Books & coffee & Mexican & phone calls and other magical things.

Happy Zero Day!

It is. I am enjoying sitting.

I mailed myself a copy of Farewell to Arms to this fair hamlet (Pearisburg, Virginia, mile 625.9), which I picked up at a library book sale in Erwin, TN for the bargain price of FREE. Apparently no one wanted all those books. I did. I took Zora Neale Hurston also. I thought I had stumbled across Nerd Heaven when I wandered down to the creepy library basement and discovered a veritable vault of unwanted books. I don't usually think of those two words in conjunction. I set out without any reading material (besides the trail guide) on this trek thinking that 1) I better get used to carrying all the other stuff first and 2) I would write more without books to keep me company. I think both assumptions stood correct at the time. But since I'm starting to mail home some of the winter clothes, and I have filled my first journal/sketch pad of trailside ruminations, I am glad to have a literary companion. I had coffee this morning too. Pieces of my old life still exist in town. I surely missed reading though. I worked on a super Evangelical Christian book that some wonderful super Evangelicals gave me when we stayed at their house. I found it provocative, and I was glad as always to broaden my own worldview though I didn't agree with most of the material. I wrote in the margins, as I am wont to do with heavier reading, and sent it home for the Religion section of my bookshelf. Or, well, where it might be if it weren't full already. I was so glad for the thoughts though.

Religion and religious conversation have popped up several times throughout this journey, which has both surprised and delighted me. It has always been one of my favorite topics of exploration. A few have firm roots in one religion, mostly Christianity. But most of those who seem open to discussion believe in the wealth of experience and a search for meaning in life that transcends definite answers. Some are content to shrug; some search actively; some explore many religions hoping to find a good fit; some search many religions with the understanding that they share a commonality of reaching toward the unreachable. It seems, though, that most of us have chosen the Trail as religion, at least for now. I can see why. In so many ways this journey mirrors the continual quest for personal growth and larger connectivity present in major religiosity. If I have been asked, I freely give a brief history of my own rambling religious background. I usually conclude with, I'll be on that great quest for the rest of my life. But then again, I'm one for the journey not the destination, which is why I'm out here in the first place. And surely I have found an abundance of soul food, and the community to go along with it.

As a segue to take us at least halfway back down to earth...
I was trying to look up the peak for the Eta Aquarids meteor shower, but am having some troubles. It could be peaking tonight, or tomorrow, or the next day. But, considering the upcoming weather reports, all we'll be seeing is the inside of more rain clouds. (Wohh wohhhhh). Luckily, the Perseids shower is even better and that's not until August. By August we'll be probably in New Hampshire, where the sky, completely devoid of light pollution, should have me looking up so much I'll be sleeping off the neck cramps. I look forward to it.

And bringing it back to the ground...

Things are turning green...it's so exciting. We had an overlook yesterday called Angel's Rest outside of Pearisburg, and, for the first time, the hills looked full of life. It's encouraging. I took a picture of a White Trillium in bloom yesterday. Yay.

I think I won't have a chance at a computer for a while, so stay well until I can check mail and things again, lovies.
Thank you's to Chelle for all my post cards, and Mary for the card, and Mom for all the love that I know has been going into those cookies.
Really. You all just drop these things in the mail, but it really makes my day.

Peace, much love, and happy trails.
<3>

Rabbit Rabbit

Happy May!
In honor of the month change (and weather change!? please?) I shall share a family-fun joke cherished by botanists and Massachusettsians alike:

April showers bring May flowers. What do May flowers bring?

(wait for it)

...Pilgrims!

::tee hee hee hee::


Oh, hi!
We're in the exciting town of Bland, Virginia (tee hee again), having hiked 583 miles. I cannot believe we are going to hit 600 tomorrow. It seems so surreal to have traveled so far on foot. My legs and feet believe it, though. My diet changes do as well. We talk about this constantly-- the prospective readjustment to real life, i.e., "What do you mean I can't have Snickers bars for breakfast?" or "Wait... 'Little Debbie's' isn't supposed to be its own daily meal?" It's fine. Let it happen.

News keeps flooding in from home: engagements, new relationships, etc. I feel so removed sometimes, and I have started to really cherish the voicemails and phone calls. I miss the voices of my loved ones, and their (your!) embraces, especially. The thru-hiker's life is on many days bountiful and on others a balance teetering on deprivation. I'd have to say I definitely don't get enough hugs out here.

