Big Fish

A week ago I once again made the 16 ½ hour straight thru drive between Denver and Houston. I know the drive so well that I literally think I could do it in my sleep if I haven’t already. A couple of days after arriving back in the Bayou City my nephew Max flew down for a couple of nights before hopping a bus for a 3 week stint at a Texas hill country lakeside summer camp.

With a whole day to kick around I took Max on nice tour along the Gulf of Mexico. The route follows highway 288 to Surfside then the Blue Water Highway up along the coast across San Luis Pass to Galveston Island with a return via Interstate 45. It makes a nice loop and a very pleasant day. There’s nothing exotic about the drive but it’s a nice diversion from Houston.

Just before you cross over a bridge to the long flat barrier island and stilted beach community of Surfside there’s a pull off to the right. A short dusty road leads to an open parking lot with a boat dock and weathered looking bait shop building. Harley riders call it the bait camp as it’s a popular place with the biker crowd. The front side of the building doesn’t look particularly hospitable which does a good job of keeping out a respectable crowd.

The building houses a nice little store with Ice cold drinks and a good sized live bait business which flows out to a nice deck/dock with a friendly bar and very relaxed atmosphere. Boats come and go while good music plays. Often in the afternoon during weekends people fry up fresh fish and shrimp donated by various fishermen that’s served up for free to anyone and everyone but it’s good style to leave a tip in the jar. One day I stopped there and had some of the best fried shrimp I’ve ever had.

As I was introducing Max to the bait camp a guy asked if Max would like to fish of the dock. He had an extra pole and we had time so Max took him up on the offer. The guy told us it was a good place to catch small fish for fun. Max caught a small fish and I took a photo. He continued to fish and I talked with the easy going regular Joe kind of guy who I found out owned a company with 1,000 employees that looks after oil refinery safety etc. You would never know by looking at him but he was obviously very well off. He was enjoying the day with his two sons who appeared to be around 10 and 12.

I figured Max hooked something pretty big with the pole bent all the way over as he leaned the opposite direction to maintain his balance with a perplexed look on his face. Max wasn’t sure what to do and looked to our host for help, however, we both wanted Max to earn his catch. The fish was putting up a fight as a boat moved to get out of the way while the fish danced around an outbaord motor. By this time a small crowd was gathering and Max was getting a workout. Slowly he reeled it in and I was hoping the light weight reel, pole, and line would hold. The fish surfaced and we could see it was a big one. A fisherman donated his net and someone scooped it up. The man running the live bait area told us to take a couple of pictures and get it back in the water. It was above the legal limit.

The fish known as a Drum weighed approximately 30 pounds and was obviously longer than the acceptable size range. There was a lot of excitement and congratulations for Max. He seemed a little surprised and bewildered by his stroke of good luck as he has practically no fishing experience.

A Post

Photo by Dawn Boudreaux Photography - Menil - Houston, Tx

I must confess that I am exceptionally uninspired to write these days. More than I have been in a long long time. I returned to Denver, Colorado at the end of April but plan to be back in Houston by mid-June. At that point I’ll asses my finances, choose a direction, and proceed to somewhere. Two more weeks and my mother will be done with chemo. She’s doing much better since the Doctors discontinued one of the chemo drugs that was particularly nasty. Mom’s spirits are up and things appear to be much better than they were over the winter. As soon as chemo is done the Doctors recommend simply getting on with life as they periodically monitor the situation. Cancer is one battle I hope I never have to fight.

My work situation has been kind of tough lately. I’ve been putting as much time into it as I can but the fruits of my labor have not been too fortuitous. The harvest has been thin as I find myself in a bit of a dry spell. Gas, time, and fees coupled with weak buys add up to food and necessity money but not much more. I’ve been unable to locate a crystal ball that really works and the competition usually seems to have the upper hand. I’m patiently waiting my turn in receiving the lucky break that always mysteriously appears when dumb luck chimes in. I’m not a gambling man but I roll the dice when I’m dealt a weak hand. Sometimes I get lucky. However, the reality is that it generally works like this: one dime + time = two dimes minus taxes and fees = 15 cents with expenses eating profits. However, my situation does come with benefits. No debt + No boss + Low cost living = Ultimate Freedom. That’s what it’s all about for me but as the cliché goes, “Freedoms not Free”. It’s a matter of how one chooses to live. As always I feel extremely lucky to have the choice. Most of the world doesn’t because of the economic and political situation they are born into.

