Gear failure! I hiked in the rain for an hour and discovered my umbrella has a hole in it, which makes it periodically dump water down the back of my shirt.
Welcome!
I am an artist who hikes. A hiker who arts. A traveller who revels in the journey without undue devotion to the destination. I hike to be somewhere, not to get somewhere. Thanks for joining me on this journey.
Expect reflections on long distance hiking, art-making on trail and off, hiking culture, nature and my undying love for backrests.
All in long distance hiking
Gear failure! I hiked in the rain for an hour and discovered my umbrella has a hole in it, which makes it periodically dump water down the back of my shirt.
It was a yellow blazing kind of day. And now I’m into yellow blazing.
I heard the hootin’ and hollerin’, presumably from people jumping in the river, but nothing could prepare me for the circus that surrounded said hollerin’. At least there was an ice cream sandwich to be found after wading through Tubing Ville.
I found the Holy Grail of bear bagging rocks. And I packed it out. I intentionally put a rock in my pack before hiking out.
So far, the Benton MacKaye Trail has been well-marked; well-maintained with only a handful of overgrown sections and zero blow downs. But it’s only Day 2 and anything can happen.
Two weeks ago, I asked Ralph what he thought and me taking a “little 300 mile walk,” and he said, “I think you should hike while you can....Also, it makes you happy.”
So here I am. On the Benton MacKaye Trail. It makes me happy.
I’ve got an itch that won’t be scratched by day hiking. So I’ve made a plan to safely hike a long trail in pandemic times.
“Quitting is fundamentally different from stopping. The latter happens all the time. Quitting happens once. Quitting means not starting again--and art is all about starting again.” ~David Bayles & Ted Orland, Art and Fear
They may have been talking about quitting art, but the sentiment is the same for long distance hiking.
Note to Self (And Other Middle Aged Long Distance Hiker Aspirants):
Never, EVER, underestimate the power of the trail to humble you. And maybe hurt you a little. Or a lot.
Also:
Your body is not fucking kidding when it says, "STOP."
They try to put hikers in scrubs at the Top of Georgia Hostel. No thank you. Scrubs as loaner clothes is not exactly a selling point, IMHO.
Glorious day today with only a rattlesnake for company. No hikers on the trail. Which means I may have finally escaped the churlish boy scouts. Yay!
I’m not hiking that far every day, so I don’t know how the days go by so fast) and the blog goes so neglected). Tonight I’m at mile 54. Snail’s pace. Which I love. Here are some highlights.