Sky Pond with the Friddles

"What?!" I shout over the howling wind.
"I said, this is the most adventurous thing I've ever done!" Micah repeats as he clings to the edge of Timberline Falls, wind and rain pounding our faces.  Sarah's poncho flaps uncontrollably as she descends the precarious cliff, step by careful step.
"Awesome!"  I shout back.

Music to my ears.

I'm so happy my sister (Sarah) and brother-in-law (Micah) were able to make it out to Colorado for a few days of adventure in Rocky Mountain National Park.  It was so much fun hanging out with them.  I'm glad they were able experience a slice of the Rocky Mountains.

By the time we made it back to the trailhead, we were all soaked to the bone.  It was definitely time for a hot meal and a cold brew.

Day 165

08/12/12 - near Oberton Stream - ≈1,977.3 miles

Another tough day.  The terrain is difficult.  Wet.  Slippery.  Steep.  Thundering now.  We are both trying to stay encouraged.  Trying to enjoy this time while it lasts.  But I think we both want it to be over.  We want Katahdin.  It just started pouring.

***

Day 139

07/17/12 - Wintturi Shelter - 1,715.8 miles

Arrogant SOBOs are annoying!  Me monsters.  I!  I!  I!  We got to this shelter early on, and two SOBOs have been hanging out telling the same freakin' story to everyone passing through.  "...a glass bottle of chocolate milk!"  Annoying.  Thunderstorm might be coming now.  Early today it started raining.  Anna began a duel with Mother Nature putting on her rain jacket.  The rain would stop.  She'd take it off.  Rain would start again.  She'd put it on.  Rain would immediately stop.  Funny stuff.  Looking forward to our ZERO tomorrow!

***

Notice how I said arrogant SOBOs were annoying.  Not all SOBOs we met were obnoxious.  But most were.  haha

Day 93

06/01/12 - Quarry Gap Shelters - 1,078.7 miles

Once again, today was difficult.  Up early.  And long miles.  Hiked about 23 miles then got some good pizza 0.3 off trail.  Another 2 miles to the shelter.  In the dark.  In the rain.  Super rain.  We pretty much aqua blazed to camp.  Cold.  All my clothes I was wearing are soaked.  Now I am debating whether or not to put them back on and let them dry as we hike.  Mehh.

***

Panther Creek Falls

"and the sun, it does not cause us to grow
it is the rain that will strengthen your soul
and it will make you whole"
 - The Oh Hellos "I Have Made Mistakes"

I have been listening to their album, Through the Deep, Dark Valley, almost nonstop these past few days thanks to my sister's recommendation.  Good stuff.  Especially while driving to North Georgia on a misty Thursday morning.  I decided to make a short getaway to the Cohutta Wilderness in Georgia's Chattahoochee National Forest.

I needed to breathe that sweet mountain air.

I'm starting a new job this coming week, and though I'm very much excited about it and looking forward to having a steady schedule with free weekends... I wanted some time with the trees before diving in.

I had not been camping since the Trail.  The last time I was in a tent was in Baxter State Park, Maine, the night before climbing Mount Katahdin.  It had been too long, and my heart was racing as I prepared my gear.

Everything brought back fond memories of our time on the Appalachian Trail.

My packing routine.
The smell of my pack and rain jacket.
Lacing my boots.
The grip of my trekking poles.
The smoke of a campfire mixed with wet soil and leaves.
The pitter patter of rain against my tent.
Reading my Kindle while wearing four layers of warmth.
Bear bagging my food.
Wading across frigid water.
Purifying my water in a cold stream.
Even the pain in my legs and feet reminded me of the pain we felt on the Trail.

I hiked to a spot my father and brother and I frequently visit when camping in the Cohutta.  Panther Creek Falls.  It can be a strenuous hike but has a rewarding view once you arrive.  I camped right at the top of the falls (only about a tenth of a mile from where Anna and I camped during our only practice overnight before the thru-hike).  It rained on me almost the entire time with the exception of the last couple hours as I hiked back to my car.  Very appropriate, I believe.

The rain reminds me of what I have.  Even on a short excursion like this, I was looking forward to a hot meal and shower when I returned home.