Today is kind of an easy going day. I made the 45 minute drive to Boulder and went for a nice 9 mile trail run amidst the foothills decorated with large rock formations known as the Flatirons. The rocky mountain backdrop to Boulder has got to be one of the most attractive of all American cities.

Boulder seems a little quieter with the students of the University of Colorado off for the summer. I use to live in Boulder and worked at a running store in the early 1990’s. Boulder is an odd place. It’s a college town which makes the overall median age quite young. By time one exits their 20’s they may feel as though they have outgrown the majority of the social demographic. It’s also as town of extremes. It’s a world renowned training destination for runners, cyclist, and climbers testing and exploring their limits while being all pumped up on a double sot of ego. Boulder has always been an attraction for those of alternative lifestyle, odd spiritual persuasions, and hippie attitudes. Obesity is rare and fat people are uncommon. I think there is little arguing that Boulder is more than likely the fittest city in the nation. However, with the recent state legalization of Marijuana the pizza makers are more stoned than ever. Be sure to double check your order when it arrives.

Boulder prides itself as a conscious, progressive, and open community but I kind of see it trapped in an alley of one way thinking. Liberal thought is the norm and those who disagree with an issue and offer an opposing opinion are not likely to be accepted favorably. The homogenous community is highly educated, prideful, and most are pretty well off. The parks are beautiful, the neighborhoods nice, and Gluten free living comes easy. Those who fall into the fold and lifestyle brand of “Boulder” might feel as though they have arrived in a Utopia of sorts. However, for me I see it as a place of extremes, oddly out of balance, and blissfully self-absorbed. When I was in my 20’s I Loved living in Boulder. Now? It’s a nice a place to visit and the natural beauty cannot be denied. I also must add it’s a great place for a young person to go to college.

Well, I guess it’s time to get back to Denver. In the meantime I’ll be working on a new angle as I navigate my way out of a rut of sorts.

Holding Pattern Of Circumstance

The backpack is getting dusty and it’s been far too long since my last post so I figured I just better put something up. I am now down in Texas and have been for about 3 weeks or so, however, I will be heading back up to Colorado soon.

Under more normal circumstances you would have found me traveling this winter and posting regularly but until my mother finishes chemo I would not feel good about wandering off too far. It has not been easy for her. As long as she survives chemo I think she will be all right for a while. If all goes well I hope to do something interesting this summer and feel like late summer/fall is a real possibility for travel.

I continue to feel caught in-between chapters of the great book of life as I steadily maintain an even attitude in a holding pattern of circumstance. In general life feels a bit flat right now but I spice it up by running around digging up old stuff to buy and sell. As usual I pick up vintage vinyl records, old advertising, an interesting violin etc.,. It’s a game of hit and miss with good 'ol dumb luck coming through in the end. Somehow I make a deposit, pay a bill, and save a little. At the beginning of the day it’s really kind of a mystery how it all works out in the end. Somehow I manage to pull it off.

It’s been nice catching up with familiar faces in Houston. I haven’t been too motivated to run buy I make it out for a 12 mile run with the club every Sunday. I usually run with an Irishman by the name of Joe and we move along pretty good. Afterwards it’s generally coffee with a good sized group which is kind of nice.

It’s important to find some kind of social balance in life. For me it’s the running club and a community of pickers like myself looking for old stuff, antiques, etc. The running club is mostly comprised of professionals with steady jobs and a regular routine. The picking crowd is a colorful mixed bag caught up in the hunt for the next big hit. Usually it’s kind of like wholesale retail but every once and awhile you make an exciting find. That’s what keeps everyone going. In Houston the regular pickers comprise a relatively small group. I really don’t mind standing in line for an hour waiting for a sale to open because the whole time I’m talking and joking with people I know. When the door opens its all business as everyone first searches out their specialty or expertise before running through a property multiple times and darting off to the next sale. Wednesday through Saturday tend to be the best days. Some pickers are strictly collectors while most are like me and buy, sell, collect, and trade.

