arrived Osseo yesterday evening I had already
hiked to within a couple miles of Lost Nation SGA,
my destination for today. The additional miles that
have allowed me to get nearly a day ahead were
accumulated over the past number of days, since
leaving Lowell. So, the trail mile data for today
reflects not only the miles from Litchfield to Lost
Nation, but also today's miles, from Lost Nation to
West Unity.
And so, might we discuss this a few moments--and
address your skepticism. You see, folks just shake
their heads when I answer their question about how
many miles per day I hike. I tell them that to trek
25 miles, or in excess of 25 miles on a daily basis,
is certainly not a superhuman thing. Indeed, it is
easy enough, especially with such kind tread, such
well-groomed trail, the roadwalk miles, and the
longest of the long daylight days, fifteen-plus
hours of daylight now.
Regardless, I'm sure you must be thinking,"This
guy's gotta be taking rides." But I have not; I have
hiked every foot of trail to where I've ended this
day, save the five miles across the Straits of
Mackinac. Believe me, it is true.
I am able to hike at a very comfortable and steady
pace, three-per. To average two and one-half is a
cakewalk, even when I dilly-dally.
So how is it possible, with an itinerary of 25-mile
days consistently (or more), day after day, how is
it possible to get a day ahead?
Okay, here's the answer: Let's pick 14 for the
number of daylight hours. Multiply that by two. We
get 28. Half of 14 is seven. Add that to the 28 and
all of a sudden you've got a pretty impressive
number--35! This number is derived by using an
average of two and one-half per. So, for a high 20s
day, there's plenty of time to do the miles, with
time to spare. And when I shoulder my pack in the
morning, from that time, I seldom take more than two
or three short breaks, sometimes not even bothering
to drop my pack. To hike the miles on into the 30s
just takes more time, of which I've plenty.
Most folks who backpack, nine out of ten, are
members of what I call "The Green Tunnel
Crowd." They like to hike the meadows and mountains,
the wilderness trails. Last place you'll likely ever
catch them is on a hot, busy, four-lane highway. I
tell you that no one enjoys communing with Nature,
no one takes more pleasure from the solitude
experienced along the trails than me. But unlike
most, I do not avoid nor do I shun hiking the roads.
I embrace them, and I take great pleasure in walking
their shoulders. Sure, at times the highway can
become a frying pan, sure it can be noisy and
chaotic. But I've adapted to all of that. I've
adjusted my clothing and gear to it, and have become
accustomed to it. Yes, I take great pleasure in
roadwalking--you might even say that the North
Country Trail is made for the old Nimblewill
Nomad!
I'm nearing my summer packweight now, around six
pounds. Ah, and tomorrow we'll talk more about that,
about my clothing and gear--for the road.
Nick and Deb have a delightful guest cottage right
next their home, and that's where I stayed last
night. Deb told me to hit their back door around
seven. She'd have coffee on and the frying pan at
the ready for sausage and eggs. And what a very fine
breakfast. I'm not much on morning sweets, but no
way can I pass up the homemade rhubarb jam! Over
breakfast I learn that Nick is a Harley
rider. They're both antique collectors, especially
all things nautical.
They've a lovely patio in the back. After breakfast,
we move out there to sit and further enjoy each
other's company--and to finish off the coffee.
A little before eight-thirty, I manage to shoulder
my pack and be on my way. Thanks, Nick and Deb; so
long! Friends made so easily, but alas, I'll not
likely ever see either of them again.
My sincere appreciation, also, to Russ and Steve,
and to the great, enthusiastic members Baw Beese
Chapter, Mike and Steve. I'll likely not see them
again either. So thanks, dear friends, thanks all!
I head out on a roadwalk this morning, generally
south and east, down to Lost Nation State Game
Area. Here will be the last sections of off-road
trail I'll hike here in Michigan. A little
meandering the wooded slopes, a balancing act along
top of a beaver dam, and the trail leads back to the
road.
The interview with Steve yesterday, well, the paper
is out this morning and seems that the NCT (and me)
are front page news! More honking and waving from
passing motorists today. Many folks wishing me
well. North of Waldron, does this vehicle slow, then
stop. I'm handed an ice-cold bottle water and a bag
of tootsie rolls. "Sally, at The Friendly Store read
about you in the paper and found out you were coming
through Waldron. She wants you to stop so she can
meet you when you pass through." It's Cathy and
Lori, and Lori's son, Michael. Lots of
questions. Then picture time.
In Waldron, I stop in to meet Sally. Air
conditioning feels good. I linger quite awhile.
No more than two blocks south in the little village
comes these folks on bicycles. The lady is waving
the newspaper at me. Moments later, another lady,
Cheryl, comes out her front door and hands me a
glass of ice water, an apple, and a bag of homemade
rhubarb cookies. Returns now the bicycle lady, Buffi,
with her daughters, Ashante and Jessi. They gotta
have my picture. Laughing and carrying on--it's a
hoot!
Late afternoon now, and on Territorial Road, I pass
from Michigan to Ohio. In Ohio, the roadwalk
continues on down to West Unity. Here I pick up the
old Wabash Cannonball Railtrail and turn southeast,
toward Wauseon. After a mile or so, I find a place
next the trail by a farmer's field and call it a
day--and what a day!
|
"Focus on the journey, not the destination.
Joy is found not in finishing an activity
but in doing it."
[Greg Anderson]
|
Wednesday--June 24, 2009
Trail Day--095
Trail Mile--24.7/033/2614
Location--Swanton, then on to Oak Openings
Metropark
To trek the highways with any degree of ease and
comfort, the right clothing and gear are
essential. Paramount are the correct shoes and
socks. Believe me, it is impossible to come down
from the green tunnel, to the highway, and hike any
distance with a forty-pound pack, heavy boots, and
standard wool socks. I found that out the hard way
many years ago. I've since made the necessary
changes, have adapted, and so can you. Once you've
become adept at moving along with ease, comes the
reward, the payoff. Up on the ridge, in the green
tunnel, you'll never get to know the people, visit
their communities, see where they live and worship,
work, and play. The varied cultures, the kindness
and generosity, which prevail, these delightful
experiences, up in the green tunnel you remain far
removed.
You don't have to become a gearhead like me to
adjust. It isn't necessary to reduce your packweight
to a measly six pounds. But getting down to ten or
twelve is relatively easy (just expensive). And once
your packweight is manageable, you no longer need
your heavy boots. It's time for some comfortable
shoes. You're likely to tell me your boots are
comfortable, sure, sure. If that's the case, then
why do they remain in the closet, to come out only
when you go hiking? Why don't you wear them all the
time? Hold it--I think I know the answer. It's
because they're heavy, they're hot, and, truth be
known, they ARE uncomfortable. The shoes I hike in
are the shoes I wear every single day, all the time,
every day!
Please take a moment, go to my sponsors page, scroll
down, click on New Balance. These folks make the
very best athletic shoes in the world. They're one
of my most steadfast sponsors. I've worn NB
lightweight cross-trainers for many years, thousands
and thousands of miles. For this trek they've
provided four pair of their super 812s. They are
cool, as in cool to the feet, and absolutely cushy.
I've heard for years, and I have no idea the
dynamics, but I've heard that to take one pound off
your feet (heavy boots), is the equivalent of
dropping four pounds off your back. I didn't believe
it either. However, when I changed from my four
pound boots to New Balance cross-trainers weighing
less than two pounds the pair, I became a
believer--and you will too. A truck needs truck
tires. With your reduced packweight, you are no
longer a dual tandem. If you can just reduce your
packweight to 20 pounds, such an easy task, you are
ready to safely and comfortably switch to low-cut,
lightweight cross-trainers.
Okay, now the socks. I wear Bridgedale socks, again,
the finest athletic sock in the world. Click on
their banner at my sponsors page and learn about the
amazing micro weave process Bridgedale has invented
and perfected. Once you've worn a pair of
Bridgedales you'll never go back to your
burlaps. Now, and for the remainder of the summer
I'll be wearing their "Light and Airy" series sock.
My feet get hot and they tend to sweat just like
yours, but with my Bridgedales and NBs (with top
venting, a feature with my 812s), my feet will
remain cool and dry, even when the tarmac is
blistering.
So, get your packweight down, switch to New Balance
cross-trainers and Bridgedale socks. Oh, and don't
forget your Leki trekking poles. Come down out of
your green tunnel and hike with me. Experience the
unending, ever-present excitement and joy found only
along the highways and byways of our great
nation. We'll do a 25 or 30 together, eh!
To my dismay, I was unable, last, to find a place to
pitch along the railgrade, so I hiked until dusk,
finally pulling off in a farmer's field. I had
considered camping directly on the trail, but I'm
sure glad now that I didn't.
I can't tell there's ever been any effort to keep
motorized vehicles off the trail. I heard them
passing last night.
I'm sure you'll recall me mentioning previously what
my momma told me when I was a youngster. She said,
"Son, if you can't say something kind, just be
quiet." So, this will be a short entry day.
I had great expectations and was much looking
forward to hiking the two legs of the old Wabash
Cannonball Railtrail. I had visions of it being like
the Katy Trail along the Missouri, my home--crushed
limestone base, strict controlled access, numerous,
improved trailheads with a variety of services, from
B&Bs to bike rental and repair. What I find here,
however, is very different. Yesterday evening, then
again this morning, I've hiked in and out of
mud-clogged two-track ruts. The trail is overgrown,
little or no maintenance. Sure has put me in a
funk. So, at the first opportunity this morning, by
a service road to a farmer's field, I turn away from
the railtrail and head for busy US-20. Here I hike
most the remainder of the day, through the villages
of Burlington, Wauseon, Delta, and Swanton. Late
evening, and at Swanton, I turn south on Wilkins
Road to follow the beautiful bike paths through Oak
Openings Metropark--as mapped out by Wes Boyd.
I pitch for the night by a side trail to a small
cemetery plot off Jeffers Road--and proceed to arm
wrestle the skeeters.
|
"Where the voice of the wind
calls our wandering feet,
Through echoing forest and echoing street,
With lutes in our hands ever-singing we roam,
All men are our kindred, the world is our home."
[Sarojini Naidu] |
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Trail Day--096
Trail Mile--25.4/058/2639
Location--Napoleon
On Jeffers, just north of the southwest leg, Wabash
Cannonball Railtrail, I camped last. This morning,
in less than an hour, I'm heading southwest on the
old grade.
Today's already shaping to be another 95-95, those
numbers represent temperature and humidity. Me, my
clothing, my pack, all soppin' soggy already. Not
whining, folks, not whining!
This south leg of the Wabash--another sad
disappointment. It's paved a for a short distance to
Neapolis. So, what motorized traffic it has to bear
(again there is no effort to stop the on- and
off-road vehicles), I'm unable to
determine. However, out of Neapolis, to the
southwest, the grade turns to gravel and dirt
two-track. Here, it's apparent that the railgrade is
primarily used by cars, trucks, and quads. A bit of
the grade here has received minimal maintenance this
season, but most remains neglected and is overgrown.
This trail is called the Wabash Cannonball Railtrail. But
in reality it's no more than a powerline cut with
the customary, accompanying service road. I'm
certainly not out here to voice criticism as to the
how, why, and where this trail leads; I'm here to
hike it. However, I would wager that most all long
distance hikers doing these miles and miles of
zig-zag, at some point along the way, begin
questioning what in the world this is all about.
When my hike east was interrupted yesterday, when I
turned south, then southwest, I was within 15 miles
of Toledo. Why the trail doesn't continue on to
Toledo, there to connect with their metro trails,
and from there continue on to the north and east
legs of the Buckeye Trail, and on to Pennsylvania, I
have no idea. I'm sure there'd be no complaint about
taking the NCT off this long powerline cut I'm now
hiking.
Of course the argument would be: The trail'd miss
Hocking Hills, Old Man's Cave, the Grandma Gatewood
Trail--and the Waynes. So, okay, that's the
rationale, that's the excuse for taking this
incredible round-about segment southwest, then
south, then (finally) east and north again.
Alright, lets visit this conundrum. Just take a look
at how close this incredible detour takes us to the
Ohio River and Kentucky. If Dayton and Cincinnati
fit into this "North Country" scheme, then how could
it possibly be a stretch to include some of the
beautiful lands of Kentucky? Along the Ohio, there
are glorious backroads, where I trekked for miles
during my transcontinental odyssey. Why not take the
trail there? Beats me, folks, sure beats me. Anyway,
I lingered long, had second and third thoughts about
heading southwest, before finally turning away from
Toledo to head southwest yesterday. I guess Toledo's
just not far enough north. Okay mother, okay--quit
grumbling old man; hike, just hike!
The little bit of grade, the slight elevation that
is the old Cannonball, was dug up and piled up from
ditches created along both sides. These ditches are
all overgrown with brush now, filled with stagnant
water, a heavenly breeding ground for skeeters. No
problem for the four-wheelers flying through, but
for the poor, unsuspecting backpacker, it quickly
turns to pure hell. Believe me folks, I can live
with the bugs, and for whatever the duration, suffer
not the least decrease in joy. But when you hear me
whining like this about the bugs, you don't want to
be here--you do not want to be anywhere near here!
Please forgive me for getting on this rant. For the
remainder of this entry, I promise to be positive
and upbeat--though it will be difficult not to talk
about hiking the entire day in the wrong direction.
Just before Liberty Center the trail runs out. And
in town, the grade remains active. From here I've a
roadwalk down to and along the Maumee River, to
Napoleon. Across the bridge I find a little
mom-n-pop motel, work a hiker trash deal. In my
room, I crank the air, shower the salt off my sticky
body, rinse the grimy mush out of my clothes, get my
feet up, and call it a day.
|
"Oh, listen to the jingle, the rumble and
the roar
As she glides along he woodland, o'r hills and by
the shore.
She climbs the flowery mountain, hear the merry
hobos squall.
She glides along the woodland, the Wabash
Cannonball."
[J. A. Roff]
|
Friday--June 26, 2009
Trail Day--097
Trail Mile--23.4/081/2662
Location--South of Defiance, thence to the home
of Bill and Angie, their children, Josh and
Elizabeth
I was able to get a room for the night in
Napoleon. Can't remember a shower feeling so
good. It's great to be clean, to be wearing clean
clothes this morning. With the heat and high
humidity the past number of days I've been sweat
soaked the entire time. Being on the road, with
every passing vehicle, especially the eighteen
wheelers, the constant barrage of dust and dirt
churned up, all of it was caked right to me.
I am having quite a time getting out and going
today. First comes breakfast, then a trip to the
post office to send home more winter gear, then to
the library. I don't have my pack shouldered until
nearly noon.
The exciting thing today is finally reaching the
Buckeye Trail (BT), which shares its tread with the
NCT for over 1,000 miles. I turn onto it at the
Florida Bridge around two. Here the BT follows a
towpath, the Erie, Miami, and Wabash, a shaded dirt
path down to Independence Dam State Park, a
beautiful linear park, lush lawns, all well groomed,
a picnic table for everyone. From the park to
Defiance, it's back on the road again.
Much history in Defiance, clear back to the late
1700s.
Late afternoon and I stop for supper at the little
mom-n-pop cafe just before the turn on Jefferson
Street. From locals at the cafe I learn there's no
motel around here, at least not in the direction I'm
going. None of the motels listed in Boyd's NCT Guide
(now eleven years old) are in business anymore. Even
the Day's Inn is shut down. So, out from the cafe, I
turn on Jefferson and head back toward the trail.
A few blocks south, at a side street, a fellow is
waiting to pull onto Jefferson. As I cross, down
comes the passenger window and the lady asks: "Are
you hiking the Buckeye Trail?"
Short of it--Bill and Angie invite me to be their
guest for the night!
They've got some shopping to do. I'd like to do a
few more miles. The plan to pick me up south of
Defiance works and I'm soon the lucky guy on the
receiving end of some mighty fine trail magic!
Bill and Angie have a lovely home. He's a
chiropractor, she, a wellness educator. Both are
backpackers. In the hiking world they're known as
"Weekend Warriors." We've much in common, so we
share a most enjoyable evening together.
But for a few seconds one way or the other, I'd
never have met Bill and Angie. Ah, isn't it
interesting, how the paths the Lord has set for
us--lead us on. I particularly like the
lighthearted:
|
"When you come to a fork in the road, take
it."
[Yogi Berra]
|
|
Saturday--June 27, 2009
Trail Day--098
Trail Mile--27.0/108/2689
Location--Ottoville, then on to Delphos
Bill and Angie have six cats. Arriving their home
last I was welcomed by their official greeter,
Clara. Clara has known me forever. I just couldn't
remember meeting her!
This morning, very early, I hear the garage
door open and a vehicle leave. Bill and Angie aren't
coffee people. So, to make sure I have a cup of the
finest, Bill had gone out to the corner store. Upon
being called to breakfast, by my place is there a
brimming styro cup of steaming hot coffee. And
breakfast--the eggs, brown-shelled ones, from
scratch-the-ground hens. What a great way to start
the day; thanks, Angie!
Before returning to his office and his busy
practice (Bill keeps Saturday morning hours), and
now for another of those too-familiar sad good-byes,
he drops me back by the Maumee where he'd come for
me last.
A very lovely city, Defiance; beautiful
people, like Bill, Angie, their children, Josh, and
Elizabeth. Thank you, dear new friends, for your
outpouring of generosity and kindness; what a
remarkable moment yesterday evening--I'll never
forget-- when you chose to take me into your home
and your busy lives. Both Bill and Angie someday
want to hike the Appalachian Trail. I urged them to
make sure and read my ditty, "One of these Days."
So again this morning, I am clean, my clothes are
clean, and I'm off to another gorgeous day on the
North Country National Scenic Trail along the canal
towpaths of Ohio.
At Junction, another interesting site along
the canal trail, like Defiance, is rich in both
Indian and pioneer history. Here I hike a new, short
section of tread by the towpath.
Back on the roadwalk I'm passing a
farm. Fellow is mowing his yard. He stops the mower
and beckons me. So, I meet Tim. When he finds I'm
not only hiking the Buckeye, but also the North
Country, he runs to the house to get his wife. So, I
meet Angie. She's active in the Buckeye Trail
Association. Her father, Jerry, was instrumental in
creating, then placing the marker back at the canal
junction--at Junction.
Back on the road now, and at the next
crossing, comes--yup, Jerry! Angie had called to
tell her father about my hike and he's right out
here to greet me and to wish me well. We share a few
special moments. With that far away glint, Jerry
tells how, on those still, quiet nights, he can
often hear the faint, far-off call of the boatmen. I
tell him, how, during similar moments in time, I
hear the Pipes of Pan. Comes now a firm handshake,
an expression, an affirmation of
understanding. Thanks Tim, Angie, Jerry; I'm the
benefactor of your untiring work, your dedication,
the giving of your precious time--thanks!
In Ottoville, I meet Connie. I speak about
my journey. She insists on giving me money for my
next stop-over. In Delphos, where I have supper,
Lori, my waitress--when I speak about my journey,
insists on giving me money for my meal.
|
"Sometimes in the evening I sit, looking
out...The sun sets, and dusk steals over the water.
In the shadows I seem again to see our
Indian village,
with smoke curling upward from the earth
lodges,
and in the river's roar I hear the yells of
warriors, and the laughter of little children as of
old..."
[Waheenee, Hidatsa]
|
Sunday--June 28, 2009
Trail Day--099
Trail Mile--27.0/135/2716
Location--BT, Miami and Erie Canal Towpath,
40-Acre Pond, then on to New Bremen
A pleasant, cool night. I slept comfortably, very
soundly, right next the towpath in downtown
Delphos. I've no more than a five-minute walk back
downtown to the little bakery/deli. Here, I set to
draining their coffee pot while enjoying a four-egg,
cheese, onion, green pepper, and ham omelet, along
with hash browns, and biscuits--and more coffee.
By the pastry case, there's a small glassed-off
cubicle where the baker, Alex, performs his
magic. Though this is Sunday morning, and early
Sunday morning no less, Alex is busy creating a cake
for an infant's party. I watch, fascinated, as the
masterpiece takes form right before my eyes. Alex is
not only a baker extraordinaire, he's also an artist
in his own right. With graceful strokes from his
spray gun (liquid food coloring) he paints the most
joyful and happy animal figures all around.
While he's spinning his cake, creating his work, we
chat. Alex is active as a scoutmaster with the local
cub pack. He enjoys the opportunity to teach kids
about nature, about hiking and camping. He is taken
by the account of my journey. So, a most enjoyable
time--a great few moments shared. Thanks, Alex!
After my disappointment with the Wabash Cannonball
Railtrail, I've made sure not to get my hopes up,
not to have the least of expectations as to the
Miami and Erie Canal Towpath Trail. Good
thing. Heading out of Delphos this morning, through
folks' backyards does this trail go. Most have mowed
clear to the canal bank. And some have placed
barricades. I pass a fellow fishing. He ignores me
entirely. In a lady's backyard now, she turns from
tending flowers, startled, to give me her best "What
are you doing here!"scowl. Past the homes, the
backyards, past the city, the trail/towpath now
leads off through farm fields--corn, soybeans, wheat
and oats, mostly. The strip of public land has been
respected here, by all whose lands abuts the canal,
their crops outside the boundary line. Some have
mowed the grass strip. Others have not. Across the
unmowed sections, the grass is tall, very coarse,
difficult to walk through. Oh, appears there's been
some maintenance this year, places, but scant
little. The trail is not much used, certainly not by
hikers. Mostly, where there's tread, it's two-track,
beat down by motorized vehicles, primarily
four-wheelers.
After these experiences this morning, passing where
I'm not welcome, struggling the unmowed sections, I
pretty much give it up and go the road, SR66,
jumping back to the towpath time-to-time for the
more interesting highlights, like Deep Cut and
Bloody Bridge.
I've had hopes of finding a room in St. Marys. I
could sure use a shower. But the motel here has
(since Wes Boyd's passage) been converted to
apartments, and the hotel downtown is now senior
housing.
At Quick Check I go for the broasted chicken, and at
Wendy's on down, a tall frosty. In New Bremen, it's
dusk now as I beat it back over to the towpath,
where I find a wide spot in the trail and pitch for
the night.
For this odyssey, indeed, for all my journeys, as
daylight comes, as sunset comes, are my days--and is
my life--so managed and controlled.
|
"When one finally reaches the point where
days are governed by daylight and dark,
rather than by schedules, where one eats if
hungry and sleeps when tired,
and becomes completely immersed in the
ancient rhythms,
then one begins to live."
[Sigurd Olson]
|
Monday--June 29, 2009
Trail Day--100
Trail Mile--25.0/185/2741
Location--BT, Miami and Erie Canal Towpath, short
of Newport
Another pleasant, peaceful night on the
towpath. Glad I pitched off to the side, by a wide
spot. Just after first light the runners and walkers
start coming through. Understandable. This section
of trail has a firm gravel base, the sides mowed;
it's very well maintained. If there's been motorized
vehicle traffic here, it's not obvious. A good
feeling, seeing trail being maintained, being used
as intended.
Another cool, clear day. I get the kinks out and get
moving around seven-thirty. I've a short trek down
to Ft. Laramie. Here is an interesting combination:
A traditional Dairy King, and a not-so-traditional
Dairy King Motel; I stop for both!
A short day, but one much deserved (I believe), and
certainly welcome--65 miles the last two
days. Though I seem to grumble and complain, I am of
good spirit, with happy heart; this is a pleasant
journey, 100 days so far.
Martha, sweet owner, cuts the old Nomad a
hiker trash deal. After breakfast at the local
cafe/bar, she's got a room all ready for me. I'm off
the trail and in by eleven!
|
"All paths are the same: They lead nowhere.
However, a path without a heart is never
enjoyable.
On the other hand, a path with heart is
easy--
it does not make a warrior work at liking
it;
it makes for a joyful journey,
as long as a man follows it, he is one with
it."
[Carlos Castaneda]
|
Tuesday--June 30, 2009
Trail Day--101
Trail Mile--23.4/208/2764
Location--Fletcher
Great little village, Ft. Loramie. There's a
library, a bar that serves a super breakfast, and
the post office is right off the main drag
downtown. Oh, and there's the Dairy King for
burgers, fries, and soft ice cream, along with the
Dairy King Motel. Had a relaxing stay; thanks
Martha!
A dandy morning for hiking, cool and cloudy, so
'haps the sun won't be cookin' it today.
Some roadwalk, some nice towpath, and some overgrown
trail south of Lockington.
In Piqua, there's a fine bike path along the Great
Miami River levee. I follow it to US-36 where I
leave the BT/NCT for awhile. There's a certified
section of trail from Yellow Springs to Springfield
that dead ends in Springfield. It runs a fair
distance, and I'd like to hike it. The way it's
situated, though, makes it difficult to hike without
backtracking. If I come at it from the north end
it'll work. So, by hiking over to Urbana, then south
from there on the Simon Kenton Trail, that'll put me
on the north end of the certified section in
Springfield. Problem is, I'll miss Dayton, which has
some fine Metropark trail. In any regard, that's the
reasoning--hope it makes sense.
I turn from the Greater Miami River in Picqua around
three, to hike busy U.S-36 over to Fletcher. I'm in
with lots of daylight/hiking time left, but gotta
hang here for my mail drop in the morning.
Along one of the roadwalk sections today I found the
largest cache of change I've ever run across--21
quarters and five dimes, all laying in a three foot
area by the grass at the edge of the
shoulder. Amazing, just amazing. I stood there with
my mouth gaping, and just stared.
|
"The best things in life are unexpected - because
there were no expectations"
[Eli Khamarov]
|
Wednesday--July 1, 2009
Trail Day--102
Trail Mile--26.2/234/2790
Location--Simon Kenton Trail, County Line Road
I found a place to pitch last in a fence thicket
between a cornfield and a soybean patch about a
half-mile north of Fletcher. A very pleasant night;
I slept soundly.
This morning I beat it back into town a little after
seven to Fletcher Pizza and Carry-Out for breakfast,
where Tom fixes me a dandy four-egg omelet. I make
quick work out of his coffee pot while waiting for
the post office to open.
Fletcher is a mail drop. Here, I'll finally be
changing entirely to my summer gear, the remaining
item being my sleeping bag. I'll drop a few more
ounces by going from a 32-degree to a 42-degree bag.
Great way to start this day--the box from home, my
bounce box, and cards and letters, all waiting at
the post office!
From here to Urbana I have a 20-mile hike on busy
US-36. The day remains cloudy and cool, just perfect
for hiking.
Passing through the little village of St. Paris, I
stop at the cafe there for lunch. They're proud of
their favorite son, Dan, who's on his second
Appalachian Trail thru-hike.
Later in the afternoon I get a phone call from
Brent, who lives in Dayton. He's thru-hiked the
Appalachian Trail, and he and his wife have hiked
the Pacific Crest Trail, plus the Buckeye
Trail. They'd like to come for me this evening and
treat me to dinner in Springfield. Oh yes, we make
the arrangements!
I also call Susan, who's the chair of the Simon
Kenton Pathfinders. In just a short while, she, and
Teresa and Mary come to welcome me to Urbana. The
Simon Kenton folks will be having their meeting
tomorrow evening and I've been invited to
attend. Arrangements are made for me to be picked up
at Oldtown tomorrow afternoon.
I'm hiking south on the Simon Kenton now, and at
seven-thirty, up the bike path comes Brent and Amy,
with their daughter, Oakley. We load and head for
Springfield, where I'm treated to dinner at the
Texas steakhouse. A wonderful meal--thanks dear
friends!
Such a short time to spend with these kind folks as
those inevitable good-byes soon come, back at
Countyline Road. I'm on the trail, and they're to
their long drive home.
|
“I awoke this morning with devout thanksgiving for
my friends, the old and new.
Shall I not call God the beautiful, who daily
showeth himself so to me in his gifts.”
[Ralph Waldo Emerson]
|
Thursday--July 2, 2009
Trail Day--103
Trail Mile--24.2/258/2814
Location--Buckeye Trail, Little Miami Railtrail,
Oldtown
I rolled out my sleeping pad and bag right on the
concrete in the corner of the pavilion. The cold
rain came and went all night, but I remained warm
and dry. I'm awakened by voices around six. Folks
are already into their daily routine, hiking and
biking the Simon Kenton Pathway. I'm out and going
by seven-thirty. Still misting and it's very
cool. Hard to believe, but I've got my wind jacket
on.