The terrain in Virginia has seemed friendly so far. We climbed some mountains (the largest in VA, Mount Rogers, we climbed but didn't summit...lame, AT routers) but have been walking along a ridge for much of the time as well. It's always welcome. Things are finally starting to bloom, especially at low elevations, and the flowers and burgeoning plant life have placed many smiles on my face. The other day we walked through some farm land and then through some fields and meadows. Flowering trees scented the air; colors dotted the fields. I picked up a dandelion and put it behind my ear. I spent most of that day walking with my friend Hermes, who paused under a cherry blossom, leaning up on his tip toes to smell a flower. It made me smile. We agreed afterwards that it had been one of our favorite days on the trail thus far. Pat/Saint, Wags, Gangsta and I saw a Black Rat Snake yesterday. At 4 1/2 feet long, it was by far the largest snake I have ever seen in the wild, and I was very glad I didn't come upon it first. Gangsta, my wildlife buddy, started provoking it with her trekking pole and I got a great photo of it all curled up staring at the pole tip. Our friend Dutch is carrying a plastic basketball hoop and the boys strung it up and were playing basketball in a shelter the other night. It was entertaining. We also finally heard the Whippoorwill that G has been telling us about, so I can identify that call now too, bringing the grand total to 5 (well, 5 1/2, I'm still working on the Wood Thrush). We had a great laugh because she's been imitating the call for us for weeks and we never heard it, so my brother started to make fun of her for creating a fake bird. We finally heard it, but then it it didn't shut up all night next to our tents so everyone was all Whippoorwilled-out. There are many moments like this; we hold on to beautiful pieces, to stories, to jokes and games, to conversation and memory, and, then, we walk.

Our pack, known by some on the trail as "The Crew," but self-titled "The Goonies" (as a rejection of "The Brady Bunch" --we are far too inappropriate for such a moniker anyways), will be dissipating over the next few days. Gangsta's dad and husband are coming for visits on separate days this week. Hermes is going to meet his brother in Pearisburg. Rusticus had a package in Bastian and went there instead of Bland so we lost him yesterday. Wags is trying to catch the Pack of Divas. We have all been hiking together since the first week, and it will dramatically change the face of my travels not to have these people around the campfire at night. We hope to reassemble over the next few weeks, but that may prove difficult. We shall see.

The rain returned, naturally, and should continue on and off for the next four days at least. But! There is one important change from the beginning of this trek: temperature. I no longer have to worry about hypothermia when I get wet, which is lovely. Yesterday it rained but I hiked in my shorts and tshirt anyways. The night before it rained but the camping wasn't so miserable with the warmth there to accompany the sogginess. It does make you smell like wet dog at the end of the day though. Gross. Not to worry; I have since showered and am ready for another round of getwetstaywetandsmellterrible. Just laugh...I do. Anyone still up for one of those hugs?

Pat and I will be in Pearisburg probably Monday afternoon for a much-needed zero day on Tuesday. We pulled almost 20 every day this week. And something weird is going on with my heel that involved self-surgery. Gross again. But I jsut had my mom ship me my lighter boots now that we're hopefully out of snow season. I laced them up this morning and they feel like sneakers in comparison to the Vibram soles. So I might be flying.

But I miss you, dearests, and, as always, you are in my thoughts every day. All my love. Happy Trails.

<3 Bee/WindUp

Wags and G demo, it rains all the time:


And the Black Rat Snake interaction:

The Time Thing

I forgot, in my hurried, time-limited internet access musing, yesterday, to state what may or may not be obvious at this time: we have made it into Virginia by April 23rd. I wanted to tentatively revamp the tentative schedule... making the projected dates evermore inaccurate. But I don't know, time seems so relative out here anyways. I cannot believe we have been out here for 6 weeks already. Simultaneously, though, I miss my friends and coffee and music and books, and/or sitting with all four together in one (relatively confined) space in a way that feels like years have passed. Like I said yesterday, the Trail is funny like that. As I sit here, I relish the opportunities to drink coffee and sit in the sun, and shower, and eat food that I chose for taste rather than shelf-life and weight. But I also feel the itch to walk. Today feels like summer, and the lazy nature of the Zero Day reminds me of sitting out on a bench in Brookline, reading and people-watching. My brother is napping inside the hostel ('The Place' in Damascus). My friend Wags is sitting on the porch reading in an Adirondack chair. Yesterday I sat under a tree and listened to a trail friend who is carrying a fiddle on her pack. I didn't realize how much I missed grass until I sat down in it and ran my fingers over the blades. Nor did I realize how much I missed walking around barefoot until we camped on a bald a few nights ago. We all marvel at how little it takes to bring smiles to our faces. A piece of fruit? ::grin:: Potable water? ::grin:: A familiar song playing overhead in the grocery store? ::mega grin:: Drunk dials from the CC passing the phone around in a circle while they're all together at home? ::raucous laughter:: But though we have given up much, we are gaining much also, of course.