As usual one my favorite areas in the realm of old stuff are private label records of bands no one has ever heard of. Recently I picked up the 45 shown below. It now sits in the hands of a collector in Connecticut. It’s a rare Texas Garage Psych 45. Box Car by The Glass Kans. Enjoy!

Back To 2008

February finds me still in Denver. My mother is a having a very difficult time with chemo and I don’t feel it’s currently appropriate to make any plans for anything. Since I don’t really have to be anywhere I’m sticking around. When it comes to helping my mother, my sister and I make a good team. She tends to takes care of a lot of the Dr. Appointments, tracking meds, etc. I’m more of a nuts a bolts guy with shopping, taking care of things around the house, etc.

Denver is not a bad city but it certainly doesn’t appeal to me. It just doesn’t feel like my place. I miss warm humid coastal air. When I was younger I was always drawn to the mountains. Now as I get older I’m more drawn to the ocean. I could very well wind up spending my later years living in Hawaii or some tropical locale. Something about being near the ocean makes me feel better. Perhaps I’ll turn out to be one of those guys who buys a cheap old sail boat more for living in a funky old marina than sailing.

Aside of being available to help my mother I’ve been trying to make a little money buying and selling old stuff with limited success. I also try to make it to the mountains at least once a week but missed a couple of weeks due to the flu. I can’t remember the last time I had the flu but it kicked my butt for a few days. I usually get an annoying cold once a year but that’s about it. The flu kept me in bed all day which is something I don’t think has happened to me since I was a teen.

A real highlight of being in Colorado over the winter is when I get a chance to zip around Nordic trails up in the mountains. My favorite place to ski is Devils Thumb Ranch near Winter Park. With over 100km of finely groomed trails it’s a bit of a paradise for the cross country skier. Yesterday I spent 3 hours skiing the perimeter and then some. It was the first day I felt like I was done with the flu and my strength felt just about back to normal. As I climbed the hills, opened it up on the flats and let it go on the downhill’s I felt really blessed to be able to enjoy skiing so much. Technically I’m skiing quite well and I always maintain a decent level of fitness which greatly adds to the fun factor. In some ways Nordic skiing is kind of like swimming. If you don’t swim much and/or have poor technique it can be a chore swimming one lap. If you have good technique and are in reasonably fit condition you can swim mile after mile and actually enjoy it. Despite my distaste for cold weather I still like to ski.

As of late I have not been feeling particularly social nor have I been feeling creative at all. I feel like I’m living in the in between and it will be interesting to see how it all segues into the next chapter of life as I have no idea where things are headed at the current moment. In the process I have been simplifying my already simple life. Recently I exited the world of social media and am limiting my time on the internet to writing, email, and work related activity. I tired of Facebook and found it to be a little bit of a compulsion checking it several times a day. Facebook has it positives and negatives but I think social media is doing more to dilute the quality of relationships. People are spread thin as communication is limited to quick text messages and life is interpreted through out of context sound bites. Big opinions are based on very little as social media fosters abundant misunderstandings and quick inaccurate judgments of others.

The internet is a poor medium for discussing anything controversial and people in general have a difficult time understanding all sides of an issue. Facial expressions, tone of voice and overall demeanor can add a lot to a discussion. My general rule anymore is if I have anything important to address with anyone it's best to do it in person. I don’t even like talking on the phone when it comes to addressing a serious issue. Social media is teaching people how not to communicate properly in my opinion.

At the end of the day I've noticed that the only people who actually look me up in real life are those who either are not on Facebook or have little to do with it. I often joked that I had over 370 friends on Facebook and actually knew a couple. Something about it all seems kind of fake and superficial, so, I’ve decided to go back to life without social media for a while and see how it goes. Back to 2008.

My Nordic Side...