On the eastern outskirts of Springfield the trail
crosses old US-40 at Main Street. The breeze has
turned to a very cold wind, and the mist has turned
to rain. To get out of it, I duck into a second-hand
store. I'm hoping to find a cafe somewhere near the
trail, and I'm in luck. Right downtown, behind and
below the tall buildings, is a neat little
mom-n-pop, where I hasten for my coffee fix--and
lunch.
By the time I'm back out the rain has stopped. It's
only a few blocks back to the trail, which I return
to, to continue my trek on the certified section
between Springfield and Yellow Springs.
On a short roadwalk section I find a fine piece to
add to my flatware collection. Don't believe I've
ever mentioned my flatware collection. I can
remember my mother and grandmother referring to
silverware as flatware. Well, what I've been
collecting over the years is the genuine
thing--flatware. Every place setting has been
totally flattened by the constant pounding from
laying in the road. Interesting, and a challenge,
eating with "flat" ware! Today I add another
perfectly flat fork to my ever expanding collection.
I also find a penny folded completely in half. A
great addition to my second, nearly full, Mason jar
of coins found along the roadways over the years.
The rain has quit, turning back to a light mist as I
depart Springfield. South of I-70 the day warms as
the skies begin to clear--jacket comes off. Another
perfect hiking day along the Little Miami Railtrail.
Arrangements having been made, and in the evening,
Teresa, a member of the Simon Kenton Pathfinders who
greeted me yesterday evening, comes to take me from
the trail to Nancy's home near Urbana. I've time for
a quick shower before Teresa loads me again and we
head for the monthly meeting of the Simon Kenton
Pathfinders, at the beautifully restored depot in
downtown Urbana.
The meeting is well attended and I'm asked to say a
few words about my NCT hike. Many questions--for the
better part of a half-hour. Before I sit again,
Nancy introduces me to Ruth, the Mayor of Urbana,
and she presents me with a key to their city. Then
Nancy has a Simon Kenton cap and T-shirt for me. A
very enjoyable time. Hand out lots of cards
Frank and Nancy, and their son, Eric, have me as
their guest for the night.
|
“Every day's a
perfect gift of time for us to use.
Hours waiting
to be filled in any way we choose.
Each morning
brings a quiet hope that rises with the sun.
Each evening
brings the sweet content that comes with work well
done.”
[Unknown]
|
Friday--July 3, 2009
Trail Day--104
Trail Mile--26.7/285/2841
Location--Buckeye Trail, Little Miami Railtrail,
Ft. Ancient SP
A fine night's rest, the guest of Nancy and Frank. I
hear Nancy in the kitchen this morning and I know
coffee will be ready shortly. So, I'm down way
before seven. Super breakfast--sausage and cheese
scramble, complete with veggies.
Nancy is a massage therapist. Her office is here in
her home--separate entrance, with parking. I get the
tour.
I've an appointment with photographer, Jan, and
staff writer, Hanna, Dayton Daily News, so Nancy
gets me loaded and back to the trail. Thanks Nancy,
thanks Frank--and all dear new friends with the
Simon Kenton Pathfinders!
Much time is spent with Jan, along the trail, and
then with Hanna at the depot in Xenia. I'm not back
hiking until after ten-thirty. A fun interview,
though. The article is scheduled to appear tomorrow.
I don't recall being on a trail with so much
traffic. Lots of folks out exercising, riding their
bikes today; I would say hundreds. Another perfect
day to be out hiking and riding.
By the time I reach Spring Valley it's after two, so
I stop at the cafe there for late lunch.
Back on the trail, an old fellow, Jim, stops to find
out where I'm headed. He's not in any hurry, so we
chat. When I tell him I'm hiking to the Adirondacks
he get this puzzled look, then tells me I'm hiking
the wrong direction.
Late afternoon, early evening now, I'm sitting on
the bench in front of the little convenience store
in Oregonia, feeling sorry for myself. I had planned
on having supper at the cafe by the trail right
up--but come to find, it burned down. So, I settle
for some M&Ms, party snacks, a Coke, and an ice
cream cookie.
Clouds are coming in and it's beginning to look like
rain. While I'm trying to decide whether to hike the
three miles on to Ft. Ancient, my destination for
today, or stop now and find a place to pitch around
here, my cell phone rings. It's Stacy. She's hiked
the Appalachian Trail, and had heard that I was
coming through on the NCT. She lives only a few
minutes from here and wants to meet me. No problem
sticking tight, so I tell her to come on down. A few
more minutes, my phone rings again. This time it's
Gordon, the trail angel who supported me all last
year, and at the beginning of this odyssey. Bad
weather in the Rockies; all his hikers went home. He
wants to know what I think he should do. Ha, a
no-brainer. "Come on back east and support me!" I
shout with excitement. Then I asked him where he's
at. "About four minutes from where you're at!" he
shouts back--with much excitement.
Phone rings again. This time it's Matt from
Minnesota--just checking on me to see how I'm
doing. Thanks for remembering, and for taking the
time to call.
In a few minutes, Stacy shows up, followed in a
couple more minutes by Gordon. Is this not
incredible!
I hike the final three miles on down to Ft. Ancient,
where Stacy and her friend, Cindy--and Gordon, are
waiting. The gals invite us to spend the night at
their place--and have dinner! We accept, and we're
soon at Stacy's delightful place, a 50-acre
farm. Here, we meet her sister, Kelly,
brother-in-law, Glen, and their children. Cindy
grills hot dogs while Tracy prepares fresh
vegetables from her garden, beets, green beans, and
lettuce, ah, and berries, blackberries and
blueberries!
A great evening of conversation, talking trail--and
life. Stacy and Gordon (and Sue, Gordon's sister,
deceased) had met on the Appalachian Trail the year
Stacy hiked it!
An amazing day, just amazing.
|
“I thank you God for this most amazing day,
for the leaping greenly spirits of trees, and for
the blue dream of sky
and for everything which is natural, which is
infinite, which is yes.”
[E. E. Cummings]
|
Saturday--July 4, 2009
Trail Day--105
Trail Mile--23.6/309/2865
Location--Buckeye Trail, Little Miami Railtrail,
Miamiville
Ah, that fresh country air coming in my upstairs
window--my head hit the pillow and I never wiggled
all night. Ten after six, Stacy's roosters wake
me. Breaking camp here is quick and easy. I'm packed
and down the stairs in a flash--for coffee, and a
fine breakfast prepared by Stacy and Cindy. Oh yes,
blueberry pancakes.
Perhaps you are getting tired of hearing about the
sad good-byes. If so, you should be party to them. I
just skipped telling you about Nancy and Frank, and
Teresa, and all the dear Simon Kenton Pathfinders;
today, this morning, it's farewell to the dear new
friends here at Stacy's.
Gordon has me back to the trailhead at Ft. Ancient a
little past eight-thirty. We're doing quite well on
getting our act back together after nearly three
months.
On the trail just a few minutes, Jeff calls to find
out where I'm at. Jeff is the author of A Walk for
Sunshine, and A Hike with Mike. He lives in
Glenville, a suburb of Cincinnati. He wants to come
out and hike with me a bit--before showing us how to
get to his place for the night.
Lots of bikers on the Little Miami again today. Mike
and Ted stop to greet me. They'd read the article in
the Dayton Daily News this morning and wanted to
encourage me and wish me well for the remainder of
my hike.
The Little Miami Trail winds around the hills now,
as does the Little Miami River wind.
In the evening, and in the rain, comes my friend,
Jeff. He has hiked out to meet me, then turns to
hike back with me to where I'll end this day.
At Jeff's now, Gordon and I meet his wife, Beth, and
their two children, Madison and William. A lovely
home; just a beautiful family.
|
"You have to love a nation that celebrates its
independence every July 4, not with a parade of
guns, tanks, and soldiers who file by the White
House in a show of strength and muscle, but with
family picnics where kids throw Frisbees, the potato
salad gets iffy, and the flies die from
happiness. You may think you have overeaten, but it
is patriotism." [Erma Bombeck]
|
Sunday--July
5, 2009
Trail Day--106
Trail Mile--24.9/334/2890
Location--Buckeye Trail, East Fork SP, Overnight
Area #1
It was cloudy and cool all the day yesterday, a
perfect hiking day, although at two the mist began,
and by the time Jeff came to hike with me, then show
us to his home a very steady rain had set in. Ah,
what a totally different attitude and
outlook--hiking in the rain and knowing I'll not
have to pitch camp in it!
The rain put a total damper on the fourth of July
activities. All along the Little Miami, folks were
camped for miles and miles, spending time at their
grills or on the river in rafts and canoes. By
afternoon, I could hear little of the boisterous
laughter of earlier in the day--tent time, said
Mother Nature, and no fireworks, a washout, a
totally quiet evening.
It's dark and cool again this morning, another
overcast day. However, this weather is supposed to
clear out by this afternoon and it should turn fair
and warm by this evening.
I long ago departed the flat farmlands of Ohio to
enter the rolling hills along the Ohio River. And as
I leave the Little Miami Railtrail, the flat tread
ends, also. At US-50 I will be near the most
southern point for this trek, having hiked south,
even southwest for the most part of the past 400
miles, clear from Lake Superior in the Upper
Peninsula of Michigan. My direction slowly changes
now, to the east northeast as I head toward
Pennsylvania and New York, and the conclusion of
this odyssey. I am finally going in the right
direction!
Late afternoon, the day has turned quite fair, and
back on the roadwalk near Batavia, a whole group of
folks break from their weekend fun to come to the
road to greet me and to encourage me along. Here I
meet Tom, Gretchen, Michael, Olivia, Jessica, Casey,
Dillon, Kelly. Also, Mark, Adrian, Lisa, and
Coco. What an enthusiastic bunch--just a whopping
boost of energy for the old Nomad! I didn't
want to accept, but Tom insisted I accept their
money, which I promptly give to Gordon to put in the
community account.
In Batavia, and walking the sidewalk comes up this
fellow and daughter. "Are you Nimblewill?"
asks the fellow. And I meet Steve Miller and his
daughter, Becky. Steve is West Union Supervisor,
Buckeye Trail Association. We walk the streets of
Batavia together while Gordon runs to Quiznos for a
sub sandwich for us. At the edge of town, the end of
the sidewalk, and after giving me information for
his section of trail and the trail just ahead, I bid
he and Becky farewell.
At William H. Harsh Lake, East Fork SP, I'm back on
certified trail again for the first time in
days. Not a fun section as the recent rain and the
horse traffic has made a total quagmire of the
tread. I slosh and wallow my way on through to near
Overnight Area #1, where Gordon and Steve are
waiting. Steve tells me he should have invited
Gordon and me to stay at his place tonight, and he's
back out now to extend that invitation. We accept,
we're off and soon reach their lovely, spacious
home. Ah, a hot shower to get the mud and sweat off,
what a blessing!
|
"Friendship is the source of the greatest
pleasures,
and without friends even the most agreeable
pursuits become tedious."
[Saint Thomas Aquinas]
|
Monday--July 6, 2009
Trail Day--107
Trail Mile--24.1/382/2914
Location--Williamsburg
Another great night, the guest of more new
friends. Thanks, Steve, Susan, and Becky!
Forecast is for a number of cool, clear days. Looks
like the weatherman has it pegged for today, as it
looks to be the makings for a glorious day.
I've a very tough section to hike today, the
southern perimeter of East Fork Lake SP. Horses are
permitted on a major portion of it, and with all the
recent rain and the likely activity over the 4th,
this hike today could be a major mud bog.
The first section of trail is hiker only trail and
is well marked, groomed, and maintained, with the
varying terrain making for an enjoyable time. It's
called the Steve Newman World Walker Trail.
I called Steve Newman earlier this morning, but his
wife, Darci said I'd just missed him. Steve's trail
name is World Walker, as he has hiked
around the world. I'd met him while passing through
on my transcontinental trek in '02, and I certainly
want to spend some time with him again this
trek. Steve returns my call and I'm in luck. He and
Darci will be home tomorrow evening, and Gordon and
I are invited to be their guests. This is great!
I also get a call from Richard who's with Clerisy
Press in Cincinnati. Clerisy is the parent company
of Menasha Ridge Press in Birmingham, publishers of
Ten Million Steps, the paperback. I had emailed him
last weekend, in hopes we might get together, but
there just isn't enough time--to do a 25 today, plus
drive the 70-80 miles round trip to
Cincinnati. Perhaps timing will be better this
fall.The Perimeter trail proves to be pretty much
what I'd expected, a near-total quagmire. Much
recent rain, plus many horses on the trail, have
combined to make for industrial mud. I slog my way
along the entire day. Late evening, Gordon is
waiting for me at the East Fork, Little Miami River,
where the trail emerges from the state park--and the
quagmire.
I am very tired, and very muddy. The road Gordon is
parked on is little used, so I open the back doors
on the van, get the big water can out, take a bath,
and wash some of the mud from my clothes.
Gordon has scouted out a mom-n-pop restaurant in
Georgetown, and after I hike the mile to town, we
head there for supper.
It's a short drive to East Fork SP Campground. We're
in and camp is set just at dusk.
|
"Every new
day begins with possibilities.
It's up to
us to fill it with the things that move us
toward progress and peace."
[Ronald
Reagan]
|
Tuesday--July 7, 2009
Trail Day--108
Trail Mile--24.9/407/2939
Location--Russellville
Camped the night at the East Fork River
SP. We had the whole campground to ourselves. I'm
awake at first light, moving about carefully in my
tent as there's condensation inside and dew
outside. I wake Gordon and get him moving. Slow
going for both of us this morning, for some
reason. We finally manage to make it to downtown
Williamsburg, where I resume my hike. We'd had a
fine meal at Mom's last, and we'd looked at their
breakfast menu. So, only a short while hiking this
morning, we break and head back over to Mom's.
Steve (the Buckeye Trail Steve) has scheduled an
interview with Marsha, Staff Reporter, The Clermont
Sun. So, after breakfast, and back on the trail just
a short time, they come out to meet me. We move to
the shade and away from the traffic for an enjoyable
time.
While the interview is going on, Gordon is out
shopping the second hand stores for kitchen gear.
After the interview, and in a short while, Steve is
back with his daughter, Becky, and we hike some of
his trail (road) together.
Late afternoon I call Darci and make plans for
Gordon and I to meet her in Ripley. I can certainly
remember the long, steep hill up to their place, but
I can't remember how to get there.
The Newmans are great hosts and we share a most
enjoyable evening.
|
"The
advantage of a bad memory is that one enjoys
several times
the same good thing for the first
time."
[Friedrich
Nietzsche]
|
Wednesday--July 8, 2009
Trail Day--109
Trail Mile--25.2/432/2964
Location--Buckeye Trail, near Beasley Fork
While passing through on yet another odyssey, what a
joy to again see and spend time with the Newmans,
Steve and Darci. Steve is world renowned as a
walker. World Walker is his trail name. He's in the
Guinness Book of World Records, for he has walked
around the world.
The Newmans last took me into their beautiful home
in Ripley in June, 2002. They offered shelter, fed
me, renewed my spirit, provided me great energy to
continue my transcontinental trek. And now again
they have taken both Gordon and me into their home,
fed us, renewed our spirits, and provided us great
energy. Thanks, Steve and Darci!
I slept soundly last, Gabriel, their gentle lab,
guarding me the entire time. This morning, Steve
sets us up with yogurt, cereal, and fruit, plus a
full pot of coffee to get us going--and a shopping
bag full of energy-packed food. We chat while he
hard boils a saucepan of eggs for us.
Steve is intrigued by Gordon's stories about his
sister, Sue Ellen. And are we likewise intrigued by
Steve's amazing stories about his world encircling
walk. I had made it to the little community of
Russellville last, about 20 miles north of
Ripley. By nine, Gordon has me back there and on the
trail again.
So, on this overcast, cool July morning, a blessing
to this old hiker, I'm off, heading east, fully
nourished, clean, healthy, and strong. A blessing,
indeed, a blessing.
Out of Russellville, and trending generally east,
the Buckeye Trail, and the suggested route for the
NCT, zigs and zags around the back country
roads. Gordon has purchased the Ohio DeLorme, and
we've looked at other more direct routes, primarily
state roads. I settle on SR-125 to get me near the
trails in the Shawnee SF. It's an uneventful day
along that highway.
In the evening, after a bit of exploring, we find a
spot to park the van, up a two-track to an old
dilapidated barn. I set up the folding table, get
the Coleman cook stove out and fire it up to prepare
supper--just like the good old days!
|
"Reflect upon your present blessings, of which every
man has plenty;
not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have
some."
[Charles Dickens]
|
Thursday--July 9, 2009
Trail Day--110
Trail Mile--23.5/456/2988
Location--Buckeye Trail, Shawnee SF, Brushy
Creek, then on to near Wamsley
Another unusually cool morning. I start out wearing
my wind jacket. We head directly to the convenience
down the road for coffee. This day is starting out
right.
More roadwalking to reach the Shawnee SF; we're
there by eleven. Here is the first offroad section
in quite some time, but it is totally overgrown with
brush, briars, and brambles, so it's back out to the
road. Here I've reached the southernmost point for
this trek.
On down the road I find the next offroad section to
be through recent burnover and clearcut. More
roadwalking as hiking (say stumbling) through
clearcuts or burnovers (a desolation of char and ash
everywhere) is no fun--both, well, I stay the
road! The third segment of offroad I find to be
superb, an absolute joy to hike, rugged tread along
and across narrow saddles, like the Swag of the Blue
Ridge.
It's been a very long hiking day, a mixed bag, what
with the poor sections--and the good.
We pitch for the night, again, by an old barn.
|
"Not all those who wander are lost."
[J. R. R. Tolkien]
|
Friday--July 10, 2009
Trail Day--111
Trail Mile--23.9/480/3012
Location--Wamsley, then on to near Louden
Funny deal last evening. Could have been a bad deal,
considering, but ended up okay. What happened was:
To stay the night we found another old barn off by
itself, no gate by the road, no posted signs. We
maneuvered the van in behind the barn so it couldn't
be seen from the road. Great view out across the
countryside, beautiful sunset as we sat in our
lounge chairs enjoying supper. Then we heard a
strange noise, bumpety-bump, bumped-bump. "What's
that noise?" I ask Gordon. Bumped-bump,
BUMPED-BUMP. "Don't know," he said, "But it's coming
around the barn whatever it is." I could see the
nose of the Jeep, then the hay wagon hooked to
it--then the driver. The farmer stops, shut the
engine off, then looks at us, just sitting and
staring back at him. Big smile from the man as I
finally get up and walk toward him, apologizing all
the while. A very friendly fellow, name is
Salisbury. The place isn't his, it's his
brothers. He just caretakes the farm. I explain why
we're parked by the barn, give him one of my
cards. Tell him we'll pick up and leave if he says
so. "No need," he replies, "Just don't leave a mess
for me to clean up." Another kind smile, and he
bumped-bumps on down the pasture. Whew, that sure
worked out okay!
We're up and out early. Another beautiful morning.
Today's mostly a roadwalk, up and down the hills of
southern Ohio. The many dogs along provide the
entertainment and the excitement. Every place,
especially the old trailers that are slowly sliding
down the hill, all have at least two dogs. One place
had over 20. Sure glad I carry trekking poles!
No shoulders and busy roads make for a tiring
day. There's one grand, short off-road section
through the Davis Memorial Wildlife Refuge. Lots of
pictures.
For the evening, Gordon is able to find a spot for
us to park the van, in the minister's yard,
Louisville Baptist Church.
|
“Let us be grateful to people who make us happy;
they are the charming gardeners who make our
souls blossom.”
[Marcel Proust]
|
Saturday--July 11, 2009
Trail Day--112
Trail Mile--26.6/507/3039
Location--Louden, then on to Pike Forest Ranger
Station
I've carved a spot out in the back of Gordon's van
and have been spending the nights there instead of
on the ground in my tent. Much easier breaking
camp--no camp to break, and I don't have to fuss
with a wet tent from the condensation and dew. And
Gordon says he doesn't mind the company.
The day begin clear but soon turns cloudy. Forecast
is for rain, possible thunderstorms, this afternoon.
First stop is Serpent Mound. I'd passed this ancient
Indian ceremonial ground during my transcontinental
trek in 2002, and have been much looking forward to
visiting here again. The gate is open and we drive
right in. It's early so we're the only ones
here. Serpent Mound is quite an impressive place and
I am awestruck once more, much the same as during my
first visit.
We were looking forward to breakfast in Sinking
Spring, but the little cafe I remember being here is
closed down, so we settle for coffee at the
convenience store and continue on.
There's a mixture of road and trail today. The
section of off-road through Fort Hill State Memorial
is very enjoyable, as it is marked and well
maintained. As I complete that section I have
trouble finding the trail over to Bell Hollow Road
and end up walking SR-41 and Bell Hollow around. The
next two offroad sections have been poorly
maintained. However, I do hike to Turner Hill, then
on to Pike Forest Ranger Station--by trail. I emerge
at the road wet, muddy--and bleeding. The greenbriar
have literally taken over the trail, and along with
the many blowdowns, this off-road is certainly no
fun. The kind Ranger at Pike Forest has given us
permission to overnight by the service/garage
area. It's dusk by the time we've finished dinner
and have everything put away.
|
"A difficult time can be more readily endured
if we retain the conviction that our existence holds
a purpose -
a cause to pursue, a person to love, a goal to
achieve."
[John Maxwell]
|
|
Sunday--July 12, 2009
Trail Day--113
Trail Mile--26.8/534/3066
Location--Morgantown, then on to Waverly
The rain of yesterday (we did have a good bit of
rain yesterday) gave it up early evening, and during
the night the skies cleared. This morning it's warm
and muggy, with much fog, but that should burn off
quickly.
First stop is the convenience/hardware in Latham for
coffee (of course) and a few supplies. By the time
Gordon has me back on trail (say road), the day has
turned clear and sunny.
The last section of off-road yesterday, into Pike
Forest Ranger Station, was slow, difficult
going--brush, briars and blowdowns. I emerged wet,
muddy, and cut up. So, the decision today is to
avoid these unmaintained Buckeye Trail sections as
they're not only no fun at all, but they're
dangerous. At Morgantown, the trail from Auerville
Road looks to be passable, so I head in. Bad
decision. Although this section is named in honor of
Jim Sprague, Buckeye trail builder, it leaves much
to be desired. When first constructed it would have
been a very enjoyable hike. But now, with near the
whole tread scraped clean and wide by a tracked
excavator, well, please don't ever name a trail
after anyone that looks like this one!
The next section of off-road used to lead out of
Pike Lake SP, over toward Nipgen, but no more. 'Haps
it had become so neglected that no one was
attempting to hike it, so it's been closed down. The
route now is a roadwalk.
Late evening, and down Pennington Road out of
Denver, I'm looking forward to hiking the short 1.6
mile segment over to US-23, but when I get here--no
way. Not 20 feet off the road the trail is so choked
with greenbriars that to attempt it without a
machete would be impossible.
This is truly frustrating, that I'm unable to hike
hardly any of the Buckeye Trail off-road sections
now due to lack of maintenance and neglect.
More roadwalking now, on down to Waverly, to get
around this brushed up and neglected trail.
I arrive the main drag in Waverly around
eight. Gordon loads me and we're off to the Amerinn
Motel west of town. A very frustrating day, not
being able to hike the Buckeye.
|
"Frustration, although quite
painful at times, is a very positive and essential
part of success."
[Bo Bennett]
|
Monday--July 13, 2009
Trail Day 114
Trail Mile--26.3/560/3092
Location--Buckeye Trail, Scioto Trail SF, Stony
Creek, then on to Tar Hollow SF, Londonderry
The 1.6 mile section I was unable to hike yesterday
evening has turned into a seven mile roadwalk to get
around it. I'm not back hiking till after nine, so
by the time I complete the detour it's almost
noon. There are some hiker-only sections in the
Scioto Trail SF. I find them passable, but there's
been no maintenance this season, at least that I can
tell, so there's plenty of blowdowns, brambles, and
brush to get through.
Crossing the Scioto River I decide to bypass Tar
Hollow SF. There's trail in the forest, but sections
of it were decertified over ten years ago due to
tread damage from horses and ORVs. The current
brochure for Tar Hollow SF shows those same trails,
no changes after ten years. If they were bad then,
what condition are they in now--I hike around Tar
Hollow!
The detour proves delightful, through a fertile
valley. Neatly-kept farms, lush green fields of corn
ripening in the warm sun--just a delightful hike.
Late evening, Gordon makes friends with Don, who's
out mowing by the road. Next thing you know, we've
got a place to park the van for the night.
Looking forward to the Grandma Gatewood Trail and
Old Man's Cave, coming up later tomorrow.
|
"It is often the detours in life that allow us to
experience things we might otherwise miss."
[Linda
CyWiz Stolte]
|
Tuesday--July 14, 2009
Trail Day--115
Trail Mile--23.5/583/3116
Location--Buckeye Trail, past Tar Hollow SF to
Old Man's Cave
Hard to believe that in Ohio, in July, I'd need my
jacket, but it's sure cool enough this morning, and
the jacket feels good.
The Scioto River Valley is a very lovely valley. The
farms are all well kept, the grass, even by the
cornfields, is mowed. Everyone has at least one dog,
so I'm constantly greeted as I pass each
farmhouse. People keep stopping to see if I'm okay,
to find out where I'm going, to offer me a ride.
By mid afternoon the tarmac starts cooking as the
day has turned very hot. I'm glad to reach Ash Cave
and the shelter of the trail.
The section from Ash Cave to Old Man's Cave is named
after Emma Gatewood. Grandma, as she was
affectionately known by all, was one of the first
women to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail.
During my transcontinental trek of '02, I hiked Old
Man's Cave. It was one of the highlights of that
odyssey, so I've been looking, with much
anticipation, to hiking here again.
By three, I'm at Ash Cave, and by five, Old Man's
Cave. It has once again proven to be a memorable
hike, well-kept trail, remarkable cliff formations
and overhangs. I take lots of video shots, many
pictures.
Folks at the private stables right next the park
permit us to stay the night in their parking lot.
|
"For the love of nature is healing, If we will only
give it a try.
And our reward will be forthcoming, If we go deeper
than what meets the eye."
[Emma Grandma Gatewood, GAME '55]
|
Wednesday--July 15, 2009
Trail Day--116
Trail Mile--53.0/636/3169
Location--Buckeye Trail, Hocking SF, Pine Creek,
then on to Logan
It's such a blessing having support again. I'm able
to get out and going so much faster from the van
than from my tent. I'm pack shouldered and hiking
before seven this morning. My jacket's on
again. Hard to believe the mornings are cool enough
to need a jacket, but I would be very chilled
without it.
You can see from my daily stats that over the past
number of days I've managed to accumulate enough
miles to pick up (get back) another day. With
relatively cool days, near-perfect hiking
conditions, plus the long hours, it's a fairly easy
process. Just gotta stay on trail and go. In one of
my previous entries I went into an in-depth
discussion about the subject of long-mile days.
I'm now getting email and guestbook entries at my
website marveling about the fact that I am so
amazingly far ahead of schedule. The comments have
been very positive, encouraging, and most kind. But
I know what folks must be thinking. They're
thinking, "This guy has gotta be taking
rides. There's just no way, with his daily,
high-mile itinerary, that he could get so many days
ahead, otherwise."
Well, first, for you doubters, and you should all be
doubters, I swear to you now that I have hiked the
entire distance, every foot, from Lake Sac, North
Dakota, to where I'm at this moment, Logan--no
rides, no gaps, save the trails bypassed for now,
and the five-mile ride across the Straits of
Mackinac.
As to being (so it appears) so many, many days ahead
of schedule, please know that I am not ahead at all,
but am actually on, day for day, as to my itinerary.
Here's what has happened: If you'll look at my
itinerary, day one, there you'll see the date, March
27th. If you go to my first journal entry, you'll
find that I actually began on March 22nd, a full
five days earlier. So, immediately, I gained five
days. You will recall that, due to circumstances at
the time, I bypassed both the Border Route and the
Superior Trail(s). I had allowed ten days to hike
those two trails. Not hiking them put me another ten
days ahead, for a total of 15. So, since these
adjustments were never made to my daily itinerary
dates, let's do that now, let's figure how I'm
doing, schedule-wise. Okay, for Logan, to be on
schedule, I should be arriving here 15 days earlier
than my itinerary shows. That would be July
15th. This is July 15th. So, in reality, I'm not
early at all, but am spot on!