I want more constant reminders of how good I really have it.  I think going into the woods helps put things in a bit of perspective.  That's something I could really take away from thru-hiking the AT.  When you have less, you appreciate more.

If it is always sunny, how will we grow?

Rain

I drove over to Kennesaw Mountain National Battlefield Park this morning for sunrise.  As I approached the parking lot, I could see a fiery horizon through the trees.  I parked the car, and it immediately began to rain.  First a soft and steady rain and then intensifying into a pour.

I love days like this.

However, I have a new perspective on days like this.

I remember being on the Trail with Anna and looking at the weather forecast whenever we had cell reception.  I would pull up the Weather Channel app and see the "chance of rain" and sometimes just stare at it.

It makes me laugh, a little, remembering the relentless rain and thunderstorms we endured out in the open often without any shelter nearby.  I remember waking up on some mornings to a rainstorm outside my tent.  We would check the weather if we were able to, and a lot of the time the hourly forecast showed that little thundercloud all the way down the page.  We often packed up our gear in the rain and started hiking into the cold wet.

It's definitely nice and cozy to be looking out my window as the storm goes by, but at the same time, I'm thankful for the memories of being in the storm.

"From your lofty abode you water the mountains;
the earth is satisfied with the fruit of your work."
Psalm 104:13

 

July 1, near Kent, CT

 

Not Lonely, but Alone

Ventured down to the Needles section of Canyonlands National Park.
It's a beautiful place.
More remote and less people than its neighbors (Arches and Island in the Sky).
I was there for the day and wanted a decent hike.

I set out for the Chestler Park / Joint Loop trail - 11 miles.

I started off in the rain.
Cold rain.
Both of which are rare for the desert, but I was looking forward to being in the elements a bit.

I feel something different when hiking in the rain.
The word effective comes to mind... like I'm really getting to my destination.
Working for it.
Honestly, I think I just like the sound of mud squishing beneath my feet.

A few miles in I saw a sign for Druid Arch.
Not part of my original plan, but I decided to go for it.
The trail meanders through Elephant Canyon, and being that it was constantly raining, I was basically walking up a stream.
The trail would often lead right into a pool of collected water or up a waterfall.
This was true practice for the AT and a test for whether or not my gear could withstand some serious wetness.

It was a wonderful hike.
Cold.
Wet.
But wonderful.

I finally made it through the canyon and began ascending to Druid Arch.
I was out of breath by the time I had finished scrambling up, but wow!
What a view.

Druid Arch is one of those arches that you don't actually see until it's right in front of you.
The arch itself is tall, but it also stands about 300 feet off the ground.
I found myself looking up at a magnificent arch, an easy rival for any other arch I've seen.

There was still a light drizzle (it never really stopped raining on me the entire day, other than for about 15 minutes at one point), and I could distinctly hear the sound of each raindrop colliding with the rock.

It was so quiet.

Not another sound could be heard.
I had to hold my breath just to hear the wind blowing.

I felt truly alone in this place.
Not lonely, but alone.

I had passed only one other hiker in a six mile stretch, and now, standing before this massive arch, it seemed like I was the only living soul in the wilderness.

I bit into my apple and nearly startled myself with the loudness of the juicy crunch.

It was a beautiful peacefulness, and eventually the light pit-pat of the scattered raindrops began to intensify.

It was time to head back before any serious flash floods started to form.

Total hiking distance ended up being about 13 miles.

ThunderAwakening

Photo by Anna Tucker

 

Woke up this morning to a thundering rainstorm.

I love that.  Especially on days off.

I'm not sure what I'll be doing for these days off.

I think I may camp somewhere nearby, just so I can sleep outside in another potential downpour.  It's refreshing to be outside during a rainstorm.

I'm reading a book right now called Three Hundred Zeroes: Lessons of the Heart on the Appalachian Trail.  It's another refreshing read that's getting me excited for our thru hike in a couple months.  Every day I think about it and am looking forward to probably the most challenging hike of my life.

Walking from Georgia to Maine.

I can hardly wait to begin that adventure.

A few months ago I posted this video someone had made of their thru hike.  It's one of the best I've seen, and I challenge you to try and stop watching it once you press play.

Green Tunnel from Kevin Gallagher on Vimeo.