I really don’t care much for cold weather anymore. Heat is uncomfortable but cold is painful. I grew up in a sub-tropical climate near the Gulf of Mexico where some winters never see temps below freezing. It only makes sense that the older I get the more tropical I feel. However, I love to Nordic Ski. I guess I have problem.

When I was younger I ran away to Colorado and the American west to embrace all four seasons. I especially liked skiing. First it was Alpine style downhill, then traditional Telemark, and finally my favorite, Nordic. The Nordic technique that appeals to me most is freestyle/skate which is done upon nicely packed wide groomed paths with lightweight gear and skinny skis.

In most states that offer a fair amount of downhill skiing you will often find cross country ski Nordic Centers with miles of groomed trails. Some places turn the local golf courses into a variety of serpentine trails. Other areas may be a little more rural in nature like a ranch with a cowboy who knows how to drive a Snowcat. The US Forest Service also grooms trails upon public lands for snowmobiles and cross country skiers. Many areas are free but usually the specific designated Nordic Centers that put a lot into maintaining trails charge a fee. It’s generally $10 to $20 for the day. Season passes are normally very reasonable.

In the mid 1990’s up to the mid 2000’s I was nuts about Nordic skiing and participated in a fair number a races. My running background transferred well to an aerobic base but it took a lot of kilometers over two year period to become proficient at the freestyle technique. Ironically, the more familiar traditional classic technique is much harder to master. When I lived in Aspen I was only a ten minute walk to miles of groomed trails and skied 4 or 5 days a week. After awhile I got pretty decent at it.

I returned to Houston in the Fall of 2004 and dusted off my roller skies to sweat along Bayou bike paths. Skiing became limited to short winter visits to Colorado. In 2006 I ran off to the Adirondacks in upstate New York and skied by butt off while working at the Mt Van Hovenburg Nordic Center, site of the 1980 Winter Olympics. That was pretty awesome. Since that time I’ve focused more on International travel, long distance hiking, and have resorted to running as the usual method to maintain a desired level of fitness.

The last competitive Nordic events I participated in were in 2006. They were the Keskinada Loppett in Ottawa, Canada and the Lake Placid Loppett while working at Mt Van Hovenburg. Both are 50k’s and I was happy to place 3rd in my age group at Lake Placid. Competitive cross country skiing is by far the toughest sport I have ever participated in. It’s one thing to go for a walk with skis on your feet. It’s another to race. Every ski race is like a long lung busting interval workout with the only recoveries being the down hills which usually seem way to short. In other words it feels like most of a race consists of skiing as fast as you can uphill.

It takes a lot to be competitive but years of working on technique go a long way when it comes to simply enjoying the activity. I probably only have half the engine I use have for racing. Technique wise I’m about the same which allows me the ability to joyfully skate along for 2 to 3 hours while taking in some beautiful Colorado Rocky Mountain scenery.

From Denver I’m 1 ½ to 2 hours away from some splendid Nordic Centers but last week when the city got just enough snow on my mother’s un-plowed neighborhood streets I went out for a ski just like I go out for a run. It got a lot of smiles from the neighbors as I whizzed around with a quick V2 skate tecnique.

Anyway, not much has changed since my last December post. I’m balancing my time helping my mother while she undergoes chemo and weathers the ups and downs. I don’t mind. I just look forward to making it a point to get up to the mountains 1 or 2 days a week. I know I'll eventually get back to traveling internationally when the time is right.

Taking A Stand

What do you stand for? What do you believe in? In the world of relativity and political correctness modern society has become splintered and polarized. Most people choose to fall into a safety net of non-controversial grey when it comes to expressing what they really think or feel. See it however you want. Whatever is right for you is right. Absolute truth doesn’t exist except for those that society characterizes as intolerant and closed minded. Those who do express what they believe in don’t always back it up very well. Both sides of an argument cite biased and unreliable sources while engaged in heated political debates set upon a weak foundation of emotion. Blame is placed on the other and no one takes responsibility. If everyone just did the right thing there would be very few problems in the world, however, doing the right thing has become more relative than ever.