As it's worked out, looks like timing is such that I
might be blessed with perfect weather (early
September) to traverse the High Peaks in the
Adirondacks, from there to complete this incredible
odyssey at Crown Point. However, at Lake Champlain,
this odyssey will not be complete, for as you may
recall I had to bypass many miles of trail back in
late winter, in the Arrowhead of Minnesota, the
Boundary Waters Canoe Area. And where is the
northernmost point along the North Country Trail? Oh
yes, it's along the Border Route Trail and the
Superior Hiking Trail. And so, if this journey is to
be a complete thru-hike, then I must return to
Minnesota and hike those trails this year. So, the
urgency, the singular intense focus, that I stay--I
must stay--the itinerary daily schedule. Otherwise,
I'll again end up suffering the brutal winter
conditions, the snow and ice of the far north
country. It was 25 yesterday, it's 25 today--and
it'll be 25 tomorrow and every day until this trek
is thru.
The hike today is a roadwalk to Logan. I follow
state roads for the most part instead of zig-zagging
the lesser-used (and more dangerous) backroads. Motorists
along all treat me kindly, and the day passes
quickly; an enjoyable hike.
The night here in Logan is spent in the motel
downtown.
|
“Interruptions can be viewed as
sources of irritation or opportunities for service,
as moments lost or experience gained,
as time wasted or horizons widened.
They can annoy us or enrich us, get
under our skin or give us a shot in the arm.
Monopolize our minutes or spice our
schedules, depending on our attitude toward them.”
[William Arthur Ward]
|
Thursday--July 16, 2009
Trail Day--117
Trail Mile--26.2/662/3195
Location--Buckeye Trail, Wayne NF, Burr Oak, then
on to Dock #2, Primitive Camp Area, Burr Oak SP
A very pleasant stay, a comfortable night in
Logan. Enjoyed a high octane spaghetti dinner at the
little mom-n-pop cafe downtown last evening. We're
right back there first thing this morning for eggs,
biscuits and gravy--and a pot of coffee.
Gordon manages to get me back on trail a little
after eight. I'm proud of myself for getting out as
early as I did. I will be hiking this morning in the
Burr Oak section of the Wayne NF. Much of this area
is reclaimed strip mine land (coal). The first
section of certified trail, a short bit of bridal
path north of Oreville, has been well maintained--by
horses, the traffic not heavy enough to cause
serious damage. Hiking these short off-road
sections, the intervals between roadwalks along the
back township roads, are most pleasant.
Logan was a mail-drop. It took two trips from the
post office to get everything to the van. I've had
Dwinda send me many things I wouldn't otherwise have
if not for the van--jeans and a tee-shirt, for
example. She's sent two boxes. Honey and Bear sent a
care canister. Lylis, Dwinda's sister, sent a large
package (more goodies). My bounce box is here. And
there are cards and letters from family and
friends. Hit the jackpot, sure enough!
I now also have my last pair, of the four pair of
812s provided by my sponsor, New Balance. I'll
switch to them during the next hundred miles or so.
Again, and I can't comment enough, It's just such a
blessing, a great luxury having Gordon's support.
The off-road sections where there has been either
horse or ORV traffic, the trail is open and
passable. But the hiker-only sections are at best
very difficult to hike. We are unable to find the
short segment above Murray City. Searching, and
hiking along, I find blazes leading to Murray
City. Apparently this short section has been
abandoned, likely due to lack of use--and no
maintenance. Other than in the monuments (Serpent
Mound) and the Ohio State Parks (Old Man's Cave),
there's been no maintenance anywhere along the
Buckeye Trail, this season, and not for a very long
time. Sections designated hiker only, those getting
little or no use, are choked with brush, briars, and
blowdowns. I have grown weary of such tread, bloody
arms and legs from greenbriar, multiflora rose, and
other assorted brambles (blackberry)--and my
clothing all snagged-up and tattered.
So I decide to bypass the off-road sections just
after the abandoned segment (as they'll be in the
same shape)--and go the highway to Glouster.
From Glouster to Burr Oak SP is a short roadwalk. We
intercept the trail again on Lodge Road. Here, we
call it a day and return to the primitive camping
area by Dock #2.
Hopefully, tomorrow I'll find the trail up and
around Burr Oak Lake to be in better shape, this
being a state park.
|
"You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and
put miles between you,
but at the same time you carry them with you in your
heart, your mind, your stomach,
because you do not just live in a world but a world
lives in you."
[Frederick Buechner]
|
Friday--July 17, 2009
Trail Day--118
Trail Mile--25.4/687/3220
Location--Buckeye Trail, Wayne NF, Goshen Creek,
then on to near Stockport
We'd talked last evening about having breakfast at
the Burr Oak Lodge. Gordon had gone over to check it
out, even brought back a copy of the menu.
The dining room opens for breakfast at seven and
we're right there--coffee for starters, then an
energy packed breakfast, eggs, biscuits and gravy.
A section of trail by the lake is named after Bob
and Mary-Lou Paton. It's located up from the lodge,
where I ended my hike yesterday. Gordon gets me back
there and I head out. I'm not surprised to find that
it's not in much better shape than other of the
Buckeye sections hiked. The Paton is hiker-only
trail, so there's been no help from the horseyback
and ORV folks' passing. Someone (bless their heart)
has been through recently with a pair of
loppers. However, what is sorely needed is a good
pass with a DR brush cutter and a chainsaw.
Shortly past the Paton Trail I move back to the road
and hike it to Chester Hill.
A short distance east of Chester Hill, after passing
private property (of Roger on one end and Charles on
the other), the trail crosses an old covered bridge
that's in exceptionally good condition.
Some old abandoned roads, more private property
through fields and along a creek and the trail
emerges by CR-792. Here we call it a day.
|
"What stories could these
bridges tell
If they could only talk?
They'd tell us of the ones who rode
And those who had to walk,
The rich, the poor.....those in-between
Who used their planks to cross,
The soldiers, farmers, businessmen
In buggies, sleighs, by "hoss",
Like sentinels these bridges stand
In spite of flood and fire,
Their rugged, stalwart strength remains
Our future to inspire."
[Unknown] |
Saturday--July 18, 2009
Trail Day--119
Trail Mile--24.6/712/3245
Location--Beverly, then on to Marietta
Gordon's van is long, and it's even longer when
trying to turn it around on a narrow two-track, the
road where I ended the day yesterday. Gordon managed
to get it turned, but only after five minutes of
jacking the steering wheel lock-to-lock, moving only
inches each time. It was a good spot to park, a
dead-end road from where the trail emerged.
Another cool, jacket-on morning. Another day of
constant roadwalking, as the NCT departs from the
Buckeye to head east, into the Eastern District,
Wayne NF. There's 36 miles of certified trail to
hike in Wayne East, all NCT.
The highlight of this day is searching for and
finding the site, a photo of which graces the cover
of Dan Sheltowee Rogers' great book,
America One Step at a Time. After driving the
backroads up and around, we finally locate it, on
the Buckeye Trail near Relief. It was an emotional
time for me. Sheltowee is a very dear
friend, his book a beautiful story about his walk
across most of America--an easy and fun read. Oh,
and incidentally, yours truly had the pleasure of
writing the foreword. You can get a copy at
www.sheltoweehikes.com. Check
it out.
I reach Marietta city limits (in another downpour)
at six. Gordon lifts this soggy old hiker from the
road, and we roll over to Ryan's Steak House, then
on to Wal-Mart Inn (the superstore parking lot) for
the night.
|
As we cut into Mother
Earth
To rob her heart,
Oh, my friend, I hear you cry,
And to this day I wonder why
The words you spoke we could not hear.
All I can do, my friend, is add a tear.
We didn’t understand
then your wisdom and foresight,
So now we dwell in our own refuse.
We wrote down your words and still preach them today
But we have yet to hear what you had to say.
Oh, where are the bear,
the buffalo, the wapiti?
We have traded them to make room for hay
And now the silence of your forest
Is disrupted by the trucks that haul Mother Earth
away.
A tree will lean to get
to the light
Nature is that way
But what will the tree do when there is no more
light?
How many more
mountaintops will we blow up
To make room for another ski resort?
How many more marshes will we drain and fill
To make room for another Wal-Mart?
Oh, Tecumseh, will we
ever listen to your words
And comprehend your wisdom?
Or will we just add a tear?
[Dan Sheltowee Rogers]
|
Sunday--July 19, 2009
Trail Day--120
Trail Mile--24.7/737/3270
Location--Wayne NF, Sitka, then on to near
Deucher
The night in the van at Wal-Mart worked fine. Only
problem: Sweeper in the parking lot just kept going
round and round.
I'd reached the city limits of Marietta last
evening. From there to Wal-Mart, across town, turned
out to be six miles, and it was slow going. But
today being Sunday, and the fact we're out a little
after seven, well, we're back across town in no
time.
The suggested route for the NCT goes directly
downtown, across an old railroad-turned-pedestrian
bridge over the Muskingum River, then into the old
historic business district.
Hiking through, and being breakfast time now, we
decide to go for the finest, the old Lafayette
Hotel. It's right on the river, near the confluence
of the Muskingum and the Ohio, a quite
well-preserved high rent establishment.
I've more roadwalking to do before reaching the
certified sections of trail in the Wayne. Arriving,
I cross another covered bridge first thing. There
are blazes both sides of the old bridge, even a set
of double directional blazes on the east side, but
I'm unable to find another blaze anywhere. The road
leading from the covered bridge is private, as is
the land above the Little Muskingum River. Since the
covered bridge I crossed yesterday had private land
both sides, I gave little thought to the fact that
the road over which the trail passes here is also
private. I'm well down the lane now, and through a
gate sporting a "Keep Out" sign. No more than 50
yards inside the gate, a lady drives up. I can tell
right away she isn't happy. Soon as she stops I
hasten to explain that I'm looking for the trail.
"This is private land, and this is a private
road--there is no trail here." her tight-lipped
reply. The woman is obviously perturbed. Actually,
she's just plain mad!
A comment in Wes Boyd's Guide, now some eleven years
old, should have given me a heads up. "Hutchins in
1990 found the trail weedy and overgrown in this
section, with possible private land crossing
problems, but the situation reportedly has
improved." NOT! I'm back out the gate and off the
lady's place pronto. Across the covered bridge once
more, I take the (public) road to Sitka!
After this bumpy start, I'm set to hike my first
section of certified trail in the Wayne. Very slow
going, what with the weeds, briars and brush choking
the trail, along with plenty of blowdowns. It
appears no one has hiked through here recently, and
it also appears there's been no maintenance for a
very long time, at least two hiking seasons or more,
I'd say. After losing my way and getting bloodied up
by the briars, I give it up, break out, and return
to the road. Late evening, Gordon finds a logger's
landing in the forest, and we hang it up for the
day.
|
"If history could teach us anything, it
would be that private property is inextricably
linked with civilization"
[Ludwig von Mises]
|
Monday--July 20, 2009
Trail Day--121
Trail Mile--26.3/763/3296
Location--Wayne NF, Glass, then on to Sprague
Another very cool morning. I start out with my wind
jacket, and as the rain begins, off it comes and on
goes my poncho. The rain comes and goes all day. I'm
getting good at poncho on, poncho off--while still
hiking.
East of Deucher I'm on some fine trail, the tread
clear, the trail wide--from all the mountain bike
traffic.
I had hoped that since the trail in the Wayne was
NCT trail only, not shared with the Buckeye--I had
hoped, even had great expectations, that the
certified sections would be well maintained. But I
am suffering the same disappointment all over again,
as with the Buckeye Trail early on. Here in the
Wayne, it's almost as if the trail has been
abandoned. Lack of use justifies lack of
maintenance, with the reverse also being true--and
it all spirals down.
Early afternoon I hike into the last certified
section of NCT in the Wayne--and hike right back
out. Briars, brush and blowdowns, and the last two
days, nature's other nasty, stinging nettle. In the
low, open areas the stinging nettle is head high,
totally obscuring the trail.
It took a full day of roadwalking to depart the
Buckeye and get over here to the Wayne, and today
I've begun the long roadwalk back.
A waste of time to hike the Wayne? Perhaps not a
waste of time, but it has certainly been a
disappointment, to say the least.
Late afternoon we leave the Wayne NF behind.
Joe, a kind fellow Gordon met in Sprague while
waiting for me to catch up, said it would be okay
for us to park for the night in the Stafford/Sprague
School parking lot, another three miles up the
road--and that's it for today.
|
"Life is not about waiting for the storm to
pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain."
[Author Unknown] |
Tuesday--July 21, 2009
Trail Day--122
Trail Mile--26.1/789/3322
Location--Wayne NF, Summerfield, then on to
Senecaville
A quiet night in the school parking lot. Another
jacket-on morning. A mixed bag as far as the weather
is concerned. It's raining as we depart and return
to the trail. There's thunder in the distance, and
dark rain-laden clouds loom, but I am spared the
barrage, as the storm moves off to the northeast.
It's a forty-minute hike on up to Sandbar Road where
Gordon lifts me from the trail and we head for
Stafford--hoping to find a little mom-n-pop cafe for
breakfast. We're in luck. A fine establishment,
Nellie's, owned and operated by Debbie, Nellie's
daughter. She's the youngest of nine girls. Five
boys make it fourteen for the family. The locals
just left, so we've got the place. Gordon and I both
order omelets, plus coffee. Lots of memorabilia
adorning the place, pictures, newspaper clippings,
plenty to ask Debbie about. Come to find she and her
husband are both Elvis fans. Personal snapshots with
Elvis. Debbie likes Loretta Lynn, and David Allen
Coe. David Allen was born near Stafford. Joe, the
fellow Gordon spoke to last evening is a second
cousin to David Allen. Debbie is surprised to know
that my friend, Bobby, from my hometown in Missouri,
drove David Allen's bus for a number of years.
Out of Stafford, and back to the trail, the day has
come around nicely, scattered clouds, still
cool. Next stop is Summerfield, the General Store,
as we work our way back over to the Buckeye Trail
(opposite direction we need be going--again). Time
for a Coke and a hand-dipped sugar cone of Hershey's
finest before returning to the road.
Late afternoon I rejoin the Buckeye at the Buffalo
Hills Campground. Blue blazes again, for the
shortest while. More disappointing trail as I
struggle to work my way through. Trees grow out,
becoming larger in diameter. Faint blazes that are
wider than tall give a clue as to how long ago they
were painted up. I finally quit trying to find
blazes and just work my way toward coordinates I've
set just outside the campground. I'm off a couple
hundred yards where I emerge at SR-574--where Gordon
awaits. A short walk down the sidewalk by the
Baptist Church property, and it's back in the woods
again. More disappointment. There's little evidence
of traffic; no evidence of maintenance. I again
break out a couple hundred yards shy of where Gordon
again waits. From here it's a short roadwalk down to
and across Seneca Lake Dam. On the dam, I've great
views along the east shore, many homes and cabins
gracing it.
Another short roadwalk from the dam to Senecaville,
and we call it a day. Gordon drives us up to the
truck stop at I-70, where we get a room for the
night.
|
"We must accept finite
disappointment, but never lose infinite hope."
[Martin Luther King, Jr.]
|
Wednesday--July 22, 2009
Trail Day--123
Trail Mile--26.3/815/3348
Location--Old Washington, then on to Londonderry
The Shenandoah Truck Stop in Old Washington is a
true oasis. We headed there after ending for the day
in Senecaville last. Very reasonable motel rate;
fine food. Even did a couple loads of laundry. Clean
bodies, clean clothes, full tummies--yup, a true
oasis!
A cloudy, cool morning; looks to be the makings for
another perfect hiking day.
I begin the day on the road, from Senecaville to Old
Washington. North of Old Washington I enter the Salt
Fork SP and a quite remarkable section of certified
trail. Seems there's just no middle ground as far as
trail conditions are concerned. Sure the opposite
extreme here, three and one-half miles of manicured
woodsroad, not a blowdown, grass bush-hogged out six
feet both sides of the trail. Sure a change from the
greenbriers, Ma Natures razor wire.
Late afternoon and just past Tuttle Road, there's a
short section of trail across private property. At
the farm down from where the trail enters, I meet
Clara. I ask her if the trail still crosses her
property and if I might have permission to hike
there. A very kind lady, Clara. We have a long
chat. I'm given permission to pass--and
directions. Thanks Clara.
Once I enter Clara's property, I see immediately
that the trail here will be the highlight of this
day. It's a mowed path, and there are several. The
three that I hike are Tower, Shamrock, and Snowy
River. I even find Lost Lake!
Late evening Gordon lifts me from the road and we
head for Skull Fork Covered Bridge, a most
picturesque setting. Here we call it a day.
|
"Extreme positions are not succeeded by moderate
ones, but by contrary extreme positions."
[Friedrich Nietzsche]
|
Thursday--July 23, 2009
Trail Day--124
Trail Mile--24.5/840/3373
Location--Smyrna, then on to near Deersville,
Fort Steuben Scout Reservation
We parked the van right on the trail last, by Skull
Fork Covered Bridge, another of Ohio's beautiful,
well-maintained covered bridges. Time was when
covered bridges served a purpose. Back then, Ohio
had more covered bridges than any other state, with
over 2,000. Now they're just historic sites.
It rained off and on all night, hard enough at times
to wake me from a sound sleep. Sleeping under a tin
roof is different than sleeping under sil-nylon, oh
yes, different in many ways, all of them good.
There are no blazes anywhere in Smyrna. They simply
end on Covered Bridge Road before reaching
Smyrna. It's the same problem we've encountered
elsewhere when trying to find the beginning of
certified trail--no blazes at critical
turns/intersections. We look around but waste little
time, as we expect this segment to be overgrown and
impassable like most others. Here's a quote from Sue
Lockwood's journal back in 1994, as written by
Gordon: "Outside Smyrna, impenetrable brambles
forces us off cut trail and on to the highway." I
hike the highway north, past Piedmont Lake to
Clendening Lake.
At Clemdening Lake a certified section of trail
passes around the upper lake shoreline for nine
miles. I'm hesitant about hiking it, but this is the
last section of the Buckeye left with any distance
to it, so I head in. I was hoping to find conditions
different, but, as with almost all the Buckeye
hiker-only trail, it's not been maintained--a tough
nine miles of briars, brambles, and blowdowns. Takes
me four hours to finally emerge at SR-799, tired,
wet, and bloody.
My dear friend, Dan Rogers, was the camp director at
Fort Steuben Reservation Scout Camp a few years
ago. It's just off the trail here at Clendening
Lake. He had urged us to stop in when passing
through. So, while I'm hiking the trail around,
Gordon goes over to check the place out.
Good news: We're invited to camp there for the
night, and to join them for dinner at six.
Gordon is waiting for me where I break out of the
woods and we head right over to Fort Steuben.
Fuzzy, the Camp Ranger, gets us squared away, and
we're set for the night.
A great time with the staff and scout packs at
dinner. Many of the staff know Dan. So, after dinner
I get them all lined up for a picture--to send on to
Dan. Sure he'll be surprised!
|
This Uniformed Little Boy It seems like only
yesterday, his eyes were lit with joy,
As we watched with admiration, this uniformed little
boy.
Campouts, picnics, Pinewood cars, the years slipped
quickly by,
The colors changed from blue to green, in the
twinkling of an eye.
Soon came ranks of Tenderfoot, Second, First and
Star,
Each leading toward that final quest, once visioned
from afar.
And then the rank of Life, and as life can often do,
The goal so close within his grasp, was dimming from
his view.
Yet from within he found the strength to reach that
final quest,
Remembering words from years gone by: I Will Do My
Best.
It seems like only yesterday, his eyes were lit
with joy,
As we watched with admiration, this uniformed little
boy.
Now with an eagle upon his chest, he soars, where
once he ran,
No longer that uniformed little boy; our Son…an
Eagle…a Man.
[Mike Wood]
|
Friday--July 24, 2009
Trail Day--125
Trail Mile--26.5/867/3400
Location--Buckeye Trail, Willis Run, Tappan Lake,
then on to Atwood Lake
Fort Steuben Scout Reservation is a special
place. Although it's been around for half a century,
the facility has been well kept and cared for,
thanks to a great extent to Fuzzy, Camp Ranger, the
kind fellow who welcomed us yesterday evening. Seems
he's also the resident caretaker, and a fine job
he's done keeping the camp going--for years
now. Thanks, Fuzzy, we had a memorable stay at Fort
Steuben Scout Reservation! And thank you, too,
Sheltowee, (Dan Rogers, dear friend and former
camp director at Fort Steuben).
Over to the cafeteria for coffee, then a final
farewell to Fuzzy this morning, and we're off to the
trail. Another great day for hiking. In Deersville
we take a break for breakfast. Then it's over to the
general store for some wonderful homemade ice
cream. A quick trip to the post office, then we do a
short side trip to the Buckeye Trail Association
"barn." The BTA owns a farm near the trail here by
Deersville, where they hold their annual
meetings. The barn has been modernized to
accommodate members during their annual event, and
the grounds by the barn comprise an acre or more of
manicured lawn, complete with picnic tables. Quite a
nice facility.
Back on the road now, I bypass the last short
sections of off-road. I've just suffered enough of
the constant struggling through section after
section of overgrown, unmaintained trail (You'd
think the BTA folks could take the least bit of time
during one of their meetings to clear out these
short sections of nearby trails, wouldn't you? Yes
mother, I know, I know, be quiet!).
Late afternoon we reach Atwood Lake, here to stop
for the day at the boat launch area.
|
"Oh, wouldn't the world seem dull and flat with
nothing whatever to grumble at?"
[W.S. Gilbert]
|
Saturday--July 25, 2009
Trail Day--126
Trail Mile--25.5/893/3426
Location--Somerdale, then on to near Malvern
The Atwood Lake boat launch area is a park-like
setting, though there is no park, just the launch
area and parking lot. Just before sunset last, we
got out our table and lounge chairs and prepared
supper right by the van--a fine spaghetti
dinner. Then we just sat and relaxed, enjoying the
view of the lake and the perfect evening. Other
folks had the same idea and they'd set up their
chairs in the parking lot just down from us.
By dark, we'd put everything away and are both in
the van for the night. At midnight, Gordon and I
were rousted from a sound asleep by loud banging on
the rear door. Blinding lights shone in both the
front and back windows. Two park rangers, all decked
out in their freshly pressed uniforms, complete with
badges and guns--and multi-celled flashlight clubs,
were our unwanted guests.
Although there are no signs forbidding overnight
parking, we were told to get out of the boat launch
area and move on. Half awake, half asleep, I got
behind the wheel and promptly put some distance
between us and the rangers' boat launch area. I
managed to find a nearby private campground, pulled
in--and we once more called it a day.
We're out very early this morning, a little after
six, and I'm back hiking the road again by
six-thirty, our earliest departure time yet.
Forecast is for a cold front, bringing rain, it
arrives at eight-thirty. So at SR-800, Gordon lifts
me from the road and we head for Mineral City for
breakfast. We're in, having our first cup of coffee
when the sky really opens. Did I mention before how
neat it is having support!
We've both got a maildrop in Minerva, a short
distance up the road.
By the time Gordon has me back hiking again, the
storm has passed and the sky is blue.
I've one more short section of certified trail to
hike before leaving the Buckeye Trail. It's the
towpath by the old Ohio-Erie Canal along the
Tuscarawas River, a heavily used three-mile segment.
Near the little village of Zoar, and after over 700
miles following the Buckeye, the NCT turns from it.
Also, here at Zoar, I finally quit hiking the wrong
direction. Amazing how this NCT has gone the wrong
direction for so long here in Ohio. Where I crossed
from Michigan into Ohio, from there to where the
trail enters Pennsylvania is around 250
miles. Before I finally leave Ohio I will have hiked
nearly 1,000 miles. Amazing!
I'm hiking northeast now (Yippee!), more roadwalking. By
late evening I'm nearing Malvern. Gordon has found a
place to park the van in Malvern, by the Dairy
Queen. That'll work!
|
"To know
what has to be done, then do it, comprises the
whole philosophy of practical life."
[Sir William Osier]
|
Sunday--July 26, 2009
Trail Day--127
Trail Mile--50.3/944/3477
Location--Malvern, then past Cold Run/Trinity
Church and on to Lisbon
Been getting out early the last number of days (pack
shouldered and hiking at six-thirty this morning)
and hitting the road hard. Accumulated (grudging
process) the extra miles to bump up another day. So,
the high mileage reflected in this day's stats.
The two days I've managed to get ahead, I'll burn
them shortly, at least as applies to this trek. I've
50 miles remaining to complete my hike o'er the
Potomac Heritage National Scenic Trail, the section
from Connellsville, Pennsylvania to Pittsburg. When
I reach I-79 in the next couple of days, just north
of Pittsburg, we'll break from this hike and drive
down to Connellsville and do those remaining Potomac
Heritage Trail miles. So, the two extra/accumulated
days will be zero days as far as this current hike
is concerned.
Gordon had sweet-talked Stephanie at Dairy Queen
last evening, and she said she'd let her boss know
we were parking for the night in their back lot. A
short trip downtown (Malvern), the local bar and
grill, burgers and fries, and the day was done.
Forecast is for more rain today, in waves like
yesterday, but doesn't appear, at least at six this
morning, that it'll happen.
Today's another roadwalk. Map shows the temporary
connector route zigging and zagging the backroads--all
over the place. Folks who lay out these routes, the
strategy, at least as their reasoning goes, they
think the lesser-used backroads are a safer place to
send the unwary hiker, but not so. The narrow, no
shoulder, blind curve roads really aren't the least
bit safe at all. Believe me, I know. Give me a busy
(wide, lined, with shoulders, good visibility) state
or federal highway any day, especially a four-lane
(I'll elaborate on this interesting subject--and
convince you--sometime). Today the highway is busy
US-30. We hammer it all day, clear to Lisbon.
Just before Lisbon there's a short uncertified
section of railtrail. You know, if you've read my
journal entries over the years, that I'm not keen on
railtrails. They're fine for biking, but they sure
leave a whole lot to be desired for the hiker and
backpacker. Anyway, it's a diversion to get up to
hike it, so, I stay US-30 on to Lisbon.
US-30 out of Lisbon, down a short ways, Gordon finds
a little no-frills mom-n-pop motel. Great hiker
trash rate. Here, we call it a day.
|
"Whether
one is twenty, forty, or sixty;
whether
one has succeeded, failed or just muddled along;
whether
yesterday was full of sun or storm,
or one of
those dull days with no weather at all,
life
begins each morning."
[Leigh Mitchell Hodges]
|
Monday--July 27, 2009
Trail Day--128
Trail Mile--23.2/967/3500
Location--Beaver Creek SP, then into Pennsylvania
near Darlington
A most welcome, most relaxing and restful stay last
in the little mom-n-pop motel in Lisbon.
Gordon has me back on trail (say road) and I'm out
to another perfect day.
My singular focus each and every day is to put at
least another 25 miles behind me, every day, seven
days a week--on this long, seemingly endless North
Country Trail. For this day, additionally, I've set
two other goals. The first: To hike at least some of
the last remaining off-road sections of the NCT in
Ohio. And the second: To get out of Ohio!
After nearly 1,000 miles, and a month and one-half
hiking in this state, my overall impression of the
NCT in Ohio is just plain ho-hum, in general, a big
yawn. The 700 miles along the Buckeye Trail, where
the NCT is superimposed upon it, and as a result,
associated with it, in my opinion, that relationship
is not favorable to the reputation of the NCT. The
condition of the Buckeye Trail is (and has been for
a very long time) in a downward spiral of neglect
and disrepair. It was a disappointment when I tried
hiking sections of it during my transcontinental
trek in 2002. And with the long relationship this
trek, it has been an even greater
disappointment. Friends who have hiked all or
sections of the Buckeye have been left with the same
impression. JoJo Smiley and Nomad '98
have hiked sections of it. During this trek the only
hikers I saw on the Buckeye were Laurel and
Hardy. They hiked the American Discovery
Trail in 2002 and 2003, which includes sections of
the Buckeye. So, like me, they've had two goes at
it. Talking with them the other day, they also
expressed disappointment in the trail. Laurel
told me the BTA wasn't going to like hearing what
she has to say about the Buckeye.