So, for:
the Virginia quarter, incl. Shenandoah National Park:
Damascus, VA: April 23-25
Troutdale, VA: April 29ish
Pearisburg, VA: May 7-8ish
Glasgow, VA: May 17ish

p.s. those were all guesses.

And tomorrow morning, we shall plunge back into the Virginia woods, and remain there for a long, long time. May they be sunny. And rolling.
Peace, friends.

Barefoot on the bald, a.k.a. yay, grass!

Entering: The Virginia Quarter

Salutations, friends and lovers.

Today finds us at a public library computer in Damascus, Virginia.
Vital stats: 463 miles hiked, 2 more days of snow (but only dustings :)), 3 deer, 3 bears, many friends, and one amazing discovery that Pop Tarts makes a Hot Fudge Sundae variety. I can identify 4 different bird calls thanks to my friend Gangsta (former UGA wildlife major with an M.S. from the Forestry school), and I am currently winning the Worst (Best?) Trekking Pole Strap Tan Line contest. Boo ya. Stats on my mind: off the charts. As I have said, the internal ups & downs mirror the external ones.

Pat (trail name: Saint) and I are still traveling in our pack of 5 (Wags, Gangsta, Hermes), plus we picked up Rusticus. I heard a rumor that we're being called The Brady Bunch, due to our well-balanced gender mix and numbers. This news led to 4 days of my having the Brady Bunch theme song stuck in my head. I really miss real music. I did play guitar for about half an hour, at an amazing Hostel in Hot Springs that featured a music room. Did I write about that already? Meh. I was extraordinarily rusty though, and couldn't remember some of the chords to the songs I wanted to play. It was depressing. But also glorious.

On clear nights where we camp away from shelters, we build a fire and sit around it well into the hiker night (i.e. until 10pm). We have taken to a question-answer session that circles around the fire as each person responds. The depth and honesty with which everyone speaks has made these some of my favorite times on the trail. We have bonded so quickly out here.

I have spent entire days walking with one member of our party, talking. I have also spent entire days by myself, in thought. I find that the balance between the two takes my mind out to wander, and then back to converse. I spent days talking to Gangsta about religion and love, talking to Wags about futures, talking to Hermes about philosophy and religion and their intersection. And then, there are the other times when we're all together and we revert to a pre-adolescent humor because so much of our time is spent concerning ourself with our own bodies. The trail is funny like that.

It's gorgeous today, and I'm glad for the rest.

I hope you are all well.

Lots of love!
<3 Bee/WindUp

Music room at Elmer's, Hot Springs, NC:

Apocalyptica Continues

Hi loves. This one is to be short and sweet, for it is lunch time, and I and my friends are currently starring in the Real-Life version of the Hungry Hungry Hippos board game.

It may seem unusual that I have so soon again been graced with internet usage. Let me explain how this came about. We covered the last 37 miles in two long, long days. Why the push to insanity? Well friends, the truth of the matter is that getting caught in a snow storm picks up your pace VERY quickly. It snowed 7-10 inches in the mountains of North Carolina. We all traded near-death experiences after coming over Max Patch. I don't have the opportunity to paint the full picture right now, but suffice it to say that it was the first time I have been really scared on the trail. Picture: horror stories on Everest, insert wind, zero visibility, lost footprints, no trail, etc etc etc. That night thirteen of us piled on top of each other in a shelter and woke up covered in snow. We hiked in a giant expedition-like pack the next day, trying to find the white blazes.

But, like so many previous times already on this trip, it all turned out alright. So, here we are in Hot Springs, NC, having hiked 271 miles. I had a latte for the first time in a month, and spent an hour talking to Sunny, Iron Horse Cafe proprietress and AT alumnus ('02). Wonderful person. And, of course, now that we're all safe in town, the sun has come out. Ha.