I consider myself an independent free thinker and a reasonable person who could care less what someone does with their own life on their own time as long as they are not hurting anyone else. That’s how I see myself. Live and let live. I can get along well with most anyone but I do have my opinions.

I’ve experimented with expressing various opinions on Facebook. Political and non political. When doing so only a few respond to anything controversial. Sometimes a little banter back and forth ensues with a few heated comments for a day or two then it’s back to silly posts of last night’s dinner or a picture of someone’s cat. After a while I might delete the thread altogether. After all, it was just an experiment. Facebook is a wonderful medium for misunderstanding and expressing misdirected frustrations. A lot of people have a hard time seeing all sides of an issue whether or not they agree or disagree.

So what do I believe in? What do I stand for? This is the question I ask myself. What’s my true character? What’s my moral and ethical code? As imperfect as I am I do feel I have a strong sense of right and wrong. At times I feel a bit isolated and disconnected from contemporary society but I enjoy being social and interacting with people all over the world. In some ways I could be considered conservative and old fashioned as Christian principles provide an element of structure to my life.

In a world of relativity where I believe morals and ethics are severely eroding one must stand firm or get swept along into whatever seems arguably justified at the time. Some things you compromise, some things you don't. Change is constant but not all change good. Today, in my opinion, people justify just about anything without taking many things into consideration. A person can choose to stay true to who they are or subscribe to the non-committal realm of whatever like a fashionable chameleon. We all have a choice.

Some of the most well respected yet controversial individuals are those who stood/stand up for something. Jesus comes to mind. A person may be seen as good, bad or indifferent before the judge and court of society but only absolute truth provides a genuine assessment of one’s actual character. What then is absolute truth and where does it originate? What’s the platform? It takes a lot of guts to stand up for the truth. When taking a stand you will be judged.

No Plans Beyond The Immediate Now

Instead of the usual get up early and drive 16+ hours straight through to Denver I chose to stop roughly halfway in Childress, Texas. It allowed for a relaxed morning departure from Houston. I booked a hotel beforehand so I wouldn’t have to think about it or needlessly continue further into the night which I’d likely be tempted to do. I reached my destination at a reasonable hour, got halfway decent sleep, and rolled into Denver the following day in time to pick up my nephew from school.

That was almost two weeks ago. The original idea was to go south of the equator and avoid winter all together but that is not to be the case for now. I had no idea that my mother would be starting her battle with cancer in mid November. For the most part everything has been going well post-surgery but that being followed with lifestyle changes and chemo soon to start means a major adjustment. Unknowns loom in the future but the prognosis is very hopeful and attitude is positive amidst all those involved.

The current situation has definitely caused me to take a step back and reprioritize my own self oriented pursuits. Although I’d prefer not to be in Denver right now and I’d rather be somewhere else I really don’t mind being in Colorado. I feel like I’m doing the right thing and that is what’s most important. My number one priority is to provide support to my mother and sister but I am able to balance my time with things I like to do. A week ago, due to remarkably mild winter weather, I was able to hike to the splendid summit of Bear Peak above Boulder. I’ve also been able to make time to shop some estate sales and have had a chance to pick up some interesting items that I should be able to make a little money on while here. Needless to say I’ve been able to get out for a run on a regular basis which does more good for my overall mental state than anything. The mountains are finally getting some snow so I hope to get in some Nordic skiing soon. All in all, considering the circumstances, things are ok. I’m just taking it as it goes and plan to be in Denver through the Holidays for sure. Beyond that point I’ll just have to see. I have no plans beyond the immediate now.

Checking In

A lot has happened since my last post and I feel a million miles away from creativity. I’ve been going at it full throttle with work and have allowed little time for anything else. That tends to be the pattern as I try to push a year’s worth of work in to six to eight months so I can do as I please and travel for the remaining time.

Along with my busy work routine there’s been a presidential election, a very good friend from college passed and my mother was diagnosed with cancer. I assumed I would be headed off to New Zealand for the winter/summer and had actually booked a ticket but I felt tentative about it so I didn’t talk it up much.