A bit more my impression of the NCT in Ohio. There
are a couple of crown jewels along the Buckeye, and
their identity belongs to Ohio and to the
Buckeye. First is Serpent Mound. Just a spectacular
site. The trail through there is marked and well
maintained. Then there's Ash Cave, Grandma Gatewood
Trail, and Old Man's Cave, that short section of
trail. And, should you take pleasure in exploring
covered bridges or hiking towpaths and railtrails,
they are abundant. And that's pretty much it for the
thousand miles of trail around Ohio.
Why a trail bearing the name "North Country" would
dip into southern Ohio, go nearly around the state,
I have not a clue. No one would consider any part of
Ohio North Country, not Dayton, or Cincinnati, or
the part of Appalachia in the Wayne. To take the
circuitous route around Ohio that it does, to wind
and to weave about for 1,000 miles, leaves the poor,
weary long-distance hiker constantly shaking his
head, wondering what in the world is going on. Might
I have my say sometime, before my dear friends, the
NCT folks, I would simply say--"Take the North
Country Trail off the Buckeye Trail as fast as you
can, and take it as far away from the Buckeye as you
can." Heeding mother's advice, I'll leave it at
that.
The short section of certified trail In Little
Beaver State Park is a pleasant hike. I have the
pleasure of meeting a couple of folks who work at
the park, Jeff and Bob. Thanks, fellows, for your
fine trail!
In the afternoon, I put Ohio behind me. Two
milestones today: I am through Ohio, and the
remaining miles to Crown Point, New York, are now
less than 1,000.
After reaching Darlington, we take off for
Connellsville, south of Pittsburgh. More about this
diversion tomorrow.
|
"I am sometimes disappointed, but I love my life
....
and I must believe that the disappointments
contribute something to what I love."
[Jan Denise]
|
Tuesday--July 28, 2009
Trail Day--129
Trail Mile-00.0
Location--Along the Great Allegheny Passage,
completing my hike o'er the Potomac Heritage
National Scenic Trail
After reaching Darlington last evening we headed
straight for Connellsville, to hike the remaining 58
miles of the Potomac Heritage National Scenic Trail
that I'd missed in 2002. I'd hiked all but those
last few miles during my transcontinental trek back
then.
We're in Connellsville before dark, at Wal-Mart,
where we "camp" for the night.
The trail from Connellsville to Pittsburgh follows a
railtrail called the Youghiogheny River Trail, along
The Great Allegheny Passage. After breakfast
downtown Connellsville, Gordon has me to the
trailhead, and I'm hiking a little after seven.
It's a pleasant morning. I can tell this is going to
be a very pleasant hike. The old grade follows the
river on a narrow shelf between the river and the
bluff. The tread is crushed limestone, much like the
Katy Trail, which follows along the Missouri River
back home. This setting by the river here reminds me
much of the Katy.
Gordon is able to intercept me every hour or two at
the trailheads along, so I'm carrying only the water
needed, and a snack or two, between stops.
Excitement for the day is seeing a very big black
bear. He ends up, literally, between a rock and a
hard place, as he must climb the bluff to get away
from me (and all the cyclists now watching him from
the trail). I get a couple good pictures.
It's a hammer it day as I get in 31 miles. That
leaves me with 27 for tomorrow.
I get the opportunity to meet and talk with a number
of folks today, Carl, Dan, Charlie, Devin, and Matt,
to name a few.
In Buena Vista, Charlie, one of the folks working
the trail, gives us permission to stay the night at
the trailhead. It's been a great day, back on the
Potomac Heritage National Scenic Trail.
|
"Our task must be to…embrace all living creatures
and the whole of nature and its beauty. "
[Albert Einstein]
|
Wednesday--July 29, 2009
Trail Day--130
Trail Mile--00.0
Location--Point Park, Pittsburgh
Gordon had stopped for a couple of subs yesterday
evening, so I didn't have to cook last night. There
was a pavilion complete with picnic tables at the
Buena Vista Trailhead where we parked, so we relaxed
and had our meal there.
We're no more than up than the rain begins. Poncho
on first thing.
Doing the long-mile day yesterday leaves me with a
27 today. In Versailles we stop at McDonald's for
breakfast, between the driving waves of rain.
The bike path into Pittsburgh, at least on the map,
appears a cruise, but I soon learn otherwise. First
trail up today is called the Steel Trail. It starts
out on a 12-foot wide, paved way, which soon turns
to gravel, which ends up taking me into a switching
yard. Before I know it, I'm hiking along the busy
main grade. I realize this after three locomotives
dragging a mile of railcars pass. I hike this main
line for nearly two miles before the highway comes
back over--and the trail begins again.
Through McKeesport, the trail passes through the old
(early to mid last century) industrial area, the
buildings all rusting away, windows broken or
boarded up, weeds and brush by all the old loading
docks--a depressing sight, especially on this dark,
rainy day.
North of McKeesport I cross the Monongahela River,
just downstream from where the Youghiogheny
enters. This is where the excitement (say confusion)
really begins. I'm following the developed bike path
again, which soon ends at the Sandcastle Amusement
Park parking lot. I check with a young chap manning
their entry gate. He tells me the trail goes through
the park. And appears it does, as I pick it up
again, between one of their swimming pools and the
river. But I soon reach the end, which is boarded
up. I climb over and proceed along, past their water
slide, and another swimming pool. I exit through
their north gate. From the parking lot there, the
situation becomes even more bizarre, as the road I'm
now following enters a huge salvage yard. I ask a
couple of truckers if they know where the bike path
might be located. No luck, I enter the salvage yard
office. The fellow behind the computer is apparently
used to being asked about the whereabouts of the
bike path. He pops an aerial up on his monitor and
shows me their salvage yard, and the (beginning of)
the bike path. I walk through the salvage yard,
around their security fence, and there it is--a
ten-foot-wide paved path, which was a continuation
of a narrow gravel path, again, along the live, main
railgrade!
Following this path, after climbing over a big
blowdown, is easier, until I get to the first
detour.
Somehow, late afternoon now, I finally reach Station
Square, and the bridge over to Point Park, where the
Monongahela and he Allegheny Rivers converge to form
the Ohio River.
Somehow, Gordon manages to find the place too. He
waits for me as I hike the last remaining steps
along the Potomac Heritage National Trail--to the
Point.
I'm the only person here. It's pouring down rain. No
fanfare, no celebrating--just the end of another
hike o'er another National Scenic Trail--the sixth.
In the rush hour traffic now, we head for Jack and
Diane's lovely bungalow. Diane, trail name,
Journey, thru-hiked the AT in 2002. She has
been following my progress this journey and has
invited us to their place for the night. We arrive
just at dusk. An amazing day; just an amazing
day. Thanks, Lord, for guiding us safely through
Pittsburgh!
|
"I'm not confused, I'm just well mixed."
[Robert Frost]
|
Thursday--July 30, 2009
Trail Day--131
Trail Mile--26.3/3540
Location--State Game Land 148, then on to
Breakneck Bridge
The Appalachian Trail "family" is a close-knit
bunch. Anyone who has hiked the AT is your friend,
and you theirs. I have hiked the AT. Journey
has hiked the AT. And so, we are friends. Journey
emailed me weeks ago, offering a place to stay,
food, clean clothes, whatever I needed when passing
her way. I wrote back right away. Sure glad I
did. Gordon and I had a most memorable stay at
Journey's. Thanks Jack and Diane!
Gordon has me back to Darlington in good order and
I'm out and on the road by eight.
This morning and for most of the afternoon I've a
roadwalk over to McConnells SP and around eight
miles of certified trail there.
I'm at the Hell's Hollow Trailhead a little before
five. The lightning, thunder, and accompanying rain
also reach Hell's Hollow a little before five. The
trail begins tame enough, but soon come the rocks
and roots, and a fair amount of climbing. This is
the sort of trail I really enjoy, the demand, the
challenge of it. Much like the AT, the trail
here. The rain comes off and on all evening, then
just before I reach Breakneck Bridge to call it a
day, the sky opens. I hike on, letting the rain soak
me good. I'm a wet puppy when I break out at
Breakneck Bridge.
We were going to camp in the park tonight, but the
rain has put a damper on that. We head, instead, for
the Pilot Truckstop by I-79, and McDonald's. The
tarmac at Pilot proves a better place to "camp" the
van this night.
|
"Rain showers my spirit and waters my soul."
[Emily Logan Decens]
|
Friday--July 31, 2009
Trail Day--132
Trail Mile--25.3/038/3565
Location--McConnells Mill SP, then on to Stone
House
The rain came and stayed, all night, steady but much
heavier at times. The Pilot Truckstop had a power
failure yesterday evening, which completely shut
them down. Activity all night as a result. Even the
power company had a truck at the site, right next
the van. Plenty of racket and confusion. I managed
to sleep through most of it.
The days are getting noticeably shorter now. It's
still dark when Gordon delivers me to the trail, as
yet another strong wave of rain drives through. I've
certified trail to hike today, past McConnells Mill
into and through Moraine SP. Lots of rocks and roots
along Slippery Rock Run, all of the rocks
slippery. Patty Jo, with the tourism staff in Butler
has scheduled four interviews today, two newspaper
and two radio, one of them to be half-hour live.
At the pavilion, McDaniels Visitor Center, Moraine
SP I pull up for the first of two interviews there,
one with Ed, reporter (photographer, Justin), Butler
Eagle, and the other, Mark, reporter, Ellwood City
Ledger and Beaver County Times. While at the Visitor
Center I meet Jeremy, Assistant Park Mgr., Moraine
SP.
The rain is still at it hard as Gordon heads us for
lunch with Patty Jo and Paula at the North Country
Brewing Co., Slippery Rock. Lunch is on Bob, owner
of the brewery--thanks Bob!
While at North Country, I do a half-hour live with
Dave, his show "It's Your Turn," WISR Radio,
Butler. It's three before I'm back on trail.
Get in the miles, but a long day.
|
"Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a
matter of choice;
It is not a thing to be waited for, it is a
thing to be achieved."
[William Jennings Bryan]
|
Saturday--August 1, 2009
Trail Day--133
Trail Mile--24.0/062/3589
Location--State Game Land 95, then on to Parker
Stone House is too fancy a place, the parking lot
(trailhead) paved and gated, so we headed back to
the more remote and less used Alpha Pass trailhead
near McConnells Mill, and settled in, then to
prepare supper and call it a day.
No rain last night, and clear skies this
morning. Looks to be the makings for a beautiful
hiking day. A very crisp, cool morning. I see smoke
coming from the chimneys of a number of homes. Hard
to believe that July has come and gone and that this
is the first of August already.
The hike for the next number of days will be connect
the dots, the blue dots signifying certified North
Country Trail. So, today is a roadwalk over to
Parker.
Along the way I take a few pictures of the distant
Allegheny Mountains. I'm in rolling farm land now,
and by one of the farms I chance to meet Richard and
Nicholas. Richard is the grandpa and Nicholas, his
grandson--sitting his lap, helping steer the big
tractor. I get the shot. You just gotta check this
one out--in my '09 picture album in a couple of
weeks. It's just precious.
Late afternoon and near Parker, I give John a
call. He's a member of the Butler Chapter, NCT. There
are a couple short sections of off-road close by
Butler, and John tells me they're in fine shape and
well marked, so I go in. A fun time. There are neat
bridges across both Dead Crow and Bear Creek. It's
worth the hike just to see the bridges, but I
enjoyed seeing the old oil wells, the miles of
piping, and what's left of the timbers from a very
high railroad trestle.
From Bear Creek it's a short hike down to the
Allegheny River, and Parker.
I take a room in the old hotel there. Gordon stays
in the van.
The article by Ed, Butler Eagle, from the interview
yesterday, is front page (above the fold), complete
with full color picture taken by Justin. Lots of
folks honking and waving today. One fellow in Parker
had me autograph his newspaper. Time for some bigger
shades again!
|
"Hope lies in dreams in one's
imagination and in the courage of
those who dare to make dreams into reality."
[Jonas Salk] |
Sunday--August 2, 2009
Trail Day--134
Trail Mile--26.2/088/3615
Location--Callenburg, then on to north of Clarion
The rain came in around five this morning. At
six-thirty it's raining hard as I hasten to get from
the old hotel to the van behind. The Parker House
here in Parker has been in business since the mid
1800s. My room was upstairs in the old section, my
stay here both restful and enjoyable. We had supper
in the old hotel restaurant last. I am clean and my
clothes are clean again. Gordon has me back across
the Allegheny River and on the highway once more a
little after seven.
I've a roadwalk again today, my destination,
hopefully, somewhere northeast of Clarion. The route
I have chosen is a much more direct route, primarily
following SR-68, a wide state highway with shoulders
and unlimited visibility. Being a shorter route, I
will gain another day soon, putting me a day up
again as to my itinerary. The recommended temporary
connector route wanders back and forth along narrow
backroads, with blind curves and top-outs, little or
no shoulders. One of those sections today would take
me seven miles around, where three miles straight
through would get me to the same point. What the
reasoning might be, to subject the hiker, in this
example, to nearly two more hours of risk, which
places him more in harms way in the process--what
the reasoning might be I do not know. At times like
today, the temporary connector route roams the
dangerous backroads to the point, at least in my
opinion, where it's totally nonsensical. Yes Mother,
I'll be quiet! So, today I will follow
Nimblewill's shorter and safer route.
In a while we stop for coffee in the little borough
of Callenburg, then it's on to the village of Sligo,
on SR-68, to the cafe there for breakfast.
The remainder of the day is pleasant, after having
my poncho on and off a half-dozen times. The day
remains cloudy and cool, a little drizzle at times,
but a great day to hike the road shoulders.
Evening finds us in a pull-off in State Game Land
283.
|
"Rain hangs about the place, like a friendly
ghost.
if it's not coming down in delicate droplets, then it's
in buckets;
and if neither, it tends to lurk suspiciously in the
atmosphere."
[Barbara Acton-Bond] |
Monday--August 3, 2009
Trail Day--135
Trail Mile--52.4/141/3668
Location--State Game Land 72, plus Allegheny NF,
Baker Trail, then on to Allegheny National Forest,
Muzette Road
Since returning from Pittsburgh, in those past five
days, and with most of those days being roadwalks
over shorter routes, I've managed to pick up another
day. After using the two days I'd been ahead to
finish the Potomac Heritage Trail hike into
Pittsburgh, I was even, as to itinerary days. Now
I'm one day ahead of schedule again. Pretty amazing,
actually, to be this far into the hike and to be
tracking my planned itinerary days this closely.
A chilly night, and this morning there's a cold,
dark fog. I'm out and hiking with my jacket on, hood
up. Today's hike will be mostly trail, in Cook
Forest State Park. The trail through the park is
called Baker Trail, and the NCT follows it the
entire way. The Baker is blazed yellow, so with the
NCT tracking along, the blazes are split, half blue,
half yellow. Trail in the park is heavily used, so
the tread is hardened in. And they keep it brushed
back and well marked. Cook Forest is a very pleasant
hike.
Out of the park and north of SR-66, trail
maintenance is sorely lacking. The four Bs are back:
briars, brambles, blow-downs and brush. And to add
to the difficulty, with all the recent rain, the
trail is submerged in many places.
Today I see rhododendron for the first time this
hike, also mountain laurel, which is in
bloom. Again, so much a reminder of the southern
Appalachians. Lots of pull-off, what with all the
oil wells. Gordon has no problem finding us a fine
spot for the night, grassy, level, and all!
|
"Flowers
may beckon towards us, but they speak toward
heaven and God."
[Henry Ward Beecher]
|
Tuesday--August 4, 2009
Trail Day--136
Trail Mile--25.6/167/3694
Location--Allegheny NF, Queen Creek Campsite,
then on to Minister Road
A very cool night, just perfect for sleeping. As if
special conditions were needed to sleep after
a(nother) 25-mile day.
Yesterday afternoon I crossed the southern boundary
of the Allegheny National Forest. At the time, I had
great expectations of finding brushed back and well
marked trail in the forest. Sections of trail
earlier in the day, all but the last just south of
the forest, had been well marked and maintained. But
once in the forest, and to my dismay, was I faced
yet again with the all too familiar four
B's--briars, brambles, blowdowns, and brush.
From the south forest boundary to the New York line
is 100 miles by trail-in the Allegheny NF. So, today
I'm again faced with more of the same poorly
maintained trail. The going is slow, and I must
take care not to get tripped up in the blowdowns and
brush. It's a long 25.
Today is fungi day, many, many varieties of
mushrooms and other assorted fungi, all colors and
sizes. Rocks and roots (hidden by the overgrown
trail) are aplenty. Concentrating every single step
proves an exercise in patience.
No problem camping in the forest, and Gordon has the
van situated at a pull-off right next the
trail. Less than 70 miles now to the New York
line--oh yes!
|
"Adopt the
pace of nature: her secret is patience."
[Ralph Waldo
Emerson]
|
Wednesday--August 5, 2009
Trail Day--137
Trail Mile--23.0/190/3717
Location-- Allegheny NF, Tionesta Creek Campsite,
then on to US-6 near Ludlow
Another very cool night, unusual for August. Got
some wet wood burning (mostly smoking) and we
enjoyed a campfire last evening.
Rain came again during the night, but it's moved on
this morning. I'm hiking at dawn, the earliest start
yet.
More difficult tread again today, many blowdowns,
and tall grass and brush concealing the rocks and
roots under foot. I get tangled up in the brush and
take two hard falls--no injuries. Thank you, Lord.
Saw a red fox yesterday, and another one today. Lots
more fungi to photograph, some very pretty ones.
Plenty of blazes along, easy enough to follow at
times, but not so easy at other times. I get lost
twice and rely on my GPS to direct me. Plenty of
mud, too, what with all the recent rain. My feet
have been soaked all day. What a way to break in my
fourth pair of New Balance shoes!
We finish the day at the corner restaurant, SR-321,
in Blissville. Then it's up to the Longhouse
Trailhead for the night.
|
"If all
our misfortunes were laid in one common heap,
whence everyone must take an equal portion,
most
people would be content to take their own and
depart."
[Socrates]
|
Thursday--August 6, 2009
Trail Day 138
Trail Mile--24.6/215/3742
Location--Allegheny NF, Hemlock Run, then on to
Allegheny Reservoir
A very cool night, crept down in my sleeping bag--in
the back of the van. We camped last at the Longhouse
Trailhead just north of Blissville where there's a
cafe at the corner by Bliss Hill Road. So we're
right in there for breakfast, biscuits and
gravy--and a pot of coffee. My tank's topped off for
the rest of this day.
Jacket on, zipper zipped, hood up, hands in my
pockets to get going this morning. Gordon says it's
cold because we're so far north!
As I near the Allegheny Reservoir I find the trail
has gotten much more use, and there's actually been
some maintenance--a few blowdowns cleared. A little
sun today, not enough to really get things
cooking. By two enough local clutter accumulates to
drag a couple of showers through. I dig my poncho
out, but get by without it.
I find the reservoir area to be a beautiful spot. I
should get some fine pictures tomorrow, my final day
in Pennsylvania.
|
"To do the
useful thing, to say the courageous thing, to
contemplate the beautiful thing:
that is
enough for one man's life."
[T. S. Eliot]
|
Friday--August 7, 2009
Trail Day--139
Trail Mile--23.9/239/3766
Location--Pennsylvania/New York State Line, then
on the Finger Lakes Trail (FLT) to
Allegheny SP,
ASP-1, France Brook
Finished the day earlier than usual yesterday, so we
decided to head in to Bradford and find a room, get
cleaned up, and do some laundry--plus make a run to
Wal-Mart for a few things, like a New York DeLorme.
The old motel where we stayed is filled with
laborers, and they're all out and gone by the time
we're up. Gordon finally gets me back on the trail
at seven-thirty, in the rain.
I've 11.4 miles of trail remaining in Pennsylvania,
along the shore of the Allegheny Reservoir. The rain
this morning sure isn't helping the trail
conditions, of mud, more mud, and slick rocks. I'm
not on the trail five minutes before I'm totally
soaked. And it's another cold morning, hands cold,
nose running.
Quarter after one I reach the New York State
line. Six states down now, just one more to go. I'm
actually starting to look toward the end of this
trek. Six states ago it seemed so distant, but now I
can actually visualize finishing this very long
journey.
The first 400 miles of the 600+ miles of the NCT in
New York run with the Finger Lakes Trail (FLT). At
the line I'm in the Allegany State Forest, and
immediately on the FLT. The FLT is marked with white
blazes, like the Appalachian Trail, and seeing the
first white blaze, I'm reminded of the AT.
The FLT gets a fair amount of traffic, so the tread
is pretty much hardened in, which makes for easier
going. And this trail has received some
maintenance--the blowdowns, for the most part, have
been cleared.
The FLT has its own set of maps, different than the
NCT maps for other states. A break-in period will be
needed to become comfortable with them, but I can
tell already that I'm going to like them.
Also to remind me of the Appalachian Trail are the
Adirondack Shelters. I pass two today.
The Allegany Mountains are not high, but after the
climbing about I've already done today I can tell my
hike through them will be rough.
Less than a mile from the end of my hike this
evening I meet the first backpackers on the FLT, a
group of young ladies led by Chris from
Michigan. Along are Mandi, Kailey, Amanda, Amy, and
Barb.
I'm in, wet and tired, yet very pleased with this
day.
|
''Look at a day when you are
supremely satisfied at the end.
It's not a day when you lounge
around doing nothing;
it's when you've had everything to
do, and you've done it.''
[Margaret Thatcher]
|
Saturday--August 8, 2009
Trail Day--140
Trail Mile--18.9/019/3785
Location--FLT, Allegany SP, Beck Hollow Shelter,
then on to Rock City SF, Little Rock City Picnic
Area
Gordon had checked with the ranger at Quaker Run
Park Office about parking overnight at trailheads on
state land, and was told we'd be okay. That's great
news as it will certainly eliminate our worrying
about where to camp each night.
Ah, and last night we parked at the ASP-1 trailhead
by France Brook.
The hours on trail through the FLT will make for
long days, what with the degree of
difficulty--frequent ascents/descents in excess of
400 feet, each with an ample mixture of rocks and
roots thrown in. Don't misunderstand; I like this
sort of tread, trails that go straight up and
straight down. Problem is, doing twenty-fives
through this kind of terrain makes for tough, slow
going.
And so, today I'm pack up and climbing by
six-thirty. Once under I-86 and across the Allegheny
River (for the last time), I'm faced with a 500 foot
climb up from Sunfish Run. The bail-off to Sawmill
Run brings me to an interesting place, the back yard
of a fellow's home, there to cross his private
footbridge. Here I meet Tom, a great friend to the
FLTC. He welcomes me and we enjoy an enthusiastic
exchange. Of all the folks who've crossed his
footbridge, the old Nomad is the first NCT
thru-hiker Tom's met.
From Sawmill Run I've another 500+ pull into the
Bucktooth SF. Lots and lots of climbing, as
expected. And there's another 500-footer at day's
end to get to the trailhead at Little Rock City
Picnic Area, the last two miles in the rain.
|
"I listened, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more."
[William Wordsworth]
|
Sunday--August 9, 2009
Trail Day--141
Trail Mile--25.5/045/3810
Location--FLT, McCarty Hill SF Bivouac Area, then
on to Boyce Hill SF
Rained off and on all night, very hard at
times. Still coming down this morning, which makes
for a dreary, foggy dawn. Getting up and going in
this gloom takes a good bit of talking to myself, in
an effort to convince myself that this is going to
be a great hiking day--that all I gotta do is lift
my pack and hit the trail. Good old Gordon, he's
always positive and upbeat. "Chance of rain is only
50%," says he, big grin, as the rain continues. And
so, I lift my pack, and go.
And I am happy. Happy with my progress, happy with
this trail, the Finger Lakes Trail. New York, the
Allegany Mountains, not terribly rugged country, but
enough contour variation to make it challenging. Up
500, down 300, up 450, the climbing keeps it
interesting and makes for good trail. It's such a
blessing--that I have the strength and stamina, and
the fire-in-my-gut to go.
And there certainly are enough ups and downs
today. The bail-off down to Elk Creek, followed by
the climb up to the meadow on Poverty Hill is a
workout. Ah, and well worth it, for the grand view
back to Holimont and Great Valley.
The rain relents for awhile, then the clouds totally
dark the sky, and the thunder rolls. Not such a good
place to be in the ensuing storm--the meadow above
Irish Hill and Brennan Road. The driving rain comes
so quickly I have not the least time to retrieve my
poncho. There's a hunter's stand, a free-standing
tower right on the crown and I make a mad dash for
it. In the minute it takes to get there I'm totally
soaked. There's little cover under the stand, as the
wind is driving the rain straight through. manage
to lay some scrap pieces of plywood across the lower
tower braces and climb under. Lightning is striking
all around now, the thunder cracking, much as the
piercing sound of cannon fire. I manage to finally
get my poncho over me and my pack, as I cower, hands
over my head.
The storm is intense, lasting for the better part of
half an hour. There's two inches of standing water
everywhere--and when I'm finally able to get out
from under my makeshift shelter and get moving down
the mountain, I'm helped along by one gully-washer
after another.
There's been a recent trail relocation above SR-240,
and I have one heck of a time following the maze of
double blazes--no cut tread. By the time I reach the
highway where Gordon is waiting, the sun is out, and
you'd never know a raging storm had just passed. In
the van, Gordon has the heater running, and I'm able
to warm up and dry out a little.
The hike on over to Boyce Hill SF is uneventful. By
a pull-off there, and in the warmth of the evening
sun, we call it a day.
|
"But what is
happiness except the simple harmony between a man
and the life he leads?"
[Albert Camus]
|
Monday--August 10, 2009
Trail Day--142
Trail Mile--26.5/072/3837
Location--FLT, Bear Creek SF (NOT), then on to
near Swift Hill SF
Another intense storm came in last night. It rained
so hard that a fine mist blew in around the back
doors of the van. It was an amazing storm lasting
almost two hours, dropping buckets of rain.
Not a clear dawn, but not the dark gloom of
yesterday morning. I'm reluctant to try hiking trail
today, but at Boyce Hill SF I jump the
ditch-turned-stream and head on in. Not a good
idea. The trail is flooded, two to ten inches of
water everywhere. I stomp right in first thing,
denying the trail the pleasure of getting me
soaked. And soaked I quickly become, from top to
bottom, as I struggle along.
On the roadwalk to Bear Creek, Gordon is unable to
get through, as a culvert pipe has been completely
blown out by the torrent of last night. I'm able to
run and jump the 4x4 ditch where the pipe used to
be. Another mile along and my progress is also
halted, as Bear Creek Road is closed. Assuming the
problem is at Bear Creek Bridge, and should it be
washed out, which is likely the problem, I turn
south on Rogers Road and head for Franklinville,
from there, hopefully, to return to the
trail. That's when I'm told by a fellow who lives on
Rogers that the main road to Franklinville,
Bakerstand Road, is closed due to a washout.
By this time, Gordon has gotten turned around and
has backtracked to Bakerstand, and he's gone down to
see if I'll be able to hike through. Good news for
me, bad news for Gordon. I can walk across the
narrow remainder of road, but Gordon will Have to
detour 15 miles around. We'll meet in downtown
Franklinville.
All this road destruction seen this morning is due
to the torrents of rain from the storm last
night. All the tributaries to Ischua Creek,
including Bear Creek, have flooded their banks,
causing much damage along, especially to culverts
and bridges. At the main creek crossing just outside
downtown Franklinville, the creek is close to going
over the bridge. Homes along the creek are flooded,
driveways washed out. So much for hiking the trail
through Bear Creek SF.
North and east of Franklinville I head back in on
private land, the trail here leading to Bush Hill
SF. This section of trail has seen little use and
less maintenance. In addition to the flooded trail,
now there's more four Bs--those culprits, briars,
brambles, blowdowns, and brush. It's slow going,
what with the flooding thrown in. Just before
entering Bush Hill SF, my progress is halted again,
as I enter an area of unbelievable destruction, a
100-yard-wide path where every tree is down. A
tornado swept through here very recently, probably
last night, pushing over everything in its path. "Windthrow"
is what the Forest Service calls such an event.
It takes me well over an hour to scramble over,
under, around, and through the maze. Rootwads loom
as high as ten feet, the huge tree trunks lined in
piles. This section of trail will simply have to be
closed until this chaotic jumble can be
cleared. Indeed, all the trail in Cattaraugus County
will need to be brushed out, as the tops of many
trees have been damaged, their limbs now blocking
the trail.