I hope you are all so well! Lots of love.
<3 Bee/WindUp p.s. my sincerest apologies to Bernie, who I called 'Barry' in my last post. Thank you, thank you, thank you again to you and Beth for your generosity and well-wishes! p.p.s. And thanks to Steve and Chelle for my postcard :)

Photo: Stringing up rainflies to keep the snow from blowing into the shelter...FAIL. We woke up covered in snow from the knees down, and I had to run laps back and forth from the privy to get my legs working again.





Photo: Everyone likes to play in the snow... for an hour. Have you ever stayed out in it for 2 1/2 days? Not as much fun. Still very pretty, though.

Greetings from Gatlinburg!

Friends!

So much has happened since we left that it overwhelms me to even consider how to process it all. I will start with the logistics, I suppose. Today marks the 20th day of this fantastic voyage. We have covered 204.7 miles of the AT, and are currently situated in the rather odd Vegas-meets-Disneyworld-meets-honkytonk town of Gatlinburg, Tennessee. In the hiking world, we have traveled over half of the way through Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

The wealth of each day spent on the trail makes it nearly impossible to give any sort of play-by-play. I feel like I'm trapped inside Joyce's Ulysses...if I try to match words to all the thoughts and experiences and emotions of a day, I will end up creating an 800-page novel that might contain some fantastic insight, but would mostly just make for an exasperating read. I shall spare you.

The trail, like my mood and the condition of my body along it, has seen many peaks and many valleys. The unseasonably challenging (read: practically Apocalyptic) weather has forced everyone to weigh his or her motives early on. Our "zero day" in town today, for example, came as a result of T-storm and tornado warnings covering most of the Smokies. We have seen light snow, winds that have uprooted trees (and strewn my socks about a shelter site), and nights as low as 25F. I had little sleep the first ten nights, instead spending them shivering in my sleeping bag. It has rained for part or all of eight of the last nine days.

But moods change like weather out here. I have discovered what a Child of the Sun I am, and what a difference being clean and dry makes. One spectacular mountain view and one sunset have acted as Reset buttons. Just yesterday, the pendulum swung so dramatically. We summited Clingman's Dome, which, at 6,643 feet, marks the trail's highest point. Deprived of any view (again), due to freezing rain and wind (again), we slugged tired legs over slippery rocks and through four inches of mud (again). Yet, eight miles later, when we descended to Newfound Gap, the trailhead at the NC/TN border, three groups of 'Trail Angels' greeted us. I was handed a Fudge Round and some trail mix (thank you Clumsy!), and a Budweiser (thank you Red Dog!). A Florida couple on vacation celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary, Beth and Barry, volunteered to give six of us a ride down the winding path thirteen miles out of the mountains to Gatlinburg. We laughed in the truck bed, with warm, low-altitude air whipping back our hair. We debated about how much money to offer them for their help. They graciously drove us to a motel, and, far from accepting our donation, demanded that we all take $20 bills. When we refused, Beth tossed them into the bed of the truck, saying that they dreamt of hiking the AT, and relished the opportunity to help us fulfill our own dreams. Their generosity, and the generosity of the others at Newfound Gap, had us all feeling unbelievably high. The morale swing from cold, cloudy Clingman's Dome to Barry and Beth's pickup truck could not have been larger. Yesterday represents only one example of the enormous range of emotions that we encounter almost daily on the trail. I think that when we have finished this, years will pass before I can completely understand the multitudes contained in this period.

We have met so many wonderful people on this expedition. Hikers form instant families, with only a pack and a plethora of miles as the ties that bind us. So many have set out on this pilgrimage-- I have already met around fifty myself. Pat and I have spent many days traveling in a group of five, with a Michigan native (here via Oregon) officially named 'Alias' and unofficially named 'Wags,' a Connecticut guy here from Montana, which we have deemed 'Hermes' for his impressive pace, and a Georgia Peach named 'Gangsta.' I have other friends, also, in front and behind us. These are good people and we have had innumerable laughs around campfires and late-night giggles and stories in shelters. Recurring friendly faces make a sort of traveling home where our nomadic lifestyle would otherwise lack one.

Time dangles here, and though each day teems with emotional, physical, mental and objective/temporal events, I do at times keenly feel the disconnect from my previous life. I have had (late) news of the death of a friend's father, and also the expectation of my cousin's second child. I have had thoughts of the homecoming of one best friend, and another best friend that I had hoped would be celebrating a homecoming with me. I am absolutely where I want to be, but it can be difficult to be away during such events. I have traded Facebook for sporadic radio weather reports, texts for bear sightings (yes, we saw some... yikes!) and annoying shelter mice, sushi dinners for Snickers bars, and working for walking. There are pluses and minuses to all these.