It’s currently a beautiful day in Houston with temps in the low 80’s and just the right amount of humidity. My kind of weather but tomorrow I’ll be headed back up to the Rocky Mountain state. My mother was diagnosed with cancer just two weeks ago and underwent surgery almost immediately. She is now recovering in Denver and the prognosis good but there is chemo to follow along with lifestyle changes one must make to battle a disease that has become far to common. For me it’s a no brainer that I head up to Colorado for an undetermined amount of time to offer support to my sister and mother. Sure, I’d love to me headed off on some other journey but I much rather do the right thing.

Houston - Inside The Loop - Thru The Backdoor

Houston is a large city. It’s the fourth largest in the USA. A red state with a robust Gas and Oil economy coupled with a connection to the Bush family fuels the fodder for misconception. As the French would say, “Houston? Texas? Ah Bushy”. Go ahead. Think of it as a redneck ultra conservative cow town full of tea party constituents but don’t expect everyone to speak English. Dos mas Cerveza por favor. Misconceptions have an upside. Houston is much wierder than Austin….

First of all over 900,000 thousand are Hispanic with around 700,000 of them claiming Spanish as their first language. After all, Texas was once a part of Mexico until Santa Anna was captured and his Army was defeated on a plot of swampy land right outside the Bayou City. The number of whites is around 500,000 with the number of Blacks being a just a little less. Asians make up about 125,000. From there is nice mix of ethnicities from all over the world. Swirled together in sprawled out mess of roads and traffic everyone seems to get along well in what I consider to be one of the more tolerant cities within America.

People have their preferences, political beliefs etc. but at the end of the day no one really cares if you like mustard on your hamburger or not. Why talk politics and religion when there are more important things to discuss such as, “It sure is hot out there”, “Where’s the Best Tex Mex” and “Have a nice day”.

You can either live inside the loop, outside the loop, or way out in the suburbs. Strip malls and chain restaurants/stores litter the major thorough fares. Restaurants and eating establishments are everywhere. Outside the loop, in a lit parking lot of a Best Buy and Target, may make one think they are in anywhere USA. However, inside the loop, close in, and thru the back door reveals a much more interesting twist to an otherwise plain white toast sort of city. Tourist bureau? No, that won’t do you much good. Houston is not a tourist city.

The Gathering - After 27 Years

Pete, Chuck, Myself, and Gary










Old habits die hard and excuses keep them going. Especially when the need for money is involved. So, upon my return to Houston, since my last post, I have been possessed by the demon of busyness in a frenetic haste to replenish the bank account. However, I did manage to slip away for a few days to catch up with some people I haven’t seen in 27 years.

Gary “The Clam” recognized me right away. He looked a little different that he did during the time he was running 130 mile weeks and hiking like a machine. Chuck “Woodchuck” quickly spotted me as well and hobbled over enthusiastically while expressing how good it was to see me. I was informed that Pete “The Cheshire Cat” would be showing up the next day.

“ALDHA… Ah yes,,, I must confess. I am a long distance hiker”. That got a few chuckles from the audience and one boisterous laugh to my right. I had been asked to speak only an hour before the opening of "The Gathering" and didn’t hesitate to do so. Why not? It’s just a bunch of hikers. A crowd of kindred spirits that enjoy hiking miles on end sleeping in the woods while living off noodles. An assortment of individuals driven by the force of getting from here to there for no other reason than seeing what’s along the way.

I was speaking in an auditorium on the campus of Concord University in Athens, WV. To my left a large banner hung as I spoke before a good sized crowd feeling quite comfortable as unrehearsed words flowed naturally. I talked of how it had been 27 years since I hiked the Appalachian Trail from Georgia to Maine and how much of an impact 5 months of continuous hiking atop mountains and through woods had affected my life. I also spoke of how it continues to do so. Since most of the crowd had hiked the trail I felt my talk was keenly understood and well received. In all I think my speech lasted about 7 or 8 minutes but it was kind of hard to tell for sure. I do very little public speaking but I kind like it and think I’m reasonably good at it.