Gordon is waiting patiently on the east end of Bush
Hill, and as I start north toward Bush Hill Road
another wave of rain comes driving through.
I sit this one out in the van. Then as the rain
lessens, I don my poncho and hoof it on up the
roadwalk toward Swift Hill SF. At six, I call it a
day. Gordon loads me and we head for the convenience
store in Centerville for burgers and fries.
Back to the trailhead at Swift Hill, we get the van
situated and call it a day.
|
We saw the strong trees struggle and their plumes do
down,
The poplar bend and whip back till it split to fall,
The elm tear up at the root and topple like a crown,
The pine crack at the base - we had to watch them
all.
The ash, the lovely cedar. We had to watch them
fall.
They went so softly under the loud flails of air,
Before that fury they went down like feathers,
With all the hundred springs that flowered in their
hair,
and all the years, endured in all the weathers
To fall as if they were nothing, as if they were
feathers.
[May Sarton - 1938]
|
Tuesday--August 11, 2009
Trail Day--143
Trail Mile--24.7/097/3862
Location--FLT, past nearby Marge Hinz Campsite at
Sixtown Creek, then on to the Genesee River near
Fillmore
The forecast is for this weather pattern to continue
for the next number of days, meaning more and more
rain, with some storms intense. A cold front off
Lake Huron, bringing severe storm conditions with
it, is to pass west of us, through Allegany
SF. We'll likely get some of the effect.
Hiking through brush and blowdowns on flooded trail
is not impossible, but it's sure no fun--and it's
downright dangerous. Folks who enjoy going to the
woods for a weekend to hike the trails there, they
can choose the conditions. If it's nasty or if the
forecast isn't good, they can just wait for another
time. But the thru-hiker doesn't have that
luxury. We've gotta go with what we're dealt, good
or bad. Sure, we can take a day or two off here and
there, and hope for the best, but even that luxury
is not an option for me. 4,400 miles can't be hiked
out in one season by picking and choosing what days
to hike, certainly not by taking days off. So, I've
a bad deal, foul weather, days of it, plus
deteriorating trail, at times and in places, to the
point of being virtually unhikable.
Well, okay old man, now what? Actually, the
decision's a no-brainer. Not a pleasant choice to
make, not one that will please the FLT folks who've
worked so hard to build and maintain this trail. But
the decision must be to roadwalk it out of here, to
get east and north, past this storm damage--the
flooding, the mud, the brush and blowdowns.
And so, this morning I head out on the road to
Higgins, then to Hume on the high water bypass
trail, then on to Fillmore, where I'll cross the
Genesee River.
The sky keeps churning, for awhile, dark, rain
filled clouds, then for awhile, some sun. The waves
of rain continue passing the entire day. My poncho's
on and off, and when Gordon's nearby, I'm in and out
of the van.
On the east side of the Genesee River I hike north
toward South River Road, which should lead to trail
at the Hesse Lean-To. I'll plan to try the trail
again there tomorrow. But there's no longer a South
River Road by the Livingston/Allegany County line. I
try bushwhacking through with no luck, then finally
give up and turn around--and call it a day.
|
"The roads we take are more
important than the goals we announce.
Decisions determine destiny."
[Frederick Speakman]
|
Wednesday--August 12, 2009
Trail Day--144
Trail Mile--24.0/121/3886
Location--Dalton, then on to Klipnocky SF
Clean body, clean clothes, what an improvement! Our
stay at the little mom-n-pop motel in Fillmore was
great. Same folks ran the cafe. Had supper there
last, and we beat it right back over there for
breakfast this morning. They open at
six-thirty. We're there. The klatch starts showing
up around quarter to seven. By seven they've filled
the main round table, and by quarter after they've
discussed and have solved most of the world
problems. They're all farmers, so they watch the
weather very closely. We're told these torrential
storms are not uncommon this time of year, and that
when we're well the other side of Dalton that the
pattern will change much for the better. Sure hope
so. This recent batch of storms killed two people in
Cattaragus County, where we were when the worst of
it hit. The county has been declared a disaster
area.
Appears there'll be little change in the weather
pattern here today. More sky churning--a dark patch
swirls in bringing rain, then a clear patch and sun,
over and over. My poncho's on and off. I'm in and
out of the van.
I've a maildrop in Dalton and we're in there before
noon. Goodies and cards from home. Camera memory
cards back from my webmaster.
Late afternoon I hike a most remarkable section of
trail near Garwoods. Trail description: "...white
blazes to right take you 0.4 mile steeply up a rocky
stream gully IN the stream bed..." Never hiked
tread like this before, just remarkable. It's a
stream bed alright, six to 12 feet wide, set in
steps, with 2-4 inches of water cascading the steps
full width. The steps are near perfectly flat, some
a foot or two wide, one to two feet deep, others,
six to 12 feet wide, ten to 12 feet deep. The height
of the steps vary from a few inches to over two
feet. And up through this the trail goes, for better
part of a quarter-mile. Lots of video, lots of
snaps. Just a remarkable piece of trail.
This little creek is on private property as is the
next short section, which climbs to an upper
pasture, a peaceful, quiet setting, splendid views.
Evening finds us in a little patch of state land
called Klipnocky SF. The rain has finally given it
up for the day. We set camp, fix dinner, and that's
it for another great one along the NCT!
|
"And this, our life,
exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees,
books in the running
brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything."
[William Shakespeare]
|
Thursday--August 13, 2009
Trail Day--145
Trail Mile--25.5/147/3912
Location--FLT, Bully Hill SF, then on to
Cunningham Creek, east of Hornell
We camped last at the corner of Bill Morris Road and
Roots Road in Klipnocky SF. The final wave of rain
for the day had already passed by the time we
arrived to set the kitchen for supper--table,
Coleman, five-gal-water, the bins with food stores,
plates, pots, and pans. I'm getting good at
preparing pasta dishes, and Gordon always has a few
assorted #2 cans of veggies, bread, and cottage
cheese (large curd, of course). Dessert is usually
fruit cups. We're actually doing quite well
nutrition-wise.
Way back in the woods we were, way back, yet stopped
by Dan and Pam, who were out geocaching. We chat for
a few minutes. Make sure and go to my guestbook and
read their comments, neat stuff (hint--Nomad's
gettin' a very big head, needin' some Hank Jr.-size
shades).
I'm moving on down the trail a little after
six-thirty this morning, on well-manicured (brushed
back) trail through Klipnocky. Some short sections
are sporting lots of rock. How about "klips that are
nocky" to describe Klipnocky!
The sun is actually shining at sunrise; what a
change, what a great way to begin the day for a
change.
We're close to houses and farms all day. Much good
land here, lots of folks living the good life off
the land, small farms, lush fields of grain,
hay--for the Guernsey and Jersey milkers--and folks
fine draft horses.
Late afternoon, more great trail, all brushed back
and mowed. Save for the mud and the flood (neither
of which are the trail builder's fault), the groomed
tread is another welcome change. The four B's have
really wore me down.
We end the day short of Burt Hill SF and head back
to Hornell, to a little mom-n-pop motel there for
the night. My Pocketmail's been burping quite a bit
lately and I'm concerned whether it's
working/sending as it should. There's a phone in our
room and I figure the problem--all's well with my
PocketMail--thank you, Lord!
We lavish ourselves on the great fare at Country
Kitchen right next for supper. Life is good!
|
"Success is not a place at which one arrives
but rather the spirit with which one
undertakes and continues the journey."
[Alex Noble]
|
Friday--August 14, 2009
Trail Day--146
Trail Mile--21.7/169/3934
Location--FLT, Burt Hill SF, then on to just
north of Bath
A most relaxing stay in Hornell last. Of course
we're right back over to Country Kitchen for
breakfast this morning. Over-indulgence (to the
point of decadence), oh yes! Hey, why not, after 145
days, 3,900 miles of staying this trail!
Another foggy morning, but the forecast is for hot
and humid. There was only one poor excuse for-a-wave
of rain that passed through yesterday. Conditions
seem to be improving, slowly-but-surely. Gordon has
started kidding about how, when I apply my sunblock,
how it immediately blocks the sun! Actually got some
benefit from it yesterday. Hopefully, I'll need it
again today. Now, if the trail can just dry out the
least bit, that'd sure help. Don't know though, may
be in for more tough hiking--a bunch more brush
along to deal with. Dear friend and super longtime
FLT advocate/volunteer, Ed, in a recent email,
stated: "Sorry the weather has been so bad. Cortland
County got hit with 60 M.P.H. winds so you may run
into a lot of blowdown there. Hope not." So, we'll
see.
Trail this morning is mud and flood, plenty of
both. It's going to be a heck of a long time before
these hills dry out, way after I've passed.
Glorious sky today, no churning, just tufted banks
of beautiful white cirrus clouds, the kind of sky
that makes any subject look great. And I get plenty
of shots from the ridges along, hay fields, meadows
of brilliant yellow and white flowers.
We're entering the heart of the Finger Lakes region
now, much more rugged terrain for sure, lots of
climbing.
Didn't hike near as much trail as I'd have liked
today. The lingering mud and flood, the general
conditions throughout these hill sections, make
hiking here a treacherous ordeal. I'm nearing 4,000
miles this journey. Of course there's never a good
time to "bust it." For sure, after what I've endured
this trek, this is definitely not a good time. I'll
try the trail again tomorrow in Birdseye Hollow
SF. Hopefully, this day of sun will have improved
conditions some. Aw, quit whining old man, and just
move on!
Gordon has a map with all the truckstops across our
interstate system; there's one nearby on I-86,
another Pilot. Ah yes, their parking lot's where
we're headed for tonight--and the Subway right by!
|
"We can't whine and complain about where we're at.
We've got to go forward."
[Joe Randa]
|
Saturday--August 15, 2009
Trail Day--147
Trail Mile--27.6/197/3962
Location--Hammondsport, then on to the hamlet of
South Bradford
Pilot truckstop is a 24/7 operation, so the trucks
kept rolling in and out all night. Though asleep, I
could hear them, but I did sleep well. Having fresh,
hot coffee first thing this morning gets the day
headed in the right direction--and a bearpaw to boot
doesn't hurt.
Heavy fog to start, but the sun soon burns it
off. Another glorious day in the Finger Lakes--along
the Finger Lakes Trail.
I've twelve in before noon, so we take a break for
lunch. Ham and cheese sandwiches made by yours
truly, plus chips, hard boiled eggs, and cottage
cheese. Plenty of energy for an afternoon of
climbing out of Birdseye Hollow, over 400 feet up to
South Bradford.
At Aullis Road, Gordon was surprised to see another
hiker come out ahead of me. It was Doug, trailname,
Rampli. He's out for a couple of days on
the Finger Lakes Trail. We enjoy each others
company, hiking together, to near South Bradford.
It has turned hot and humid for sure, but no
complaints, as there have been just enough afternoon
clouds to keep the day from really cooking. I said
that I would never complain of the heat--clouds this
afternoon were a blessing.
|
"Ah, summer - what power you have to make us suffer
and like it."
[Russell Baker]
|
Sunday--August
16, 2009
Trail Day--148
Trail Mile--24.9/222/3987
Location--FLT, South Bradford SF, then on to Glen
Creek, west end Watkins Glen SP
We camped up a rutty, little-used two-track in
Goundry Hill SF last night, even had a (poor excuse
for a) campfire, more smoke than fire. The trail is
trying to dry out, but everything in the woods is
still wet. Wet wood just doesn't burn all that
great--but we tried.
The sun is out at sunrise again this morning. Glory
be, going to be another wonderful day for hiking the
Finger Lakes Trail!
The trail today leads through a number of small
state forest parcels, plus a goodly amount of
private land. And there's plenty more climbing along
brushed-back and well-marked trail. The second climb
today is a hard pull of 640 feet up and over Goundry
Hill, one of the longest ascents so far here in the
Finger Lakes region. Glad to get that one behind me.
There hasn't been near as much rain here compared to
farther west and we've had a few days for things to
dry out a bit. I finished the day yesterday with dry
feet, and unless there's a major change in trail
conditions, I'll also finish with dry feet today.
Toward the end of the day I enter the upper gorge at
Watkins Glen. Comes an interesting creek crossing
and some preliminary views down into the
glen. Tomorrow should offer a number of photo
opportunities as I head for Seneca Lake.
Can't believe we can afford one of the old rustic
cabins at Seneca Lodge, right next Watkins Glen
SP--our lucky day!
|
"It is right precious to behold
The first long surf of climbing light
Flood all the thirsty east with gold."
[James Russell Lowell]
|
Monday--August 17, 2009
Trail Day--149
Trail Mile--21.6/244/4009
Location--FLT, Watkins Glen SP, then on to Texas
Hollow SF
Our "camp" last night was a delightful old two-room
cabin at Seneca Lodge. How we got it, and what we
got it for is a mystery. That we got it at all is
another mystery. Watkins Glen is THE race
town. "There's always one race or another." was the
reply from the lady at the lodge desk when I asked
what was going on. Supper was in the rustic lodge
dining room. The place was packed with drivers and
fans from whatever race was going on. We had a great
stay.
Down the hill for coffee. Then back up the hill to
the west end of the gorge at Watkins Glen, and I'm
on trail by 7:30.
Being early morning and being Monday, I have the
gorge to myself. It is a spectacular place. If
you're familiar with the old CCC stone work, then
you can appreciate it when I tell you the rock steps
and walls built within the gorge is pure
artwork. And the gorge itself, the sheer walls,
overhangs, falls, circular pools, tunnels, just
heart-stopping spectacular. Even with the Adirondack
High Peaks yet to come, I'm willing to wager that
Watkins Glen will be my favorite place in all of New
York State.
Like so many other places the trail passes, it
doesn't take the hiker along the most spectacular of
paths, the Gorge Trail and the Indian Trail. The
FLT/NCT stays on the Rim Trail, well away from the
awe-inspiring wonders of the place. I had to go
off-trail to see the sights I've described to
you. Seems at times, and as if, the long-distance
backpacker just isn't deserving--make him hike over
there.
By late morning I'm in downtown Watkins Glen, again
off-trail, as the designated route follows side
streets. The Glen has a lovely business district,
complete with it's own walk of fame, granite
sidewalk placements sporting the names and dates of
race winners--for near the last century. Interesting
and fun "hike," but not on the designated route.
At Jolly Road and SR-79 I get a spectacular view
across Seneca Lake, one of the finger lakes, and
back down to Watkins Glen on the south shore. The
remainder of the day is consumed hiking a sweeping
horseshoe loop up and around and down to Texas
Hollow SF, where we call it a day, a
hot-but-memorable hiking day.
|
"Everybody
needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and
pray in,
where
nature may heal and give strength to body and soul."
[John Muir]
|
Tuesday--August 18, 2009
Trail Day--150
Trail Mile--22.1/266/4031
Location--FLT, Connecticut Hill WMA, Cayuta Gulf,
then on to Upper Park Road, west end, Robert H.
Treman SP
We had a very enjoyable stay last at a private
campground on Cayuta Lake. Second day in a row for a
hot shower! Supper was reliable old Dinty, prepared
on our trusty Coleman. Gordon can't remember (best
he can remember) ever getting up from a table and
leaving anything other than an empty plate. But at
Seneca Lodge, he had to ask for a container to carry
out the better half of the London broil he'd done
his best to put away. So, for a great side, we also
had his left-over London broil. We're eatin' good,
oh yes, two well-nourished good old boys, for sure!
My hike today takes me through the Cayuta Gulf, a
ho-hum canyon compared to Watkins Glen. Connecticut
Hill is in the north corner of the WMA. I had hoped
for great views from the hill, which stands at 2099
feet, but the crown has long since been topped with
a myriad of summit ornaments: Radio and microwave
towers, other assorted antennas. The trail avoids
the hilltop to sideslab almost 360 around--and
through the trees.
On the walk along Griffin Road, down from
Connecticut Hill, I catch up with a group of
students and their instructors. They're from Cornell
University in Ithaca, out for a four-day hike. We
exchange great energy--happy, shiny-faced bunch of
young adults they are.
Afternoon thunderstorms are forecast for our area,
and at a little before five they
arrive. Anticipating the rain, we had hastened to
complete the day's hike early, and we're already set
up in the tent area, Robert H. Treman SP when the
storms come.
Not the most memorable day, but one less day in what
first appeared an endless line of days. Day by day,
another day is added, ever heaped upon the heap of
days, which, collectively, are turning this to a
most memorable journey.
The Finger Lakes Trail is all but behind me now. In
less than a week I'll be walking along the towpath
beside the old Erie Canal, just south of the
Adirondacks. Thank you, Lord, for keeping me by your
side.
|
"Everywhere is within walking distance if
you have the time."
[Stephen Wright]
|
Wednesday--August 19, 2009
Trail Day--151
Trail Mile--19.5/286/4051
Location--FLT, Robert H. Treman SP, then on to
White Church Road, west of Shindagin Hollow SF
The rain came in two separate waves last evening
forcing us into the van just as I was getting set to
prepare supper. By the time the storm moved through
we needed the lantern to finish.
The morning dawns clear and muggy. The rain was
supposed to cool things off a bit but that hasn't
happened. No complaints; my fingers work fine in the
heat. I work fine in the heat. Sure better than the
bitter cold and sticks-for-fingers suffered early
on.
Right next the place we did laundry yesterday
there's a convenience store. They're open early and
we're right back there for our morning coffee fix.
Just ahead of me today is another gorge, the one
carved out by Enfield Creek. Getting an early start
once again, I'm the only one around. Another
spectacular work of Nature, enhanced by the CCC--remarkable
rockwork, steps, walls, walkways. Many more videos
and pictures. I linger the longest time enjoying the
early rays of the sun as they filter down and into
the gulf, lighting the spray from the many
falls. Not a good thing though, lingering so long,
as I've many miles to cover today, lots more
climbing ahead. A bit more mud to deal with too, due
to the rain, but I'm so used to it by now that it's
no longer a problem.
What is a problem is the fact that most of the day
is spent hiking south. I need to be going north and
east. Not a good attitude builder or a morale
booster. Seems as if, at times, that the folks out
painting blazes on the trees simply get
lost. Looking at the FLT maps (pick any one of them)
the trail simply wanders all over the place, in
every direction.
But I'm getting there, somehow, I'm getting
there. Crown Point, ever the closer--no matter the
direction (usually wrong) that I'm headed.
Aw, forgive me folks, this is just such a very long
hike--I'd just like to be going the right way.
|
"I seldom end up where I wanted to go, but almost
always end up where I need to be."
[Douglas Adams]
|
Thursday--August 20, 2009
Trail Day--152
Trail Mile--28.3/314/4079
Location--FLT, Shindagin Hollow SF, then on to
Owego Hill Road, Kennedy SF
Some kind soul, bless his/her heart, one of the many
trail volunteers, keeps the trailhead area by
Ridgeway Road looking like your front lawn. There's
even a picnic table. Oh yes, we moved right in
yesterday evening. A few skeeters, but otherwise a
most enjoyable night.
We're up and I'm out and hiking at sunrise. Easier
to do these days as sunrise comes later and later
each morning.
To get from one small speck of state forest to
another, the trail must work its way along roads and
across private land. On the way to Shindagin Hollow
SF it's mostly private land, with a bit of old
abandoned railgrade thrown in. Lots more climbing
again today, but by now my legs and back are quite
used to the task and I can make good time, move
right along. Shindagin Hollow SF is a delightful
place, the trail brushed-back, well-marked, a very
pleasant time. Also, along today, and for the past
number of days, builders of the trail have taken me
past old stone foundations and fences, the remains
of homesteads, each with a story to be told of the
hardship and toil all pioneer families endured.
Forecast is for thunderstorms this
afternoon. Ominous clouds come in and it turns the
least blustery, but the rain doesn't happen. The
trail is trying its best to dry out again. Perhaps,
just perhaps!
|
"The past is
a ghost, the future a dream, and all we ever have is
now."
[Bill Cosby]
|
Friday--August 21, 2009
Trail Day--153
Trail Mile--26.3/340/4105
Location--FLT, Kennedy SF, then on to Underwood
Hill Road, just west of Baker Schoolhouse SF
To camp last we were able to find a flat spot at a
pull-off in Kennedy SF. Supper was good old Dinty.
The rain forecast for yesterday afternoon finally
arrived around two in the morning. Not a
thunderbuster, nor in waves like we've had, just
come-and-go rain.
The hike today takes me through the eastern segment
of Kennedy SF, past Foxfire Lean-To, a fine shelter,
complete with table and nearby spring. Like all the
other shelters passed from day-to-day, Foxfire is
empty.
The sky really never clears. Rather, the rain stays,
turning from a stubborn rain, to drizzle, then back
to rain. So much for the "Perhaps, just perhaps."my
doubting, hesitant comment closing out yesterday's
entry--about the trail drying out. Some places along
today, the trail is so steep that ropes have been
tied to trees, to be used to repel where the trail
bails off. The soil types making up the tread here
turn to so much grease when saturated, as has been,
and as is the case. Very hazardous, making the going
slow and risky. I must concentrate with all
diligence, lest I pitch off--and bust it.
More old rock walls and the remains of cabin
foundations. In the foundations, where cellar pits
have been hand dug, the flat stones are placed with
such precision and care as to appear the work of
master stonemasons--pure artwork. Many of the cellar
walls, now centuries old, with little repair, could
be built upon today.
In Blodgett Mills, we take a break and head for
Cortland, and a late lunch.
The rain stays pretty much the remainder of the
day. At the intersection of Underhill and Ridge
Roads, I hang it up, and we head for the way-back
trailhead in Baker Schoolhouse SF to camp for the
night.
|
"No task's too steep for
human wit."
[Horace]
|
Saturday--August 22, 2009
Trail Day--154
Trail Mile--25.9/366/4131
Location--FLT, Baker Schoolhouse SF, then on to
Stoney Brook Road and the Onondaga Trail
The drizzle kept steady during supper. Supper got
wet. We got wet. Seems impossible there could be
room for another batch of skeeters, but they managed
to squeeze in. Mosquitoes fly fine in the rain, so
we had plenty of help from all sides, clear through
dishes.
Morning dawns dark, dank, and dismal. The dank and
dismal sets the day up, what we're to expect from
the weatherman--no sun to speak of all day.
Today will be the last of the hard pulls along the
FLT, as my trek along this path is winding
down. Hopefully, the briars and brambles will also
be winding down.
More old stone fences and long abandoned
homesteads. Sour apple trees in the middle of
nowhere are a dead giveaway. Look around the least
bit and the old cellars and rock foundations can be
seen through the brush.
The trail actually goes northeast most of the day,
instead of southwest. What a morale boost!
The least bit of burnish, tans and light browns
beginning to show on the hillsides. Less than a
month till fall now. Perhaps I'm not too early to
enjoy a little fall color on my trek through the
Adirondacks. For the hike along the Superior Trail,
my timing should be perfect for changing colors in
the birch and aspen there.
Late evening I reach Stoney Brook Road. Here, after
360 miles (all the miles hiked in New York so far)
the NCT leaves the main path of the FLT, to follow
the Onondaga Trail, a branch of the FLT. The main
FLT turns southeast to head for the Catskills; the
Onondaga will take the NCT northeast toward the
Adirondacks. I pause at the junction, sign the trail
register, and take a few pictures.
We're able to find a pull-off on Stoney Brook below
Randall Hill, and call it a day.
|
"There is no season such delight can bring,
As summer, autumn, winter and the spring."
[William Browne]
|
Sunday--August 23, 2009
Trail Day--155
Trail Mile--23.9/390/4155
Location--Cuyler, then on to Highland Forest
County Park
The cold front that was forecast to come in
yesterday afternoon finally arrived around two this
morning, bringing rain.
Another dark and dreary morning. The rain is on
hold, but there's plenty of fog.
Gordon scouts out Cuyler while I'm headed there, to
not only find a cafe, but to find it open--at
six-thirty Sunday morning. Oh yes, this day, though
foggy and threatening rain, is starting out just
fine. The special, biscuits and gravy, plus a pot of
coffee for us to split. Yup, starting out just fine!
Out of Cuyler the FLT has had to be rerouted onto a
very long round-about roadwalk, the result of
closure of a parcel of private land where the trail
previously passed. On SR-13 just past West Keeney
Road a farmer's dog comes out for a piece of my leg,
with the owner right behind, trying to make the dog
mind. In the process I meet Todd. He's very familiar
with the FLT and the NCT, has a friend who's hiked
the AT and is out on the PCT now. I ask him about
the land closure just down the road from his place,
and we also talk about possible alternate off-road
routes to take the trail into Morgan Hill SF. During
the exchange, Todd says he wouldn't mind the trail
crossing his property! Have to pass that information
along.
More climbing today, but not to the extent of
previous days. And for the most part, the tread is
hardened in from much more use, making staying on
trail very easy. It's a joy hiking well marked and
maintained trail. The rain has been threatening most
the entire day and finally comes in at four in the
form of thunderstorms, wave after wave. Not pounding
rain, but enough to create a gullywasher out of the
trail.
Late afternoon, when I break out on Highland Park
Road, in Highland Forest County Park, Gordon is
right there, waiting patiently. "Got something for
you to think about." he says with a smile, knowing
that I want to hike on at least another
hour. "Here's dinner, and we've an invitation to
stay in the park tonight, in a cabin or in the old
administration building, which has a shower." He'd
gone into the Skyline Visitor Center where he met
Lucy. Folks at Skyline know I'm coming through,
there's a reception scheduled for me in the morning,
and so Lucy has invited us to stay.
I'm tired, soaked, and dirty. The decision is
easy--quit for the day and accept Lucy's fine
hospitality. And that's exactly what we do.
A wedding reception is in full swing at the center,
but Lucy has time for me, as does her entire
staff. They each take a moment to introduce
themselves and welcome me. A happy, cheerful bunch:
Karen, Alicia, Bob, Tyler, Gina, Kaylee, Melanie,
and Sean. Also the folks catering the event stop to
meet me. They're the folks who put the dinners
together for us.
Oh my, an hour ago I was just hoping to find a place
to park the van, and perhaps, should the rain quit,
have time to crank the Coleman and cook dinner. A
beautiful thing--how this day has come around!
|
"Life holds so many simple blessings, each day
bringing its own individual wonder."
[John McLeod]
|
Monday--August 24, 2009
Trail Day--156
Trail Mile--28.7/419/4184
Location--FLT, DeRuyter SF, then on to near
Cazenovia
I stayed in the building at the old park complex
last, Gordon in the van. Another very dreary,
fogged-up morning. I get organized and manage to hit
the trail by six-thirty.
An interesting mix today, some road, some trail,
even a short bushwhack--then some rain (with hiking
companions along) to finish.
The trail leads north to the Skyline Visitor Center,
and the most spectacular view out and across The
Gulf, a lush, green valley to the north. I've
Skyline to myself, save a park employee hoisting the
flag to half mast in front of the center
building. Onondaga County has lost one of its young
and brave to the brutal conflict in Afghanistan. On
this glorious morning--a bitter reminder, one we
should all keep ever in our thoughts and never,
never forget--the true price of our fragile and
cherished freedom. To all who serve in defense of
that freedom, to those who sacrifice, and to the
dear families of all who serve, who, too,
sacrifice--thanks!
From the overlook at Skyline, the trail follows a
delightful, well groomed path down to DeRuyter Lake,
then onto private property between the lake and
DeRuyter State Forest.
Let me take a moment now. To Frank, whose land I am
now crossing, and to all the many unselfish
landowners who permit the NCT to pass, and in the
process, permit perfect strangers passage across
their property--thanks, thanks so much. If not for
landowners like Frank, there would be no North
Country National Scenic Trail.
From DeRuyter SF I've a short bushwhack over to
Fairbanks Road, then a roadwalk through New
Woodstock and on to Tioughnioga WMA.
Here, Gordon and I break to return to Skyline
Visitor Center and a reception for us to be given by
the Onondaga Chapter, Adirondack Mountain Club. It
turns to be a most memorable event, one I'll
certainly remember. To all who attended: Stan, Bill,
Mary, Mardi, Chuck, Ed S., Ed O., Valerie, Jon, Sigi,
and Dick, thanks! Especially, thank you Mary and
Bill. And at Highland Forest County Park, thank you,
Lucy, thank you, Brian! And to the caterers, again,
thanks. I also meet and talk with Emily, a young
reporter with Pennysaver out of Syracuse. A fun
interview.