My friend Nevena/'Gansta' said on the phone last night, "Every day my resolve to get to Katahdin gets stronger and stronger." One of the gentlemen doing trail magic at Newfound Gap told us yesterday, "Never give up." A book I read before we left reminded me to never quit on a rainy day. Beth and Barry generously contributed to our opportunity to "live the dream." I have had so many smiles, but on difficult days, I think of these nuggets of wisdom, and I think of all of you. Thoughts of my friends have taken me over several 3,000-foot climbs, and many murky puddles. I am not there with you, but you're here with me. Peace and much much love, friends. Happy Trails.

<3 "WindUp"

Schedule!? I'm on my own time!

This blog is a not-so-sly reference to a work discussing Time as the temporality of Being; as an active, cumulative, ever-present constant that accompanies it. However, given that, for better or for worse, someone once decided to map out days and weeks and hours in equal segments for the sake of convenience, it makes sense that quite a few people have been asking where we expect to be and when. So friends! In short, I am not sure. I have outlined a sort of tentative schedule, but so many factors will determine our pace that it seems silly to even pretend that I can guess where we'll find ourselves in a month's time. Included among these factors are weather, injury, illness, general lollygagging including but not limited to: Sarah is taking too many pictures, Sarah wants to stop and write something down every ten seconds, Pat is running low on cash and has started a poker game with some poor unsuspecting and soon-to-be-broke hikers, etc. etc. etc. I could be back on my couch in a month for all I know, ha. So, I will present the Possible First Half (question mark), according to a conservative estimate. By 'conservative estimate' I mean that I tried to guess acccording to a slow-to-normal pace. So, particularly in the later Virginian parts of this, we may be [quote] ahead of schedule [unquote]. So, if you're planning on sending something/meeting us, the best option would be to call my phone and leave a message. Bear in mind (Bears...oh my.) that I won't be able to check messages until I actually can call my voicemail in a town, so shoot for way early, please, thank you. Now then.

We are starting in Blue Ridge, Georgia, at Springer Mountain. My good friend and general All-star of Life, the lovely and talented Miss Homer, has agreed to house us and transport us to the mountain, which is approximately 2 hours from Atlanta. I am eternally grateful. And after that we'll just be...you know...walking. Northward. Here are my guesstimations:

Georgia to North Carolina
Springer Mountain: March 15. RIP Caesar. Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad.
Franklin, NC: March 25ish
Fontana Dam, NC: March 28ish
Great Smoky Mountains & NC/TN Border
Gatlinburg, TN: April 2-3ish
Hot Springs, NC: April 9ish
Erwin, TN: April 15ish
the Virginia quarter, incl. Shenandoah National Park
Damascus, VA: April 25-27ish
Troutdale, VA: May 1ish
Pearisburg, VA: May 10-11ish
Glasgow, VA: May 25ish
Waynesboro, VA: June 1-2ish
[bit of a stretch w/ no P.O. stops, though we'll be by Front Royal, VA in here]
The Unoffical Halfway Point and A.T. Conservancy headquarters
Harpers Ferry, WV: June 15-17ish

And thus concludes the psychological first half. Although, due to constant re-routing and lengthening and battles with landowners and conservation efforts, etc., the actual halfway point is about 3 miles south of Rt.233 in Pennsylvania. But you celebrate in West Virginia I guess. Meh.

Alright, I won't go beyond that- I'm too superstitious.

I hope you are healthy and well, dears.
Also thank you thank you thank you to my beautiful friends for the dinners and drinks and goodies. Undying love showerings to: Teenie, MK, James, Dan, Moon, Janine, Alysha, and K. Rems. And Mom and Dad. Thank you for my extra 7 unplanned pounds to carry... not in my pack. Hahaha. But more importantly, thank you for the conversation and the connection. It means a lot to me. You all are my heart.


2 days until departure for Atlanta. Apparently it's going to rain all next week. Oh well... welcome aboard, I guess.
I have been spending inordinate amounts of time with my guitar, which I will miss dearly. And though I always spend inordinate amounts of time with my books, I have been doing that too.

And I am so nervous that I am finding it difficult to swallow.