 ALDHA stands for the Appalachian Long Distance Hiking Association. It was created by former end to end thru hikers of the Appalachian Trail. The main event is "The Gathering" which takes place every year in October. It’s a reunion of sorts filled with workshops, meetings, and campfires. Most everyone camps on a small music festival site outside of Pipestem, WV. The workshops and all take place on the Concord campus. Although the Gathering favors Appalachian Trail hikers it’s open to anyone who is interested. Most of the workshops deal with what to do after the A.T. and where to go next. Most presentations focus on other paths within the USA and abroad. The key presentation was by a hiker that traversed the Himalaya’s across India and Nepal. He would have continued into Pakistan but didn’t and couldn’t for obvious political reasons.

The workshops and all were fine but my real reason for attending the gathering was to revisit, catch up, and reflect upon the one accomplishment that has most affected my life. Chuck and Pete were probably the two I wanted to see the most and Gary remained a vivid memory out of many I met along the way. I was only 19 when I hiked the trail. Pete was 40. Gary and Chuck were in their 30’s. Naturally, they looked a little older.

Pete “The Cheshire Cat” was fresh out of the Air Force in '85 with a 20 year retirement. He was the most precise, organized, and cleanest hiker I've ever met. Chuck “Woodchuck” was the most colorful character on the trail with his long hair, bushy beard, and custom made 7 foot hiking staff adorning coon tails and crucifix. I met Pete and Chuck on the 4th day amidst self-doubt and second guessing as the reality of what it takes to walk from Georgia to Maine really sunk in.

I hiked with Chuck for a week. I also camped with Pete and Chuck along with a few others during that time. Their enthusiasm and determination through what I refer to as the early miles of “Breaking In” really helped me to understand how to allow time for adjustment. I realized I needed break down the big goal of walking to Maine into smaller goals of where I’d be in a week, the end of the day, and mid afternoon. I learned a lot from just being around more mature adults who already knew this and were well suited for the task.

After three weeks I had gone through a mental and physical transformation. I found myself passionately committed and in it for the long haul. At that point there was no way I was getting off the trail until reaching the northern terminus atop Mt. Katahdin, Maine.

I ran into Pete off and on all the way to the end. I saw Chuck regularly until Pennsylvania where I sped up and he slowed a bit. Gary was one of those guys I met along the journey that I simply connected with and enjoyed sharing conversation during the evening when camped at a lean to. I don’t remember seeing too much of him as he was a faster hiker than myself.

In 1985 less than 10% of those who set out to hike the A.T. end to end succeeded. By late fall of 1985 about 100 hikers registered as having completed the entire trail either in one trip or several stages.

It took me a day and a half to drive the 1,150 miles up to West Virginia which gave me Friday evening and all day Saturday/Sunday to catch up and swap stories. Although many details have turned foggy, twenty seven years seemed like yesterday. As if it were nothing more than a brief hiatus were everyone just got a little older. I spent most of my time hanging out with Pete, Chuck, and can’t say I really felt all that connected with the others.

The trail was different back in the day. A lot fewer people did it. Equipment was heavier. Resupply was more of a chore. Communication was poor in comparison to today’s smart phones etc. I think hikers leaned a little more on one another. Every fellow thru hiker you met was an instant friend. Maybe the relationships were a little stronger back then and hold up a little better over time. Most attending the event were veterans of more recent years and what seemes like a little different experience.

Friday, Saturday, and Sunday passed quickly. On Monday morning I packed my tent in a light rain and bid farewell to Chuck. I had said my goodbyes to Pete and Gary the evening before. That afternoon I made a slight detour on my way home to perfectly time lunch with a buddy in Asheville, NC before pressing on.

With the passing of 6 short days I arrived back home after driving approximately 2,400 miles and immediately dived back into work. I've hardly given myself a moment to reflect on the awesome time I had.

Today Pete still does long hikes. From what I understand, Gary hasn't done too much hiking since the trail but attends The Gathering every year. Chuck’s hiking is limited due to a bad foot but he is heavily involved in preserving the Appalachian Trail and has become a living legend of sorts. Oh, and come to find out, 1985 is viewed to have been one of the best years based on hiker community and trail camaraderie.