In the afternoon, and after stuffing myself at the
reception, Gordon gets me back on trail. And what a
pleasure having hiking companions, if just for a
short while. With them I share a special
moment. For, where we end our hike together, I put
the Finger Lakes Trail behind me. Thanks Mary, Bill,
Dick, and Sigi, for hiking with me today--what a
delightful time!
From the WMA, I've a short roadwalk to Stone Quarry
Hill, then finely groomed trail all the way to
Cazenovia. At the trailhead in Cazenovia, I meet
Eagle Eye, a fellow AT thru-hiker and local
trail maintainer, and we share a few moments
reminiscing our respective AT hikes.
Gordon and I have been invited to spend the night
with Bill and Mary, so near Cazenovia we call it a
day and head for their home in Canastota.
An incredible day, just an incredible day!
|
"I want to
thank everybody who made this day necessary."
[Yogi Berra]
|
Tuesday--August 25, 2009
Trail Day--157
Trail Mile--18.5/438/4203
Location--Cazenovia, then on past Canastota
Thanks, Bill and Mary, for the great reception at
Skyline, for the opportunity to make so many new
friends. We received such great energy from each and
every one of you, a blessing to both Gordon and to
me. The Onondaga Chapter, Adirondack Mountain
Club--great folks. Yes, thank you, thank you so
much!
The cold front has finally passed through leaving a
perfectly clear, haze-free day. A bit of trail, an
old railtrail out of Cazenovia, takes me north and
east to the old Erie Canal by Canastota. Yes, I'm
actually hiking northeast! Some delightful
roadwalking, with a splendid view out and across
Oneida Lake, and a final section of superb railtrail
through the Canastota Creek cut, and I'm in
Canastota. Here I pick up the Old Erie Canal
Towpath, which I'll hike all the way to Rome.
A problem is developing with the van, it's been
shimmying and shaking, getting worse each day. There
seems to be something wrong with the right front
wheel. In Canastota we have it looked at. A bad tire
right-front is the culprit. Good thing we stopped
and took time to have it replaced. Gordon has AAA,
but we sure wouldn't want to be in a predicament
where it was needed. We're headed for Crown Point
with little time to spare. No stopping us now! The
Mackinac Bridge is waiting, with the only
opportunity to hike it being Labor Day, the 7th of
next month. It's just too good an opportunity to
pass up, with the timing right to do it--just really
tight time-wise; what else! Wouldn't want to be
telling folks later that I hiked the entire NCT
while having taken a five-mile ride across the
bridge.
We end the day just short of Durhamville. Supper is
compliments of Journey (Subway gift
cards). We "camp" for the night in the Oneida Wal-mart
parking lot.
|
"Circumstances may cause interruptions and delays,
but never lose sight of your goal.
Prepare yourself in every way you can by increasing
your knowledge
and adding to your experience, so that you can
make the most of opportunity when it occurs."
[Mario Andretti]
|
Wednesday--August 26, 2009
Trail Day--158
Trail Mile--22.1/460/4225
Location--Old Erie Canal SHP, Durhamville, then
on to near Westernville
Wal-mart actually works quite well as a campground,
level site, nightlight, relative quiet, no hassle
from anyone--and best of all it's free. Yup, Wal-mart
works just fine.
On our way back to the Old Erie Canal we find a
dandy mom-n-pop diner for breakfast--and I still
make it to the trail by seven.
A fine morning, cool and clear. But before noon the
clouds begin rolling in. Gordon tells me the
forecast is for scattered afternoon
thundershowers. Sure enough, by noon the sky darks
over and the rain begins. I'm near the van, so I
just hop in and sit it out. Plenty of sitting and
waiting, as the storm doesn't move on through until
after two.
Towpath hiking is okay, same as railgrade hiking,
except no grade, just flat. In fact, the entire
canal hike today is through a section called The Big
Level. The ground is so level there isn't a single
lock the entire day. That's level!
By late afternoon I'm at Old Erie Canal Village, a
canal era attraction. There's even a replica canal
boat to haul sightseers along a section of the canal
that's been kept clear of trees and brush.
In Rome I take time to visit Fort Stanwix, a replica
fort, the finest of such work I've ever seen.
Takes awhile to put Rome in my rearview, but by late
afternoon I'm back in the New York countryside,
where we soon reach a state park campground, to camp
for the night.
|
"For the man sound in body and serene of mind there
is no such thing as bad weather;
every day has its beauty, and storms which whip the
blood do but make it pulse more vigorously."
[George Gissing]
|
Thursday--August 27, 2009
Trail Day--159
Trail Mile--23.9/484/4249
Location--Westernville, then on to near
Forestport
Nobody's stirring in the campground this morning,
way too early. We're out just after first light and
Gordon has me back on the road to Westernville by
six-thirty.
A clear but very cool morning. Hands in my pockets
the entire first hour. I start climbing right off
the bat, and the climb continues through North
Western, Hillside, Dunn Brook and Hurlburtville/Pixley
Falls SP. At Pixley Falls the BREIA Towpath begins.
The Black River Canal was famous for having the most
locks over the shortest distance, 109 in 35
miles. As I climb the towpath, and it is a steady
climb, I pass lock after lock, some so close
together there'd hardly have been room for a canal
boat between them. The towpath is as a fine lawn,
freshly mowed, very neatly groomed. It's a very
pleasant hike in to Boonville.
In Boonville we break for lunch at Subway, again
compliments of Journey.
At Erwin Park (and a quite impressive covered
bridge), I head out on the Black River Feeder Canal
Towpath, which runs some ten mile on up to
Forestport. Another very pleasant hike, neat tread,
either finely crushed stone or grass. Gordon is able
to get to the canal from a number of points along,
and I keep watered up from the van.
Early evening, and after a glorious hiking day,
weather-wise--and otherwise, we pull up short of
Forestport and call it a day.
|
"Nature is man's teacher.
She unfolds her treasures to his search,
unseals his eye, illumes his mind, and purifies his
heart;
an influence breathes from all the sights and sounds
of her existence."
[Alfred Billings Street]
|
Friday--August
28, 2009
Trail Day--160
Trail Mile--26.2/510/4275
Location--Forestport, then on to near Old Forge
Dinner last was at a fine local restaurant, and from
there it was no more than a mile up the road to a
private campground for the night, a very cool one,
perfect for a good night's rest.
First light we're headed for the local cafe for
breakfast--and coffee. When the kind waitress finds
out what we're about, she has to call Jean, a local
lady who was instrumental in getting the Black River
Towpath cleared and usable again--then to become a
fine section of the NCT. Jean arrives while we're at
breakfast and we have a fine chat. Picture time,
then Gordon gets me out and going for the roadwalk
up to near Old Forge.
The Forestport post office opens at eight-thirty, so
after a stretch on the highway, Gordon runs me back
to town. Everything's right here waiting for
me. "You're the hiker, aren't you?"kind smile from
the postmistress. "You've got boxes and letters." I
had Dwinda send my winter gear back, gloves,
sleeping bag, raingear, plus the maps I'll need to
finish up in Minnesota and North Dakota--it's all
here. Letters and cards, too, and some mighty fine
coffee from a dear Nimblewill fan in Baton
Rouge. Thanks, Fred, for your thoughtfulness!
Lots of traffic, not bumper-to-bumper, but steady
and heavy. Seems everybody has taken Friday off, and
they're all headed for Adirondack State Park. Not
the last big weekend of the summer, that's coming
next week, but it's close, and folks want as much
time in the mountains as they can get.
I'm hiking northeast steady the whole day. NY-28 is
Nomad's NCT route!
With the hordes of people on the road, I never
dreamed of finding a room in Old Forge, especially
at my hiker trash rate, but the second motel I hit
takes us in, the Adirondack Lodge. Thanks, Matt, for
your thoughtful kindness. Supper is at the local
steak house, super prime rib.
We're no more in our room than the rain comes,
again--and stays all night.
|
"Walking takes longer than any other known form of
locomotion except crawling.
Thus it stretches time and prolongs life.
Life is already too short to waste on speed."
[Edward Abbey]
|
|
Saturday--August 29, 2009
Trail Day--161
Trail Mile--24.6/535/4300
Location--Adirondack SP, Old Forge, then on to
near Eagle Lake
A very restful night in Old Forge. Clean body, clean
clothes. Probably the last opportunity to get
cleaned up before reaching Crown Point sometime next
Wednesday.
Another dismal morning, not raining at the moment,
but it won't take long. I was really hoping for nice
weather to finish here in the Adirondacks, but it
doesn't appear to be shaping that way. Yup, here
comes the rain!
Sure glad to have my winter gear back. Got my
long-sleeved poly on, plus my winter rain jacket and
gloves. Poncho is on and off a dozen or more times
this day.
The road, NY-28, keeps me on a steady climb the
whole day. By day's end we're up around 2000 feet.
Not many pull-offs along the road, but near dusk
Gordon finds a trailhead and we pull in for the
night. Dinty with corn. Then fruit cocktail for
dessert.
|
"When we long for life without difficulties,
remind us that oaks grow strong in contrary
winds and diamonds are made under pressure."
[Peter
Marshall]
|
Sunday--August 30, 2009
Trail Day--162
Trail Mile--50.0/585/4350
Location--Adirondack SP, Eagle Lake, past Long
Lake on the Northville/Lake Placid Trail (N/PT),
then on to Cold River Lean-to #4, Cold River
Another super-mile day? No, not really. Since
entering New York I've managed to keep up with the
daily itinerary miles. Along the way, and from
time-to-time, for the past twenty-some days, I've
also managed to pick up a few extra miles here and
there. Over the months you've probably figured out
how this daily mileage thing works. If not, here's
the routine: No matter the miles I manage to hike
any given day, when the next-up itinerary location
is passed, that location is clicked off and is then
listed in the header stats for the day
(25.6+24.4=50). For yesterday's stats and if you'll
look back for the past number of days, you'll notice
that I continued coming close to passing another
itinerary day. Well, today, and with the advantage
of having a running (no pun intended) number of road
days--and as a result--I passed two itinerary clicks
today, the short remainder of one, plus a full one.
So, that's how the 50 miles for this day's entry got
there. Anyway, all this mileage stuff is not a
consuming issue. It's just fun, and I like to keep
track.
While choosing my route, preparing maps for the
Adirondacks last winter, and while becoming familiar
with the area, I had assumed the roads I'd be hiking
would be isolated and remote. But today I find that
not the case at all. The Adirondack SP is the
apparent summer playground for all of New York City,
and then some. Every lake, even the smaller ones,
all have cabins and cottages lining their
shores. And this is vacation time, the highways
choked with traffic. Today I'm hiking state roads
28, 30, and 28N. The little villages along, Raquette
Lake, Blue Mountain Lake, and Long Lake, all are
bustling with summer vacationers. Near the Pinnacle,
east of Long Lake, I leave the highway to begin my
hike up the N/PT. I enter the trail with a heavy
pack as I'll not see Gordon again for three
days. I'll be on the N/PT the remainder of this day
and a good bit of tomorrow before I break off and
head over to pick up the Range Trail in the High
Peaks Wilderness. Once there, I'll be on that trail
the better part of a day before descending to St.
Huberts.
The hike up the lake starts out easy enough, but as
the afternoon progresses, the tread becomes quite
rocky, choked with roots, and the rain comes once
again. Mud, mud, and more mud. It's a long,
difficult day by the time I reach the shelter at
Cold River. Got a hunch these next two days are also
going to be long and difficult.
|
"Life is all about timing...the unreachable becomes
reachable,
the unavailable become available, the
unattainable...attainable.
Have the patience, wait it out. It's all about
timing."
[Stacey Charter]
|
Monday--August 31, 2009
Trail Day--163
Trail Mile--22.6/608/4373
Location--N/PT, Adirondack SP, Duck Hole, then on
to Lake Colden, High Peaks Wilderness (HPW)
The shelters in the Adirondacks are called (yup)
Adirondack shelters! The design, a three-sided
affair with a long- and a short-sided roof
apparently got its beginning in these
mountains. Lean-tos of like design are to be found
on trails pretty much everywhere now, especially
along the Appalachian Trail. Last evening I stayed
in one of them, Cold River #3. Hadn't seen another
soul on the trail all day--had the shelter to
myself.
The night turned cold but I managed to sleep
warm. Takes awhile to talk myself into moving this
morning. In no time I'm totally soaked. The trail
continues the steady climb begun before Old
Forge. I'm at near 3,000 feet now. On Mt. Marcy, the
highest point in New York, I'll be above 5,000 feet.
There are a number of intersections to deal with
today, but so far I've managed to turn the right
direction and get through them. My GPS plus spot-on
waypoints really helps. As afternoon turns to
evening, the trail turns more and more gnarly, large
boulders in a total jumble, more roots, and
indescribable mud. It's obvious--at a time not too
far distant, horses were permitted in the HPW. Every
rock and boulder bears the unmistakable scars. As a
result, the trail has suffered irreversible
damage. Where once existed pleasant tread, that's
now gone, replaced by a rut that has the bottom
completely blown out. Nothing but rocks, roots, and
ledges remain on the steep sidehills, with
industrial, cesspool-deep mud elsewhere. All along,
the trail appears much as a creek, and I am (more
than not) in it up to and above my hips. Treacherous
stuff to clamber through. Each step must be placed
with total diligence, lest I turn an ankle or pitch
off in a header. Aw, and after I've done so well all
day, just at dusk it happens. I slip on a root and
go flying. A badly scratched knee and a bent camera
case are the result. I get really angry with
myself. I pray every day for patience. I have it; I
know I have it. Now's the time to show a little.
After bragging about how well I've navigated the
turns today, late afternoon now I miss a turn and
end up bushwhacking back and forth across Opalescent
River for over half a mile. A well-placed waypoint
saves me going back, but arriving the dam at Lake
Colden I'm totally soaked and covered with mud.
Tired to the bone I take (and treat) water from the
river, find a flat spot in the pine, then pitch--and
call it a day.
|
"Adapt or perish, now as ever, is nature's
inexorable imperative."
[H. G. Wells]
|
Tuesday--September 1, 2009
Trail Day--164
Trail Mile--24.8/633/4398
Location--Adirondack SP, Saint Huberts
Another cold night. Somehow I managed to keep my 32
degree down bag dry yesterday. So, in my tent, in my
bag, on my pad, I slept very well, restful, warm,
comfortable.
This morning I'm out and moving just after first
light. More climbing and clambering, through the
maze of roots and boulders. Slow, deliberate
progress, very slow. More turns, but I manage them
okay. I'm bound for Mt. Marcy and nothing's stopping
me--I'm into it now.
Seems as though the climb will never end. It would
take nearly three Marcys, one stacked atop the
other, to stand with an Elbert or a Whitney. I
recall those climbs, the highest and second highest
peaks in the lower 48. But this climb up Marcy seems
far more difficult and much, much longer. Finally,
at ten-thirty I'm standing on the summit of Mt.
Marcy. I've the place entirely to myself. Too early
for anyone else to be here. First to arrive behind
me, one of the peak stewards. They make the ascent
to the top of Marcy every day. Don't miss the photos
and videos I've taken here--spectacular!
Okay, good a time as any to get this off my
chest. Yes, mother, I know, I know--I'll try to keep
it short, to the point, and not so critical, then
I'll shut up: One of the most glorious of Nature's
creations through which this remarkable NCT
passes--the Adirondacks of upstate New York. But
there is no designated NCT route here. "Incredible,"
you say! Yes it is incredible. After years and years
of arguing, haggling, planning and compromising, the
best the powers that be have to offer involve three
potential corridors, none of which include Mt.
Marcy, the Range Trail, or any of the grand and
awe-inspiring high peaks that comprise the High
Peaks Wilderness. You then say, "How could this
be?" Well, don't look to me for the answer to that
question. It's unexplainable, and it's sad, really
sad. For the pointy-heads to have gotten their way,
to have caused such bureaucratic delay, shame on
them. To those of you who've sat and listened to
them cry and whine about how routing the NCT through
the High Peaks Wilderness would somehow adversely
impact the high peaks, how you sat patiently and
listened for years with straight faces, shame,
double shame on you. Their tired, worn assertions
are utterly laughable, just laughable--that bunch
should have been laughed out of the room long, long
ago--shame, shame.
Yes, I am speaking here out of frustration and
anger, anger that is grounded in a deep, abiding
passion for this incredible North Country National
Scenic Trail. Folks, it's time to take the gloves
off. Forget your "political capital," whatever that
is. Look where that's gotten you! It's time
(actually it's far past time) to establish the
rightful, climactic ending to this trail. And folks,
that ending is sure not one of the pathetic of the
three negotiated, picked over, and compromised
routes you're looking at. Ah, but you then say, "All
these years, we've been working this all these
years." So, okay, you've been working it all these
years, all the better. Just don't let those years be
spent in vain; don't settle for second, third, or
fourth best, that's where you're headed. Go to your
legislature here in New York if you have to. Go to
your governor if you have to. Go to the people if
you have to. The Adirondacks belong to the people,
not the pointy-heads that are telling you how it's
going to be. And when you finally have it out with
those who think they rule the Adirondacks, when you
have to listen one final time to all the hollow,
meritless assertions, don't forget to stand up and
laugh the bastards (a word used quite often by
Abbey) out of the room.
Folks, Congress established and the President of the
United States signed into law the National Scenic
Trails Act. In that act were there created eleven
National Scenic Trails. The North Country National
Scenic Trail is no less important than those I'll
mention below. It rates that level of significance,
that importance. The High Peaks Wilderness, those
lands--in great part, have been set aside and
designated "wilderness" because of their scenic
nature.
The Pacific Crest National Scenic Trail has its High
Sierras, the Cascades. The Continental Divide
National Scenic Trail has the grand and glorious
Rockies. The Appalachian National Scenic Trail has
its Whites. Not to route the North Country National
Scenic Trail within the High Peaks literally defies
Congressional intent. Stay with it and get it
right! Nuff; thanks for letting me have my say.
Well, as you've learned here, Nimblewill Nomad's
NCT route through the Adirondacks goes the High
Peaks Range Trail (HPRT). Off Marcy it's a bail-off,
with the HPRT taking me across and then straight up
Little Haystack. After that ricochet comes Basin
Mountain, then the near-vertical ascent (with a
short technical section) up Saddleback
Mountain. Another lesser descent across another
saddle and I'm into the Gothics.
It's getting late in the day now, not enough time
left to continue on to Armstrong and Upper and Lower
Wolfjaw. So, with great reluctance I leave the HPRT
and descend Beaver Meadows Falls Trail, down, down,
and down, over the rocks, boulders, and ledges, to
Ausable Lake Road--and St. Huberts. David, a strong,
young peak-bagger I'd hiked some with over Basin and
Saddleback, who left the trail before me, took time
to track Gordon down and tell him where I'd be
emerging from my three-day jaunt through the
Adirondacks. And dependable, reliable Gordon, he's
patiently waiting for me at the gate to the
Adirondack Mountain Reserve, right where David said
I'd come out. Thanks, David!
A fine supper at the little cafe up the road, then
to the trailhead below St. Huberts. Gordon maneuvers
the van to get it nearly level and this day is done.
|
"It isn't that they can't see the solution. It's
that they can't see the problem."
[G. K. Chesterton]
|
Wednesday--September 2, 2009
Trail Day--165
Trail Mile--27.8/661/4426
Location--Crown Point State Historic Site
After three days of trekking the Adirondacks and the
High Peaks Wilderness, this final day o'er the NCT,
from St. Huberts to Crown Point, is pretty
uneventful. It involves a short off-road section to
connect with Crowfoot Road, less than three miles,
mostly along an old logging road, from where
Gordon's gone around to hike in a short distance to
meet me. From here it's paved road through the
villages of Moriah and Port Henry, then through
scenic, rural countryside, around to Crown Point.
I arrive late afternoon. I know I've reached the end
of the NCT here at Crown Point, but there are no
final blazes, no kiosk, nothing I can find to mark
the end.
I climb the embankment to the old British
fortification, to the high point above and
overlooking Lake Champlain. Here I pause to give a
short prayer of thanks, then I whisper to myself
that this is it.
Sailboats are plying the bay formed by Crown Point,
a quiet, peaceful evening, a very picturesque
setting. Time for a few pictures and a video or
two--then I turn away.
|
"Reaching a goal, unremarkable as it may often
appear to be, is yet most remarkable
because it's God's way of letting you know He has
heard your prayers."
{Linda CyWiz Stolte]
|
Thursday--September 3, 2009
Trail Day--166
Trail Mile--29.3/29/4456
Location--Brandon, Vermont
There's a state campground on the point, on the New
York side of the bridge. Being late evening we
decided to pull in and call it a day. Good old
reliable spaghetti, a quick fix and a sure filler
upper.
Interesting that another odyssey should end at a
lighthouse. Here at Crown Point there's a
magnificent stone lighthouse. From Lake Champlain
Bridge this morning I'm able to get some fine shots,
not only of the lighthouse, but across Lake
Champlain, back toward the old fort ruins at Crown
Point, and to the east, into Vermont.
From Crown Point to East Clarendon, in Vermont, it's
52 miles to where the Appalachian Trail crosses the
railroad tracks there. That's where I'm headed now.
You may recall that I began this odyssey at the
Knife River Indian Villages National Historic Site
in Stanton, North Dakota, a day's hike south of the
NCT western terminus at Lake Sakakawea SP, the
purpose being to connect Odyssey '09 to my previous
treks o'er the Lewis and Clark National Historic
Trail. Those odyssey years were 2004 and 2006, the
100th anniversary years (outbound and return) of the
Lewis and Clark Expedition.
Odysseys '98 and '00 included thru-hikes o'er the
Appalachian Trail. Both of those treks took me
across the tracks in East Clarendon. And so, this
extended two-day journey east.
Across Lake Champlain Bridge I enter a lush, green
valley, dairy farms, fields of grain and hay,
beautiful homes. It's a fine hiking day, sparse
traffic, open road, good visibility, okay
shoulders. Gordon and I hopscotch along. He goes
ahead a couple miles then pulls off. When I catch
up, he'll hop on ahead a couple more. It's an easy
thirty-mile day. Late evening, and south of Brandon,
I manage a great hiker trash deal at the mom-n-pop
motel. It's Dinty on the old Coleman, right in our
room.
|
"Creativity is the power to connect the seemingly
unconnected."
[William Plomer]
|
Friday--September 4, 2009
Trail Day--167
Trail Mile--23.2/52/4479
Location--Appalachian National Scenic Trail, East
Clarendon
Another fine day for roadwalking, this my last, to
conclude the eastern extent of this NCT odyssey.
The state road I've been hiking, and now, as I
continue south toward Rutland on US-7, am I
following a very old route, a military road built by
General Amhurst in 1760. I suspect the US-7 part is
now much wider and smoother than that old road.
As I hike on down to East Clarendon, Gordon has gone
on ahead to have the van serviced, oil change,
grease job, all the system checks. We've got a fair
amount of long hauling just ahead of us, first to
Michigan for the Mackinac Bridgewalk Monday, then
from there to the Arrowhead of Minnesota, some 1,500
miles.
The roadwalk goes well, and at two I reach East
Clarendon and the white blazes marking the
Appalachian Trail.
A few more pictures, a stop at the Whistlestop for
some ice cream, and we're on our way to
Michigan. The eastern extent of this trek is a done
deal!
Dark comes at 250 miles, so we find a rest area,
pull in, and this day is over.
|
"The most important thing about goals is having
one."
[Geoffry F. Abert]
|
Saturday--September 5, 2009
Trail Day--168
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Gordon's brother's home, Ypsilanti,
Michigan
Today is totally a road day as we drive on up to
Ypsilanti, where J.R. and Luene live, Gordon's
brother and sister-in-law. Their place is only
minutes from US-23, so makes sense to stop for
awhile, at least. Awhile will be an overnight as
they've invited us to stay. We make good time,
arriving a little after three.
A great afternoon and evening. Both J.R. and Luene
were genuinely pleased to meet me--kind, gentle
folks.
Good company, great home cooking (including apple
crumb dessert), clean clothes--and body, and a
softer than Therm-a-Rest bed for the night.
|
"Diligence is a good thing, but taking things easy
is much more restful."
[Mark Twain]
|
Sunday--September 6, 2009
Trail Day--169
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Glen's Market, St. Ignace
Big high pressure area covering the entire region,
all the way to the Upper Peninsula, so hopefully,
we'll have a good day for the bridgewalk tomorrow.
We linger with J.R. and Luene, a few pictures. As
you know, good-byes are always tough, not an easy
thing for me. I'll likely not see either of these
dear people ever again. Thanks folks for your
kindness to this old man.
J.R. and Luene head for church, we head for
Minnesota and unfinished trail business there. It's
around 250 to St. Ignace and we make it by late
afternoon. Gordon's done the bridgewalk many times,
with his sister, Sue Ellen, and with many friends,
so he knows his way around up here. A quick trip
into Glen's Market right by the bridge, and Gordon's
got us a place to park the van for the night, right
in Glen's lot.
A visit to Big Boy finishes the day quite nicely.
|
"Where is the good in goodbye?"
[Meredith Willson]
|
Monday--Labor Day, September 7, 2009
Trail Day--170
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Wal-Mart Motel (parking lot), Ironwood
In the daily stats, from this day forward, and to
the end of this odyssey, you'll see the number 4479
continually repeated at "Trail Mile." That's because
the miles remaining, the five across the bridge
today, and the 300 miles (give or take) that
comprise the Border Route and Superior Hiking Trails
have already been included in the total. It was just
easier at the time to leave the listed itinerary
miles as they were. You may recall me saying, "I'll
all shake out in the end." And so.
The Hiawatha Shore-to-Shore Chapter, North
Country Trail Association, the local trail chapter,
has sponsored and is putting on a camp-out for all
to attend during the Labor Day Bridge Walk, running
from September 4th through the 8th. It's located
just a short distance north of St. Ignace, so after
we arrived yesterday, Gordon drove us up there, to
see some old friends and make some new ones. Thanks
to everyone--and everyone did take time to greet us
and to wish us well. Especially, thanks, Marv and
Charlene, camp-out organizers!
There's a heavy blanket of fog this morning,
otherwise, the day dawns calm and clear, the makings
for a glorious day to do the 52nd Annual Mackinac
Bridge Walk. Thousands of people have shown up to be
part of this special day. The description I've
heard, "Labor Day on the Mackinac Bridge is a
happening." is an understatement if there ever was
one. How to give it proper due, that I don't
know. You've just gotta wait for the pictures and
videos. The words "zoo" and "circus" come to mind,
but neither fit here. Reason being: The Mackinac
Bridge Authority, the St. Ignace Chamber of
Commerce, and the Greater Mackinaw Area Chamber of
Commerce, the folks who put this day on, they're
pros, the entire event orderly, well managed to the
last detail. Example: Everyone receives a
certificate at the finish line. I got mine,
#24,841. I walked with friends from Marquette,
Lorana, Cliff, and Peter. Also in our group, Bruce,
NCTA Executive Director from Lowell. The fog, which
shrouded the towers (an eerie scene), lifted just as
we entered the suspension section, perfect timing,
perfect day!
Returning from Mackinaw City to St. Ignace
was quick and easy, again the result of perfect
planning. School buses from all over Michigan were
waiting for the throngs. I stood in line less than
five minutes. Once across, I had a short walk back
to Glen's where Gordon had parked us the night
before.
Now it's on to Minnesota and unfinished
business there, the Border Route and Superior Hiking
Trails. I had to bypass them early on due to
adverse weather and trail conditions at the
time. Out of St. Ignace and heading west we make
good time, all the way to Ironwood in the western
Upper Peninsula.
It's been a small trail-mile day, but a big
accomplishment one--for sure!
|
"There is no one giant step that does it.
It's lots of little steps."
[Peter A Cohen]
|
Tuesday--September 8, 2009
Trail Day--171
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Heston's Lodge, Gunflint Lake,
Minnesota
This will be another day of travel, as we continue
on north and west, back to Heston's Lodge in the
Arrowhead Region, near Boundary Waters Canoe Area
Wilderness, Minnesota. From Heston's to Two Harbors,
there lies the gap in this hike (seems so long ago
now). Both Greg and Barb had urged me not to try
hiking the Border Route Trail at the time. I heeded
their advice, and from what I've since learned about
the trail conditions at the time, I'm sure glad I
did!
