The End of the Beginning Approaches (Day 70) (Miles Hiked 775)

From right to left that is Hardback, Torch, Mousebait, and the guy on the end who looks a bit like a Chia Pet is me. Two months ago, each of us started hiking the Appalachian Trail alone, but within a couple weeks we had formed a pretty tight group. For the past 600 miles, we've rarely spent a full day apart.

There's nothing I'd like more than to walk with them all the way to Maine, but unfortunately, real life obligations are slowly pulling some of us off the trail. We aren't going to make it. We just don't have enough time.

And so, plans have changed. Will we walk another 250 miles together and then, with about half of the Appalachian Trail completed, we’ve all decided to step off the trail. Mousebait will return home and the three remaining members of the group will get in a pick-up truck and start driving west for a few weeks. We are not exactly sure where this road trip will take us, but feel confident that it will be a fitting end to our journey.

And while this decision to leave the trail was not an easy one for me, rest assured that while my friends may be hindered by real world commitments, I am not. At the conclusion of our trip out west, I plan to return to the Appalachian Trail and finish the second half of what I started.

I’m not done with this trail yet.

I shall return.

"Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning." --Winston Churchill

Technical Difficulties (Mile 646.5) (Day 60)

There were a lot of giant bonfires, hippie drum circles, and drunken dancing at the hiker festival in Damascus, Virginia. Mistakes were made and long story short, my smart phone is gone, so it has become very difficult for me to update this blog.

Fortunately, I bought the insurance on my phone, so I'm trying to fix this problem within a week or two.

I'll write more later.

Time Off (527 miles hiked) (Day 46)

I was in pretty bad shape as I left Tennessee.

I was nearing the end of a 14 hour, 40 mile deathmarch fueled by caffeine and testosterone. I crossed the state line and as the adrenaline died down, I was suddenly aware that the blisters on my heels had become a serious problem. I woke up the next morning, looked at my feet, and realized that I wasn't going to be able to hike again for days.

I wandered off the trail and ended up at a farm owned by a Appalachian Trail legend named "Mountain Man." Mountain Man first hiked the trail 30 years ago when he was 11 and has hiked the trail many times since. He was happy to feed and house me while I recovered if I agreed to help a bit around the farm. So I spent a few days milking goats, feeding pigs, and building a shack big enough for 8 geese to live in.

After three days I was ready to hike again, but honestly, it was hard to leave behind Mountain Man and the animals. He offered to let me stay longer and I was tempted, but the trail was calling and the longer I stayed, the harder it was going to be to get moving again.

I walked on.

And while I still miss the farm, I was definitely grinning as I walked through the Grayson Highlands. I was back in my home state of Virginia, I was surrounded by rolling hills and grazing ponies, and as I played Proclaimers song on my headphones, I crossed the 500 mile mark.