We reach their lodge early afternoon, to be greeted
by Addie, their daughter. Soon come Greg and
Barb. They remember me well and are genuinely happy
and pleased to see me again.
With some final details and planning yet to do, I
decide to tarry till morning before climbing to the
trail above Heston's. Barb shows Gordon a flat spot
for the van and we're in for the night.
For this long journey back we've had wide, safe
passage. Thank you, Lord!
|
"Let good or ill befall,
It must be good for me;
Secure of having Thee in all,
Of having all in Thee."
[Henry F. Lyte] |
Wednesday--September 9, 2009
Trail Day--172
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness,
near Daniels Lake, the old Alger Smith Railroad
grade
Just up from Heston's Lodge and a short distance
east lies the western extent of the Boundary Waters
Canoe Area Wilderness. Within the wilderness the
Border Route Trail runs for over forty miles, with
no road crossings, no access other than by trail or
canoe, so I've at least one overnight before coming
out at Arrowhead Trail Trailhead, Little John.
Gear usually left in the van must be carried, my
tent, sleeping pad, etc., extra weight I'm not
accustomed to toting--plus two to three days
food. At seven I'm pack up and ready. More sad
good-byes. Greg, Barb, and Addie have been so kind
to me. I'll likely never see them again--they've
become very good friends.
The climb up from Heston's is gentle, but I'm
feeling the pull, what with my heavier-than-usual
pack. Oh, and it doesn't take long before I begin
encountering much brush and many blowdowns,
harbingers of what's to come. And just a short while
further, the rain begins. I stop to dig out my
poncho, but with the trail totally choked with
briars and brush, I'm soaked immediately.
The trail is not difficult, some climbing, the usual
rocks and roots, but given the overgrowth of briars,
brambles and brush, which makes safe foot placement
impossible, somewhere along I manage to sprain my
left knee. It's a dull pain to begin with. Then as
the day wears on, and as I stumble and bumble my way
along the concealed tread, the pain becomes more
persistent, sharp and intense. I toil long in the
climbs up from Mucker and Stairway.
Sections of my hike today are noted for their
splendid vantage points, but for me, as I trudge
along soaked and sore, there is little to marvel
at. With the treadway wet, conditions as they are
today, the going is treacherous. Slick rocks, slick
roots. I have already fallen many times. I do stop,
and I do get a few pictures, but the drear provides
a not-so-magnificent backdrop. Stairway, which I
mentioned above, is a very unusual portage, a
special place. It was built originally by the CCC in
the 1930s. There are 28 steps down, leading to
Duncan Lake on the south, and 91, down the north
side to Rose Lake. Better judgment tells me not to
go climbing around Stairway today.
As I continue generally north and east, does this
trail continue to offer up the four "Bs" (briars,
brambles, Blowdowns, and Brush), the last two,
you'll note, begin in caps. Descending from near
Caribou Rock, down to Rose Lake, the trail turns, to
make a long sweep to the northeast. Near the eastern
shore of Rose Lake, and just short of Long Portage,
I am within yards of the Canadian Border--and the
northernmost point along the NCT (North 48 degrees,
6.131 minutes - West 90 degrees, 23.899 minutes).
Along the Long Portage, which the BRT/NCT follows,
are the remains of the old Alger Smith Railroad, now
just a nearly level two-track with a few
yet-to-rot-out short ties.
At the portage intersection between Daniels and Rove
Lakes, I find a rock-free spot and call an end to
this anxious, wearisome, pain wracked day.
|
"Thro'
many dangers, toils, and snares,
I have already come;
'Tis Grace has brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home."
[John Newton, Amazing Grace] |
Thursday--September 10, 2009
Trail Day--173
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness,
by the ridgetop east of East Pike Lake
A fretful night.Life, with everything soaked, my
tent, my pad, all my clothing, my shoes and socks,
sure nobody's idea of fun. Somehow again, and I know
not how, I did manage to keep my down bag reasonably
dry (only half soggy rather than full soggy). So I
slept better than expected, sure better than
deserved.
I'm having great difficulty this morning, convincing
myself I need to get out and get going. It's barely
first light. I've over 20 miles of slow, rugged
trekking, and I've got to move out if I'm to make it
on through to Arrowhead Trail where Gordon will be
waiting.
I doubled up on my enteric-coated aspirin yesterday
in order to keep my knee pain tolerable. Smart, real
smart--that leaves me with only one remaining 325mg
pill to manage my pain this entire day. So, okay old
man, suck it up and go--dang, quit your whining!
The day comes on dismal and dark, with low,
water-laden clouds brushing through the trees. Being
wet to start off with takes all the fun out of
getting completely soaked again. Bad attitude, I
know, bad. Just--I can't concentrate on the
surrounds, indescribable beauty, views of the many
high cliffs, the remarkable unfettered and unbroken
wilderness. What with my continually falling to
contend with, followed by my continual praying for
successful passage through this nightmare of
waterlogged tangle, blowdowns, and brush, just can't
concentrate.
I've some very tricky intersections and turns to
negotiate today. What a blessing, having had the
gumption to create waypoints for them. The first is
just past the high saddle between Clearwater and
Rove Lakes at a three-way intersection. My
coordinates are dead on.
At the 81rd portage between Clearwater and Mountain
Lakes I hear voices. Soon come two young chaps, one
lugging the canoe, the other hauling and dragging
their paddles and shoulder-strapped bundles of
gear. I manage to get a "Hi" out of them as they
pass. Looks of it, I'd say they didn't want to stop
for fear of never getting started again!
By early afternoon, and moving pitifully slow, I
manage Gogebic Lake. Here's a most delightful
campsite, situated just up enough from the shore to
be sheltered, yet positioned such as to provide an
unobstructed view, clear across the lake to the high
ridge beyond--to where the trail will soon lead. The
sun enters to make a passing show, giving a splash
on the water, bringing a brilliance not seen this
day--then it's quickly gone.
By late evening, after moving so pitifully slow this
entire day, it becomes evident I'll never make it
out to Arrowhead Trail before dark. My little dink
Garmin, a waypoint set for the bridge at Arrowhead,
tells me I'm less than two miles (as the crow flies)
from the trailhead there, but there's just no
way. My pain-tolerance locker is empty. My energy
reserves are totally spent. The good light of this
day is nearly gone. By the ridge above John Lake I
find a century-old leveled-out blowdown hole, and in
that final moment just before dark-thirty, I drive
the last tent stake to hold down my pitiful,
waterlogged tent.
|
"There's a hand that stretches
downward,
Makes my feet to walk again.
Tho my journey may be rugged,
He'll be with me 'til the end."
[D. Sue Jones Horton] |
Friday--September 11, 2009
Trail Day--174
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Arrowhead Trail, Little John/McFarland
Another not-so-great night on the trail. Crawling,
totally soaked, into a soaked tent, with a knee that
doesn't want to bend, not the best for a pleasant
time. But I did make the best of it and I did manage
to rest reasonably well.
My right knee gave me a fit the entire day last, not
a moment of letup with the pain. Rolling out this
morning, I am very stiff and sore. Finally, I'm pack
up and moving, although ever-so-slowly. I've a hunch
these last couple-three miles will stick in my
memory awhile.
Two hours, two hours, that's the time it takes to
hobble the gradual downhill to Arrowhead Trail. More
blowdowns to contend with, with a left leg that
doesn't want to lift. What a deal; it is funny!
Gordon's waiting patiently for me. He senses
something's bad wrong right away. "Your sticks
aren't clicking!" his comment, as he looks at me
with much concern. Hard bringing myself to tell him,
yet my tear-filled eyes tell him: "This hike's over
for now, Gordon. I can't continue with this pain."
After 4100 miles, only 300 left to finish this
odyssey--I don't understand, I just don't
understand. And so, with great reluctance, we turn
from this trail, load, and head for home.
|
"Someday He'll make it plain
to me,
Someday when I His face shall see;
Someday from tears I shall be free,
For someday I shall understand."
[Linda Shivers Leech] |
Friday--September 25, 2009
Trail Day--175
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Grand Portage State Forest, Otter Lake
Road Trailhead, Superior Hiking Trail
Guess you couldn't help but notice the two-week gap
between this journal entry date and the last. Reason
for it: I've been home with my left leg up, trying
to heal a blown out knee. I suffered the injury
first day out from Heston's on the Border Route
Trail, while hiking miles of blowdowns and
brush. After the injury, I continued near two full
days before giving it up. The pain had become
intolerable; worse, my left leg kept going out from
under me causing me to fall countless times. There
was just no way of continuing. So, Gordon loaded me,
then drove me back to Missouri, and home.
But we're back now, to the very spot my hike was
abruptly halted two weeks ago--to give it a go
again. Folks, I'm no quitter. You can tag me with
whatever, pick a label--but please, just not
"quitter." One of the greatest endurance athletes
alive today, Lance Armstrong, said, "Pain is
temporary. Quitting lasts forever."
Anyway, I'm back. My knee isn't fully recovered, but
Dr. Tim, my sports med doc in Jeff City has given me
the go-ahead. "Start out slow and easy." he told
me. And so, this morning I'm out and moving--slowly,
my left knee tightly wrapped in an Ace bandage.
I can feel a deep, dull pain in the knee almost
immediately, and I am stiff all over, my whole body
rebelling as I try getting loosened up and moving
again. I've less than 300 miles to go to close this
gap, the final gap in what will be a continuous
hike, a thru-hike, from Lake Sakakawea in central
North Dakota, to Crown Point at Lake Champlain in
upstate New York, 4,400 miles o'er the North Country
National Scenic Trail--perhaps not the finest
quality as thru-hikes sometimes go, but a thru-hike
none-the-less.
Today will bring me to the end of the Border Route
Trail, a very remote, very difficult trail to
hike. And the going is again difficult, but heeding
Doc Tim's advice, I manage to pace myself--not a
difficult task, what with the continuing difficulty
with my left knee. So far, it hasn't given out, but
it's definitely weak, and very painful, especially
on extended downhills.
When departing this morning I was sore afraid I'd be
unable to continue for long, but as the day
progresses, I become confident that I'll finish
these remaining miles of the Border Route. Then,
hopefully, in the days to come, I'll manage the trek
on down the Superior Hiking Trail to Two
Harbors. Many dear family members, many friends,
have been and continue to pray for me. The result: I
am the grateful benefactor of the ever enveloping
mercy the good Lord has seen fit to bestow. Yes, I
will finish this long journey.
Finally, through the brush, and as I look ahead,
instead of just another hill to climb, I see the
van--Gordon is waiting where the Border Route Trail
ends. It has been a very long, tiring day, but I
have managed--dear Lord, I have made it.
|
"I do not think there is any other quality so
essential to success of any kind as the quality of
perseverance. It overcomes almost everything, even
nature." [John D. Rockefeller]
|
Saturday--September 26, 2009
Trail Day--176
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Grand Portage State Forest, Arrowhead
Trail Trailhead, Superior Hiking Trail
I managed the night very well, sleeping comfortably,
soundly. The little space I've carved out in the
back of Gordon's van isn't much, but it's my home
away from home, and I am certainly grateful to
Gordon for it.
I figured I'd be stoved up this morning, all
my forward motion in total mechanical mode. But
surprise, in just moments I'm hiking along quite
effortlessly. I've really cranked my coated aspirin
intake, upwards of 3,000 mg/day. I've bumped up my
Osteo Bi-flex a notch, and I've wrapped my left knee
as tight as I can stand--all's working in my favor.
Having just completed the Border Route
Trail, the Superior Hiking Trail situated right next
stands in total contrast. A few miles into it now,
have I found it to be well marked, totally brushed
back, manicured, and virtually absent of blowdowns. What
a blessing being able to see where my feet are
going, to be moving without having to struggle and
fight my way, nearly every step of the way.
At eight miles the trail crosses Jackson
Lake Road where Gordon is waiting. He welcomes me
with expectation--"You made it; you doing all
right?" his hesitant greeting. And I am doing quite
well. My knee hasn't folded, even on the abrupt
climbs and steep downhills, and I am managing the
pain considerably better than expected. Fall
foliage, Ma Nature's grand show, isn't in full swing
yet, but the orange of the maples and the bright
yellows of the birch are beginning to splash across
the hills--and I can stand and gape, and marvel,
above the pain.
The early afternoon hike, on over to
Arrowhead Trail Trailhead takes me up and over a
special place called "Hellacious Overlook." Near
there I stop to chat with a group of day hikers as
they enjoy lunch. Lots of great questions; I can't
shut up--a fun time.
By two I've finished my hike for the day. I
could continue on, as my knee is doing fine for the
miles. But heeding Doc Tim's advice, easy as she
goes! So, seems strange, but at Arrowhead Trail
Trailhead I pull up and call it a day.
With the afternoon to our liking, Gordon
loads us and we head down to Grand Marais, to do a
little grocery shopping, and to have a good cooked
meal.
After the hike today, I'm confident I'll
finish this very long journey, probably reaching Two
Harbors around the seventh of next month--or
so. Thank you, Lord, thank you!
|
"If one advances confidently in the direction of his
dreams,
and endeavors to live the life which he has
imagined,
he will meet with a success unexpected in common
hours."
[Thoreau]
|
Sunday--September 27, 2009
Trail Day--177
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Grand Portage State Forest, Lakeshore
Walk/Lake Superior, SR61, Superior Hiking Trail
A cool night, but not cold. There's not been a hard
freeze yet, the ferns still green.
The morning dawns gray, the day uninviting. I dope
up on aspirin, pop an extra Osteo Bi-flex, wrap my
knee as tight as I can, and I head out to give it
another go.
This Superior Trail is not at all a difficult
hike. Some ups and downs, a few rocks and roots, but
mostly it's wide open tread, much of it covered in
grass. This makes for making good progress, and this
morning I do, right at three-per for the first seven
miles or so.
It's quite remarkable how my knee continues to
improve. I've near full range of motion now, and I
can feel the strength returning. Hiking on level
ground and climbing the uphills, no problem. It's
the downhills that are still slowing me down, but
I'm handling them with much less pain now. It is a
miracle. Thanks, dear folks, for your prayers, for
your continued encouragement!
Each day now brings more fall color. If the sun
would only come to stay the least while, the
hillsides would be brilliant. But alas, the clouds
of gloom have once again found me, and by
nine-thirty I hear the distant thunder. Soon comes
the rain, steady, and by looks of it, it's here to
stay.
On reaching Camp 20 Road trailhead I hear
voices. It's Gordon and two hikers, Maureen and
Mick, mother and daughter, out on the SHT for a few
days. Since returning to Minnesota, to the
Arrowhead, it's really been difficult trying to
explain my hike, as most folks on the SHT are
unaware that it's shared by the NCT. Anyway, I try
to explain.
The thunder is directly overhead now, the rain
passing through in waves. Wet tread is more familiar
tread, slick roots, slick rocks, and mud--and my
feet are soaked--more like it! Been hiking for two
days now with dry feet. What is that!
At Devil's Kettle, Judge Magney SP, I meet John, a
photographer from "The Cities." He asks if he might
get a few shots of me. "I like photographing people,
especially interesting people." says John. Guess I'm
interesting. He takes a bunch of pictures!
A short distance on down the trail, and before the
road, Gordon is waiting. For the last long while,
I've insisted he get out of the van and walk instead
of simply sitting around waiting for me to show
up. He has, and he's doing better, getting stronger
every day--hasn't needed his walker once this
trip. Yes, Gordon's knees are doing a whole lot
better--too!
Down from the hills above, the SHT crosses busy SR61
to follow the beach for a mile or so. As I churn
along, through the gazillion pebbles lining the
shore, I stop, bend down, and pick one up. Then to
hold it in my hand and marvel--and finally tuck it
in my pocket for a souvenir. Day's end come at the
end of the lake walk, again by busy SR61. Here we
find a two-track that leads down to the beach where
we're able to maneuver the van. The rain has passed
for a short while, so I'm able to set camp, prepare
supper, and get an evening fire going. John and Bill
come by, local fellows out hiking the beach. They
accept our invite for coffee, and we share an
enjoyable evening.
|
For look! Within my hollow hand,
While round the earth careens,
I hold a single grain of sand
And wonder what it means.
[Robert W. Service]
|
Monday--September 28, 2009
Trail Day--178
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Superior National Forest, Gunflint
Trail above Grand Marais, Superior Hiking Trail
The rain came back in again just as we were
finishing supper last; had to hurry to get
everything secured. The breakers on the beach lulled
us the night, in between numerous showers, which
rattled the roof of the van.
The morning dawns dark and dreary, total overcast,
and the wind, which had been forecast has arrived,
leading a cold front--and the cold front has also
arrived.
Everything I need is in my bin--in the van. Rain
pants, down vest and rain jacket, mittens and
over-mitts. First time I've needed them since last
spring. A blessing, that I haven't had to lug them
in my pack all this time, yet here they are when
needed. Yes, hiker support is a beautiful thing!
I'm finally out a little before eight, to dodge the
dump trucks as I cross busy SR61. Lots of ups and
downs today. First climb, easy and steady, is up to
the ridge above Kadunce River. From Kadunce, it's an
easy sideslab over to Kimball Creek and CR14 where
Gordon is waiting. From Kimball, save a brief down
to cross Durfee Creek, I've a steady climb of over
700 feet to Wildflower Hill.
By this time the wind has worked and whipped itself
into a total rage, steady at 30, gusting to over
40. I can hear trees around being broken, being
blown down. An incredible (and scary) noise, much as
so many shotguns being discharged. There's much
deadwood and upper-tree brush starting to accumulate
along the trail. By the time I've made it down Woods
Creek to where Gordon again waits, the wind has
increased, gusting to better than 50. Just up the
road from where the van's parked, Gordon motions
toward a large pine that has blown down across the
road. A fellow trying to pass through is getting his
chainsaw out. He then spends better part of half an
hour clearing the tree from the roadway. Along the
trail, and arriving the road here, I've had to beat
my way around, over, and through upwards of 40-50
new blowdowns.
From Woods Creek over to Gunflint Trail is just shy
of seven miles. For the twelve or thirteen so far
today, my knee has done remarkably well, so I'd
like to get these additional miles in. Reluctantly,
I head back out and into the windstorm. Not a good
idea. The trail by Devil Track River is rugged, and
with all the tree-top brush cluttering the trail,
all the new blowdowns, the going is slow--and the
wind has been steadily increasing, snapping trees in
half, root-wadding and blowing them completely
down. Over the years I've sometimes stopped to
wonder how all the brush and blowdowns end up on the
trail. Now I know. Being out here in it when it's
happening is scary, very scary.
I'm greatly relieved when I finally reach Gunflint
Trail--and the security of the nice warm van. What a
day, what a day; sure depleted my courage locker!
|
"Courage is being scared to death and
saddling up anyway."
[John Wayne]
|
Tuesday--September 29, 2009
Trail Day--179
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Cascade River State Park, SR61 Superior
Hiking Trail
From the trailhead below Pincushion Mountain, (and
above Grand Marais) where we parked/camped last, we
had a penthouse view out and across Lake
Superior. With the wind whipping as it was, huge
waves were being kicked up out on the lake, with the
wind cutting into them, separating the whitecaps
completely from the waves, then lifting them into
the air. The effect created was quite spectacular.
The wind finally quit rocking the van and died down
around two. Then the rain started up again, coming
and going the remainder of the night. But we kept
warm in the van even though the temperature dropped
down in the thirties.
It takes me forever to get ready to hike this
morning. Gordon finally manages to boost me on down
the trail a little before eight.
I've a climb first thing, up to Sawtooth Bluff, for
a grand view down to Grand Marais, the harbor, and
Lake Superior. From here it's an easy hike, along a
wide, mowed snowmobile path, then well-manicured
trail. I'm faced with a ton of new blowdowns, the
remains of yesterday's windstorm. There are other
folks out enjoying the trail today, two backpackers,
the others, day hikers. Gordon is able to get in to
three different trail crossings. The last, the upper
bridge over Cascade River. I had planned to hike on
past the river, but there won't be enough daylight
to get all the way to Caribou Trail, the next road
crossing. So, at Cascade River I call it a
day. Gordon's worked a hiker trash deal for us at
Cascade Lodge where we're in for the night. Ah, and
a good thing as there's to be a hard freeze tonight.
A tiring day, but my knee did fine. It'd definitely
getting stronger. Keep on pluggin' old man; keep on
pluggin'!
|
"It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves."
[Edmund Hillary]
|
Wednesday--September 30, 2009
Trail Day--180
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Trailhead, Lutsen Ski Area, Superior
Hiking Trail
Sure good to get a hot shower, to be clean for a
change. Soft bed, nice warm room, oh yes, a great
night at Cascade Lodge, Cascade River SP.
The windstorm that roared through Monday was
intense, widespread. Here by the lodge,
fifty-year-old+ spruce trees, many two feet in
diameter, have been either broken off near their
base or have suffered having their tops completely
ripped out. Lucky no one was hurt. Even more
amazing, no buildings were damaged.
Frost is covering everything this morning. We're out
(Brrr!) and down to the lodge restaurant right when
they open at seven-thirty. High octane coffee,
energy packed pancakes, I'm stoked for the day.
Yesterday I finished right at the Cascade River
Bridge, SR61, so Gordon has to drive me less than a
quarter-mile to get me back on track.
A short climb and I'm immediately in trail-blocking
blowdowns. As I climb toward Lookout Mountain I
encounter more and more of them. I find myself off
trail more than on, trying to get around the piles
of tangle.
I've had to deal with brush and blowdown-clogged
trail many times before, but never anything as
extensive or as dramatic as what's blocking this
path before me now. The USFS folks call this sort of
event "windthrow." That term describes the situation
quite well. Seems all the big trees have been pushed
down or "thrown" completely flat. At one point along
Indian Camp Ridge where I'm climbing over a
particularly dense pile, I'm eight feet off the
ground, carefully moving from one huge tree trunk to
the next. The whole stack-up is very unstable. I
must make each move with deliberation, lest I cause
the nightmarish maze to shift, pinning me in the
process.
Over Lookout Mountain and all along Indian Camp
Ridge, the destruction is incredible. There are
literally hundreds of blowdowns across the
trail. It's going to take crews days to clear this
out; it will be a hard, tough job. God guard and
keep those dear folks whose job it will be to open
this trail again.
By the time I reach Caribou Trail, where Gordon is
waiting, the worst of the damage is behind me. At
least it appears that way. I certainly hope and pray
that's the case. I dearly want to hike this trail,
not roadwalk around it. Amazing, isn't it, this SHT
was totally clogged with blowdowns from an ice storm
that occurred only days before I arrived here last
April. And now, right as I'm in the midst of finally
hiking through, another storm causes as much or more
damage. Seems it just isn't in the cards for me to
have a cruise--which this hike should certainly be.
From Caribou Trail to Lutsen Ski Area my hike today
does turn to be a cruise, hardly any additional
storm damage. Perhaps it is behind me, perhaps.
Another relatively short-mile day, around
seventeen. Even after struggling around, climbing
over, and crawling under and through the countless
blowdowns, my knee is fine. There's little pain now;
it is getting stronger every day--what a
blessing. Tomorrow I'll have less than 100 miles
remaining to reach Two Harbors. Yes, it is a
blessing!
|
"Success is not measured by what you accomplish but
by the opposition you have encountered,
and the courage with which you have maintained the
struggle against overwhelming odds."
[Orison Swett Marden]
|
Thursday--October 1, 2009
Trail Day--181
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Trailhead, FS343, Temperance River SP,
Superior Hiking Trail
Fall is definitely here, at least according to the
night-time temperatures. Last evening we cranked the
van heater till we couldn't stand it any longer, any
hotter. That held quite well till very early this
morning. Sure glad I have my Mountain Hardwear
Phantom 32, 800 fill down bag to keep me
warm. Mountain Hardwear is and has been one of my
great sponsors.
Since the big windstorm last Monday the days have
been quite fair, very cool, but fair. Today is
shaping for more of the same--not much sun but some,
time-to-time.
I'm in a range of hills now known as the Sawtooth
Mountains, an area the least bit more rugged, sure
more climbing around. But today I've fewer blowdowns
to contend with and the tread is friendly, fewer
rocks, the trail brushed back and manicured. Gordon
gets in to meet me at a couple of crossing, lunch at
the first, hot coffee at the second.
These past number of days have been short-mileage
days in comparison, the average being, perhaps,
around sixteen. My knee is managing fine, still
weak, but stable and getting stronger each passing
day. I've cut back on my enteric coated aspirin, but
have maintained the boost to my daily regimen of
Osteo Bi-flex. The Chondroitin helps as an
anti-inflammatory and the Glucosamine
creates/accelerates joint regeneration/healing. Osteo
Bi-flex is another of my great sponsors, their
natural products such a great benefit. Without Osteo
Bi-flex, which I've been taking for years, I'm
certain I'd not be accomplishing this remarkably
challenging goal.
As the cold wind comes again, I end this day on a
fine section of trail, many rapids and falls, down
one side then back up the other along Temperance
River.
|
"The victory of success is half won when one gains the habit
of setting goals and achieving them."
[Og Mandino]
Friday--October 2, 2009
Trail Day--182
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Trailhead, Sugar Loaf Road, Finland
State Forest, Superior Hiking Trail
The cold wind kept at it throughout the night and is
still at it this morning, pushing dark, rain-filled
clouds along. A little pep talk to myself helps get
me out and going quarter-to-eight. I'm bundled up,
rain pants, down vest, jacket with hood up,
mittens. Gordon is up and manages a "Have a good
one; enjoy." but not with his usual contagious
enthusiasm.
A steep climb up from Temperance, but with steps,
great trail layout, I'm at the ridgetop with minimal
effort. More ups and downs, some tiring. More
blowdowns and brush to deal with, but not all that
problematic--I make good time through Cross River
and down to CR1, where Gordon is waiting with hot
coffee and a couple of bacon, egg, and cheese
muffins. Good energy for the hike along Two Island
River, past Alfred's Pond, and down to Sugar Loaf
Road--and trail's end for the day.
A short day, not terribly tiring, more a matter of
wearing--the wind, the dark gloom, the rain.
The harsh wind never ceased. Rather, it continued
whipping, finally working itself into a rage,
bringing cold rain--one more time.
The forecast for this night, rain and snow mix.
Crank the van, Gordon; turn up the heater!
|
"To bring one's self to a frame of mind and to the
proper energy to accomplish things that require plain
hard work continuously is the one big battle that
everyone has." [Thomas A. Buckner] |
Saturday--October 3, 2009
Trail Day--183
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Trailhead, Sonju Lake Road, Finland
State Forest, Superior Hiking Trail
Rain, rain, and more rain, plenty of it off and on
all night. Don't know if there was any snow mixed in
or not, seemed cold enough, though.
The number of days remaining to complete this
odyssey are dwindling, but the effort needed to make
myself get up and go these last few mornings
certainly isn't. Overcast, dark and dreary, the cold
rain steady, with these conditions, it takes some
serious prodding to dislodge my old bones from the
warm, dry van.
I've much climbing before me today, probably through
plenty of rocks and roots, wet rocks and roots.
Up from Sugar Loaf I've a steady climb, over 700
feet, first past Caribou River, then up to Horseshoe
Ridge. Now kick in the wet (say slick) rocks and
roots, treacherous stuff. Slow, deliberate going;
sure don't want to bust it now. More blowdowns and
brush to contend with, but nothing like the past few
days.
The rain holds steady the entire day, a very cold,
wet time of it. My feet are tired, my back and legs
are tired, my knees are tired, and I'm emotionally
exhausted from the need for constant, total
concentration.
A short spur trail leads over to Sonju Lake
Trailhead where Gordon waits. Soaked and slap wore
out, I call it a day. Only 16 miles--I gave it my
best.
|
"Nobody who ever gave his best regretted it."
[George Halas]
|
Sunday--October 4, 2009
Trail Day--184
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Trailhead, SR6, Finland State Forest,
Superior Hiking Trail
Not as cold a night; I guess the rain, which
remained steady until early morning, tempered it
some. Another dark, dreary beginning. Another
morning of prodding myself, to get up and out. Gotta
try harder, old man, you gotta try harder!
Sure whining plenty of late. Just that these
remaining days, which could be so pleasant and
enjoyable, all seem to be stacked against me--a bum
knee, rain and more rain, an incredible windstorm
that's caused damage like I've never before seen,
blowdowns and brush on what had been, just days ago,
perfectly groomed trail, slick rocks and roots from
the incessant rain--and then more rain.
Total overcast again with off and on drizzle. No
change all day until the sun tries to make a show
late afternoon, with no luck.
I get a break in the day late morning, at SR7, where
Gordon loads me to head into Finland for lunch.
The morning trek goes in the book as a rock and root
run. This afternoon's hike is totally different,
though. I couldn't figure out why the trail
backtracked east for miles, to take in an area known
as Section 13. But after hiking it through, I found
this out-of-the-way section to be very well
worthwhile. Remarkable topography, a scenic bog,
rugged bluffs, and a 360 view second to none. Yes,
Section 13, way over there, was certainly well worth
the diversion.
Not as difficult a day, not as risky. The trail
actually dried out some, and my knee made it through
okay. Four more days to Two Harbors.
|
"How to succeed? Try hard enough."
[Malcolm Forbes]
|
Monday-- October 5, 2009
Trail Day--185
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Trailhead, Penn Blvd., above Silver Bay
One of our most enjoyable campsites in a long time,
the trailhead at CR6 east of Finland. The sun made a
brief show and we got the camp chairs out, then sat
and soaked it up. As the cool of the evening came,
and after supper, we stacked up some rocks by an old
fire ring and made a heat reflector. I managed a
respectable warming fire, and when the wall of rocks
got hot, we enjoyed both the glow and the
warmth. Yes, a most relaxing and enjoyable evening.
Today will be a bit longer day than the recent
usual, around 18. Sure less than I've been hammering
the past six months, but what with my weak left knee
and the rugged trail I'll be hiking today, 18 will
be plenty.
Did I say rugged! Wow, what a day this is turning to
be. The sun comes around for a couple of hours, then
disappears, leaving a very cool breeze. But the
climbing has kept me warmed up just fine. Off come
the jacket, the vest, and the gloves. Up (and down)
goes Nimblewill, first a 700 foot dart up and over
Mt. Trudee, then a 400 foot bail-off before climbing
up and around Bear and Bean Lakes. By the time this
day is over I'll have been dealt over a half-mile of
vertical elevation change. Sure enough 'tis a "hard
work" day.
Gordon manages to get in to catch me for lunch near
Baptism River, then he hikes in to greet me at the
end of the day above Silver Bay. We then load and
head on down to Silver Bay, there, to
hiker-trash-deal a room for the night. Oh my, don't
you know--'haps we both could use a good, long
shower!
Less than 50 miles now to Two Harbors.
|
"Hard work spotlights the character of people:
some turn up their sleeves,
some turn up their noses,
and some don't turn up at all."
[Sam Ewing]
|
Tuesday--October 6, 2009
Trail Day--186
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Split Rock Lighthouse SP, Superior
Hiking Trail
A very pleasant stay in Silver Bay. I dearly needed
a bath and my hiking clothes were way overdue for a
good sudsing.
Pancakes and eggs, plus a pot of coffee at the
little mom-n-pop. We're in no hurry today, only a 15
and change to do.
The rain starts right when I start. Looks of it,
it'll be around all day.
Lots of climbing again, first, up to Fault Line
Ridge, then countless near verticals through the
rocks and roots, over to Christmas Tree Ridge. No
time at all, I'm totally soaked.
Gordon gets up to where the trail crosses near
Beaver River, then heads back down to wait for me at
Split Rock SP.
Another difficult day, what with the verticals
through the rocks and roots. I must concentrate on
each and every foot placement, lest I slip or
stumble--and bust it. I'm over-cautious now. No way
do I want to suffer a hike-halting injury this late
in the journey. Tomorrow I've less than 30 miles to
go to reach Two Harbors and the end of this odyssey.
No picture taking today. The rain and fog, the low
clouds, very little to see from the ridgetops. I'm
afraid fall colors are a wash, literally, for this
year. The incessant rain, the rapid drop in
temperature, the horrendous windstorm. All have
combined to pretty much cancel the colors.
By the time I reach Split Rock SP, I'm feeling the
early throes of hypothermia. Never so happy to see
Gordon, waiting patiently in the warm van. Takes me
forever to warm up, I'm so completely soaked and
cold.
When I hitched from Grand Marais down to Two Harbors
last May, I stayed overnight in Beaver Bay, the
little motel there. We're only six miles from Beaver
Bay now, so we head there. Brandy, the kind innkeep,
had given me a super hiker trash deal last spring,
so in I go for another try. Sure enough, Brandy's
still innkeep, and she remembers me well. Hey, we're
in! Thanks, Brandy, for your kindness and
generosity.
What a blessing having a room for the second night
in a row. No way could I have dried my stuff out in
the van. In the room, no problem.
It's still raining steady and turning cold when we
unload the van. Perhaps tomorrow will be a bit more
pleasant.
|
"I do not ask to walk smooth paths nor bear
an easy load."
[D. H. Lawrence]
|
Wednesday--October 7, 2009
Trail Day--187
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Trailhead, Castle Danger, Superior
Hiking Trail
Another very pleasant night, this one in Beaver
Bay. Decision is to leave all our stuff in the room
and come back here again tonight. This'll make three
nights in a row, in a bed, in a warm room--my reward
for 188 days on the trail.
The morning dawns cold and clear. There's a little
cafe right across. We're there to open the place at
eight. Daylight being less each day now, we're
getting started later and finishing earlier. Just as
well, as the 15-17-milers I'm getting in, they're
plenty. My knee is handling the shorter days okay,
and it is a blessing to be able to continue.
My day starts at Split Rock River. From here, the
SHT takes me on southwest, to Gooseberry Falls SP,
Mike's Rock, then over and down Wolf Rock to Castle
Danger Trailhead.
The sun managed to make a show for a short while
before being driven off by the clouds late
morning. By the time I reach Castle Danger, it's
turned cold and the rain has started again. The
trail was trying to dry out, one more time. My feet
will have to dry out, one more time. Not
complaining; I am so fortunate to be able to hike
again; I am thankful. And oh, isn't it a blessing to
be back in a warm room again tonight!
|
"God constantly watches your response to people,
problems, success, conflict, illness,
disappointment,
and even the weather!"
[Rick Warren]
|
Thursday--October 8, 2009
Trail Day--188
Trail Mile--4479
Location--Two Harbors, then on to Detroit Lakes
Well, today is the day all the dots will finally be
connected, from Lake Sakakawea SP, ND, to Crown
Point SP, NY--the North Country National Scenic
Trail, 4,479 miles, 188 days.
We're up early, in total anticipation of this day. A
cold, clear morning; it's still dark when we hit the
jiffy right next the motel. A couple cheese and egg
muffins and plenty of coffee, plus a bit of good
conversation with a couple of old chaps, locals that
get the morning klatch started, and I'm fired up for
the day.
It's a twenty minute drive back up to Castle Danger
Trailhead, but Gordon has me back and headed out on
the final ten miles of trail a little before eight.
A bit of climbing around, rock steps up and down,
and the ubiquitous roots, but these final short
miles seem a dream, like a magic carpet ride, I just
float and glide, lifted up by so much elation, joy,
and excitement. Gordon is waiting where the trail
pops out, from where I've a short four-mile roadwalk
on down to Two Harbors. He's honking the horn and
shouting with much excitement. We get a few pictures
at the trailhead. A happy moment.
No time I'm standing in the middle of the busy
intersection at SR2 and 61 in downtown Two
Harbors. Folks who have the green light wait
patiently as Gordon snaps a few more pictures. All
seem to realize that some sort of special moment is
taking place in the intersection right in front of
them. And special it is, the end of my hike down the
SHT, and this amazing trek o'er the NCT.
We then load and head for Matt's place in Detroit
Lakes, there to tidy up and put a bit of final shine
on this odyssey. Matt is the North Dakota and
Minnesota NCT Trail Coordinator, and he'll be
helping me put together a final week of hiking--to
do most of the certified trail in North Dakota. If
you recall, I ended up roadwalking around and past
almost all the trail in North Dakota earlier this
spring because of the snow and ice, the harsh
conditions at the time. Anyway, we're headed back
there to hike their trails.
We make good time, reaching Matt's by five. He, his
wife, Stacy, their children, Ruth and William, all
welcome us to their home--and we're in for the
night. Matt and Stacy have both hiked the
Appalachian National Scenic Trail. So, they know the
answer to that most oft' asked question, "Why
Go." I'll close this day with the answer.
A very memorable day, the end of another incredible
journey.
|
It's the people, the places, the pain, and the
trials.
It's the joy and the blessings that come with the miles.
It's a calling gone out to a fortunate few,
To wander the fringes of God's hazy blue.
[N. Nomad] |
October 9-16, 2009 North Dakota Roundup
Trail Day--Post-trek days
Trail Mile--4479 total miles
Location--North Country National Scenic Trail, North
Dakota Certified Trail
Friday--October 9, 2009
A fine night at Matt's and Stacy's lovely
home. Thanks, kind friends!
Matt had suggested early-on, when I told him I'd be
returning to North Dakota to hike some of his certified
trail there, he'd suggested that we hike the Sheyenne
Grasslands together. Ah, don't you just love it when a
plan comes together! Matt is up before five and gets me
up. I get Gordon up. And before six, as we sit the
kitchen table downing muffins and coffee, Stacy, Ruth,
and William are all up too. There is much
excitement. It's gonna be a super day!
We're on the road way before seven, Matt leading out on
the 90-mile drive from Detroit Lakes, Minnesota, to
Sheyenne Grasslands, North Dakota. We make good time,
reaching the eastern trailhead before nine.
We're dealt a cold, blustery day, but no way will the
joy of this hike be diminished. A final wave to Gordon
as we pass through the self-closing gate--and Matt and I
are hiking the Sheyenne Grasslands together.
What an absolute joy to be hiking with Matt. We've so
much to talk about, like the many mutual friends made
during our respective '98 Appalachian Trail
thru-hikes. Matt was a couple of weeks ahead of me the
entire time, so we never met. But from time-to-time,
both of us hiked with mutual friends made while on the
trail. Sheltowee, my dear friend for years, is
one.
Matt is interested in my take on the trail, my
experiences, my comments. He asks many questions. As we
hike along chatting, from time-to-time we stop to take
in the beauty that is the Sheyenne Grasslands--gently
rolling hills, the wind creating great flowing waves
across the grassy prairie. From the high knolls it's
possible to see for miles across the vast open plains,
quite a change from the recent terrain and the trails
I've been hiking.
In no time, it seems, we've hiked the near-thirteen
miles to CR53, where Gordon waits. Thanks Matt, for
coming such a great distance, for taking time to hike
with me. It's been a memorable day!
As Gordon shuttles Matt back to his car at the eastern
trailhead, I continue on to SR27. The sky had been
mostly clear for a short while this morning, some sun
and just the least breeze. But as I continue west,
across the wide open grasslands, the wind starts
whipping hard out of the northwest, causing me to lean
forward in order to push on. As the wind intensifies,
the day continues turning dark, even more gloomy. And
what is this I now see but scattered snowflakes! In no
time the driving wind is pushing a dense wave of snow
right at me. Visibility shuts down. I lean more, and
trudge harder.
By the time I reach the van at SR27 my face is numb, my
hands are numb, and when I try greeting Gordon, my
speech is badly slurred.
What a true blessing, the warm van. "Where are we,
Gordon?" I ask. "A few miles from Lisbon. There's a
restaurant there." his reply. We head for Lisbon!
I recognize the place right away, had a fine breakfast
here one cold Sunday morning way back in early April.
"Camp" is in the van, in the overflow parking lot
downtown. More snow. Gonna be a long, cold night.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
It turned very cold early this morning, but we both
managed to stay warm. We slept well.
Back to the cafe first thing for breakfast--pancakes,
eggs, and of course, lots of coffee. We tarry long as
the day brightens little, though it's well after eight.
More snow, and the wind is already whistling as Gordon
gets me back on trail for the final six miles through
the Sheyenne Grasslands.
The entire trail here has been graveled so bicyclists
can use it. Hiking on the gravel is no
problem. Actually, it's a great benefit in helping me
stay on course. The trail is marked with Carsonite
posts, also wooden posts. But with many (say most) of
the wooden posts knocked down I'd be having much
difficulty finding my way, save for the gravel path.
A couple miles into my day I meet Francis, a young chap
hiking the Grasslands. Gordon had taken him around
yesterday so he could hike back to his vehicle. He'd
camped in the planted pine, out of the incessant wind. I
greet him as he breaks camp. Cheerful, bright-eyed
kid--good luck, Francis.
I manage good time on through, but I've gotten very cold
from pushing into the wind. The van is a warm and
welcome escape.
Further west, the next sections of certified trail I
plan to hike here in North Dakota are by Valley City and
Lake Ashtabula. It's around a two-hour drive. By early
afternoon we're there, and I'm hiking the short section
of trail in Valley City. By four, we've driven on up to
Badhill Dam where the Lake Ashtabula southernmost
section of certified trail begins. From the dam the
trail follows along the shore, up to Katie Olsen's
Landing.
I complete the six miles by six. Gordon loads me and we
head for Sibley. Cindy, at the Sibley Motel, cuts us a
great hiker trash deal for two nights. A fine mom-n-pop
cafe, Skipper's, is right next. Oh yes, a perfect ending
to a mighty fine day--driving wind, snow showers, and
all.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Skipper's is open Sundays, and we're right there at
eight. AYCE breakfast buffet. We load our plates. For
me, biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs. For Gordon, a
half pound of bacon, scrambled eggs. We both go
back. More biscuits and gravy for me, and Gordon loads
another half-pound of bacon. A pot of coffee apiece
washes 'er all down.
The certified trail along the shore of Lake Ashtabula is
very enjoyable hiking, for the most part. The
"enjoyable" follows the shoreline, within the narrow
strip of Corps land leased for cattle grazing, or
meanders the numerous WMAs along the lake. The "not so
enjoyable" involves scrambling through peoples back
yards. Yes, back yards--around kid's play stations,
docks pulled up from the lake for the winter, mom's
rock/flower garden, and the sundry and various odds and
ends folks tend to clutter up their back yards with. The
final bit of the hike yesterday, into Katie Olsen's
Landing, passed through a bunch of back yards, not the
most comfortable place to be hiking--a goofy
situation. That's the only way I know to describe it,
goofy!
This morning I hike north, out of Sibley--into steady
snow showers. More homes and cabins along the lake, more
back yards. I stay on the street out front, away from
the back yards!
North of the little village, and past a rock quarry and
a couple of penthouse-class deer stands, I pick up the
mowed and well-marked trail, to hike it on up, under the
railroad trestle, then on to Thompson/Hannaford
Bridge--in the snow showers. A delightful section of
trail.
Gordon then drives me back to Katie Olsen's Landing,
where I continue north again. Right off, I've another
lakeshore subdivision to deal with. Thankfully, for this
one the trail's been routed from the lake to the
subdivision road. At the north end, past the
subdivision, I again pick up mowed and well-marked
trail, to hike it through Katie Olsen, Badhill Creek,
and Wieland WMAs, all the way to West Ashtabula
Crossing, where Gordon waits, and where I call it a day.
It's back to our room at Sibley, then over once more to
Skipper's for supper. Still snowing, off and on.
Only a six-mile section remains now, from West Ashtabula
Crossing to Sibley, to complete the certified trail I
intend to hike by the west shore of Lake Ashtabula.
Monday, October 12, 2009
It apparently continued snowing throughout the night, as
everything is white this morning. No matter, I'm pack up
and hiking, right from our room, out and across SR26,
then south.
More homes and cabins along the lake. First one is just
south of the trailhead. Here, a not-so-friendly dog
guards its owner's back yard. The mutt is chained, but
way less than enough to keep it from the trail. Not
being keen on beating off a dog in its own back yard, or
worse, beating off its owner, I wisely decide to detour
around--for another roadwalk (Don't I recall already
doing this roadwalk earlier this year!).
Past the homes, I cut back to the lake, to resume my
hike along certified trail. I follow it for a short
distance before climbing from the narrow valley to the
rim above. From here I'm rewarded a delightful view,
180, both up and down the lake. The snow continues in
flurries, creating a gloomy haze across the
lake. Wind-powered turbines stand the high ground all
around. Strange to see them all idle. A quiet, peaceful,
yet eerie calm.
Gordon gets in to check on me at the Old Hwy 26 WMA, and
he's there waiting once more at West Ashtabula
Crossing. I'm in by ten. This completes my trek up Lake
Ashtabula.
From here we head on west, to the canals, New Rockford
and McClusky, and the Lonetree WMA, to hike what I can
of those sections of certified trail.
By two, I'm headed west from CR1 along the New Rockford
Canal. Late evening I reach US52 south of Harvey.
It's growing dark and turning cold, and the snow is
still present in flurries. Enough for today. It's off to
Harvey for a hot meal and a warm room.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
We had supper at the cafe in the bowling alley in
Harvey. Managed a room right next in the mom-n-pop
motel. Not such a good deal. Pheasant hunting season up
here now, a really big deal for this area of North
Dakota. Hunters have bought up the motel rooms here-abouts,
and they pay full price. We got the last room. Hunters
and dogs everywhere. Slamming, banging racket, clear
past midnight.
More slamming, banging racket, first light this
morning. By seven they're all out of here. We're up,
been awake, now we're up. Back over to the bowling alley
cafe for breakfast.
A cold but clear morning. We actually see the sunrise
for a change.
Plans for today are to hike as much of the Lonetree WMA
certified trail as possible. There's some 30+ miles, so
don't expect to get it all hiked out, but want to do as
much as I can.
Matt had urged me to hike Lonetree. Quality, certified
trail he told me. Sure enough, it is. The trail here
stays pretty close to the Sheyenne River, the narrow
valley. I'm definitely in the high plains prairie now,
wide-open spaces, sky big and wide. A special place for
sure. And the NCT takes me right to it.
Some clouds by ten, but by noon they're cleared out. The
day remains cold, but with the warm sun and no wind for
a change, it's a delightful hiking day.
Ducks, ducks, and more duck, on Sheyenne Lake. The trail
leads to the rim of the little valley, now the shore of
Sheyenne Lake. Many great photo ops; I stop often just
to look, and to take more pictures. You'll enjoy these
shots--and a short video--when they're up.
Roads out here pretty much follow the section
lines. Some are all-weather, others just two-tracks. So,
the trail ends up crossing some kind of road every mile
or so. Gordon drives around from one to the next, to
where the trail crosses again. He's having a fun time of
it today too. Late afternoon the trail passes a very
nice campsite, complete with picnic table, fire ring,
and privy--and there's a gravel road right to it. Hiking
through, I give it the once-over. Then at the next road
crossing, I load my pack (and me), and we head back to
the campsite for the night.
Good old Dinty, plenty of it. I'm cold and tired. Gordon
cranks the van heater full blast. We're comfy in no
time. In my bag, on my pad--I'm gone.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Cold, very cold last night, but we managed fine in the
van.
The sky, horizon to horizon, the vast wide open, is
total overcast, neither vast nor wide open this
morning. But hey, there's no snow--yet. Short-range
forecast is for snow to come in early this afternoon,
then freezing rain and snow mix, then steady freezing
rain, all with plenty of wind. The wind has already
found us, and as Gordon gets me going down the section
line two-track (certified trail), I'm quickly aware that
I'm the tallest thing out here. No wind break to hide
behind, just me. I've a short section of the Lonetree
WMA left from yesterday. Got close, then, to making it
all the way to the McClusky Canal spillway, but not
quite. This morning, doing one more roadwalk, does an
old farmer fellow pull from his drive to the road right
behind me. He comes beside, "You lost, you're lost,
aren't you?” broad grin on his wrinkled, wind-hardened
face. I explain what I'm about out here by his "back
forty" (make that his back forty-thousand). "Well, hate
to tell ya, you're too late. Feller's already been
through here on that trail, beat you to it a year or so
ago." Another wrinkled smile. I tell him that would have
been Bart Smith. "Yup, that's the guy; you know him?"
his surprised reply. I tell him about Bart Smith and the
eleven National Scenic Trails, that Bart has now hiked
all of them, and how, someday, I plan on doing the
same. That seems to satisfy his concern--that I'm really
not lost after all--up goes his window and he's gone.
I'm disappointed in finding the final section through
the Lonetree to be grown over. All the off-road trail
yesterday had been mowed sometime during the past
year. This unmaintained section before me now could be
hiked, sure, but I've had my fill of bushwhacking this
go-'round, so I'll follow Gordon's tracks on over to the
McClusky, along the section roads and two-tracks.
The wind is whipping no-nonsense by the time I
arrive. The canal bank/service road stands above grade,
so I'm fair game for the cold, relentless, unforgiving
wind. As I head south on the canal service road the snow
begins. Gordon has gone around to meet me at a crossing
three miles down. By the time I'm there, my feet are
numb, my hands are numb, and my teeth are chattering. Gonna
be a long day, as I would like to hike this canal road
all the way down to SR200, near the little village of
McClusky.
By two I'm over half way. As I've trekked along, the
cold wind has steadily increased, the snow, plenty of
it, is now being driven sideways. And the freezing rain,
to mix with the snow, has arrived.
Concerned about the worsening weather, the likelihood
that ice will soon be accumulating on the roadways,
reluctantly (and do we realize), this day's hike is
over.
In McClusky, and at the little mom-n-pop motel, the R&H,
where we stayed during nearly identical weather
conditions earlier this spring, kindness is again
extended us by Darless, the innkeep. A trip to the cafe
across town, and we're in our room and very glad to be
out of it this night.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Two inches of snow during the night, stuck on the
vehicles and the ground. Sure doesn't slow down the bird
hunters, though. They're slamming and banging around
before five, and by six-thirty the motel parking lot is
empty, save for Gordon's van. Whoa! I definitely gotta
rethink my level of passion about this hiking
thing--appears these pheasant hunters are way more
passionate about their sport than is this old man about
his!
A little after nine, it's back across town to the cafe
for some breakfast. Hey, guess where the pheasant
hunters are!
Plan today is to move on west to the Audubon National
Wildlife Refuge, there to hike a six-mile segment of
uncertified (auto tour) trail. We'll see how those plans
shape up as the day comes on.
By one we've made it and are in the Audubon. It's still
trying to snow, but there's hardly any wind--for a
change. It's okay hiking weather, compared to what we've
been dealt recently. Gordon gets me headed up the auto
tour road. He decides to take the tour too, so he leads
ahead a couple of miles, there to wait for me as I catch
up.
Lake Audubon is actually a large bay off Lake
Sakakawea. Its purpose is to replace wildlife habitat
lost when the Garrison Dam and Reservoir were built. The
lake is named after John James Audubon, artist and
naturalist. He spent the summer of 1843 near here,
collecting and sketching wildlife of the northern
plains.
The hike around the lake's southern shore is most
enjoyable, many vantage points to view the abundant
water fowl on the lake to the north, and the vast native
prairie to the south.
By three we're back to the highway, from here to
continue west the short distance to Lake Sakakawea SP,
where we'll be staying the night. From the park visitor
center to the western end of Garrison Dam there's two
miles of certified North Country Trail. When I departed
Lake Sak last March, I was unable to hike this short bit
of trail due to deep snow at the time. I was
disappointed, as was John, the park manager. So, plans
have been made to meet John early morning, then to hike
the Lake Sak SP segment together.
Evening we enjoy a fine meal at the Little (that's the
name) Bar and Grill in Pick City. Then we're in for the
night, John's guests, at one of the park's delightful
cabins. Another night, dry, warm and snug. Thanks, John!
Friday, October 16, 2009
A quiet, enjoyable time in Cabin #2, Lake Sakakawea
SP.
The rain came and went all night, and as I peer out into
the dark gloom I see it's back again this morning. When
we crossed Garrison Dam, just a couple of miles east of
here, we entered the Mountain Time Zone, so we've an
extra hour to clear out the cabin and get ready for this
short, final day of hiking the NCT.
At the park office/visitor center, I finally get to meet
John, Park Manager, Lake Sak. We had corresponded
early-on, way back last winter while I was in the
process of collecting maps and data. Our paths didn't
cross when I began in March, so now we finally meet.
Here to greet me, also, are Keith with the Park Service,
Kevin, North Dakota Parks and Recreation Programs
Coordinator, Brian, Outdoors Reporter, Bismarck Tribune,
and Kim, Outdoor Writer, Minot Daily News.
The last two miles of certified North Country Trail lie
totally within the park, and John will hike this final,
short day with me.
We're at the trail right next the dam a little before
nine. Hey, the weather is cooperating--no rain! Kim
and Keith accompany the two of us, and we enjoy the time
on the trail together. From the dam, the trail climbs,
offering a number of grand vantages out and across Lake
Sak. John is obviously proud of his trail, as certainly
he should be--it's a most pleasant hike. Too soon,
we're back again to the visitor center. Right next the
center (and visible from John's office) is a marker, a
grand sign, marking the trail beginning/terminus. Here
it’s picture time. John and I stand together. He,
proud of what he’s accomplished these many years as park
manager. Me, proud of what I’ve accomplished these many
months on this trail.
Back in the visitor center they’ve a reception for
me--and for Gordon, complete with cake and
refreshments. It is an upbeat, fun, and happy time.
John brings out a trail register that he has guarded and
protected, that he started back when the North Country
National Scenic Trail began. I realize immediately that
this is a very special Lake Sak SP guest book, as there
are few entries. Most of the names I recognize. Most
of the folks I know. Here are a few: Ed Talone, Sue
Ellen Lockwood, Gordon Smith, March 12, 1994 – November
21, 1994; Chet Fromm, April 20, 1992 – June 8, 1995;
Andrew Skurka, April 26, 2005 (on his 7,600-mile C2C
trek). And to these names, I add mine, a most humbling
experience. Thanks John!
And so, this day, Friday, October 16th, Odyssey 2009
finally comes to an end. I’ve mixed emotions; I’m
pretty much wrung out, seems. And why? Well, on
September 2nd I reached Crown Point State Historic Site,
New York, the eastern terminus of the NCT. That day was
a time of celebration. Yet the trek was not over.
On September 4th I reached East Clarendon, Vermont, to
connect this trek with my two previous hikes o’er the
Appalachian Trail. That day was a time of celebration.
Yet the trek was not over.
On September 7th I returned to the Straits of Mackinac,
Michigan, to hike the bridge, where, on May 31st, I had
to take a ride, leaving a five-mile gap in my NCT
thru-hike. That day was a time of celebration. Yet the
trek was not over.
On September 9th I returned to Minnesota, where I set to
closing the gap between Gunflint Lake (the Border Route
Trail) and Two Harbors (The Superior Hiking Trail).
After a two-week delay, time needed to mend a badly
injured left knee, I returned a final time to
Minnesota. There, on October 8th I reached Two
Harbors--to finally connect all the dots; I had, indeed,
walked the entire distance from Lake Sakakawea State
Park, North Dakota, to Crown Point State Historic Site,
New York. That day was a time of celebration. Yet the
trek was not over.
On October 9th I returned to North Dakota, where, for
the next seven days I hiked the lion’s share of
certified trail there, trail I’d bypassed (roadwalked
around) in March and April due to impossible-to-hike
trail conditions. Trails hiked were: Sheyenne National
Grasslands (all of), Valley City, Lake Ashtabula (all
of), New Rockford and McClusky Canals (parts of),
Lonetree WMA (all of), and Lake Sakakawea SP (all of).
And so, this day, October 16th, is the final day of
celebration. I have thru-hiked the North Country
National Scenic Trail. I did the best I could under the
circumstances. It was such a very long journey. I had
to deal with constant long-mile days, day after day,
with no rest. It wore on me, and wore me down.
Faithful followers who’ve kept up through my journal
entries have told me that the final days, those entries,
lacked the underlying joy and enthusiasm usually present
in my writings. Certainly, it is true, and for that,
for letting y’all down, I’m sorry.
Finally, and though I like to shoot off my mouth about
this year’s accomplishments--at age 70, I am ever so
thankful to God for such great health, for the stamina,
for the determination, for the passion burning deep down
within me, the passion to endure. Yes, thank you, Lord,
thank you my faithful sponsors, thank you my dear family
and friends, thank you for your support, your
encouragement, your prayers.
“Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because
when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of
life that God has promised to those who love him.”
[James 1:12] |
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