Just random stuff

So right now I'm at the library in Buena Vista (pronounced Byewna Vista) doing my internetting, so I'm just going to opine off the cuff about random Appalachian Trail stuff.



Hiking In General



It occurs to some people to ask what you do when it rains. Well, the answer to that is you hike. I started all this business on March 2nd and have now been out here two months. On the train ride down from NYC it rained the whole way. I kept wondering for the entir 16 hours or so what on Earth had possessed me to do this thing. Well, after I got to Georgia all the rain had turned to snow. The temperature plummeted and the first night I spent out in the wilderness it was 14 degrees, not including windchill. It's a pretty nice reward to actually wake up in the morning to see that you're still alive. It does cross your mind, you know.



But that's the coldest it ever got. It did snow more, but you get used to it. You also get used to the cold. So much so that you just end up hiking in shorts and short sleeves regardless of the temperature it seems. I know I spent many a day in such attire hiking around in 40 degree weather. There'd still be ice on the ground.



Wet is another situation all together. Hypothermia is tough to shake once it sets in. In Franklin, TN this kid gets dropped off at the hostel and left for dead by some old people who rescued him at a road, realized he was insane and wanted nothing more to do with him. He had somehow managed to get 100 miles with really no ability. A true miracle. He was soaked to the bone and was talking about how close to hypothermia he was. He then related more stories of how he'd nearly died under similar conditions in the wilderness. He was a short guy but with a huge pot belly and skinny legs who claimed to have ran several marathons in the past year. He was out of his mind. An actual Walter Mitty but without the wife. He did have an imaginary girlfriend out in Colorado waiting for him. He was from Ohio.



And then there's the heat. It recently got very hot in Virginia. Well, sort of. It was consistently up in the mid 80s last week which is not really too hot, but when there is no leaf-cover established on the trees yet you have to deal with all the radiation. You end up roasting. You need lots of water and many breaks. You are greatful for the creeks and rivers. There's plenty more of this on the way.



There's also a lot of fog and other cloud-related issues. You spend a lot of time up in the clouds and have no view. I kind of like this experience the most. You stay cool and it's just so relaxing.



What else is there I'd like to talk about? Well, there's the people. This is a very social trail. That's its personality. At first it bugged me to no end, but if you want to be left alone just stay at home. That was always my solution in the past. But that's just not how this is. You come across a lot of people out here who start the thing off with some kind of "searching" or attempt at discovery or what have. The bad news is that there's nothing to really discover about yourself out here that can't be done at home, church, AA or whatever it is in life. There are no secrets the univers hidden under rocks (well, not exclusively). The solution to all of your problems does not lie in the wilderness. There are as many ways to get drugs here as there are back home. There is no where to run. These people usually figure this out pretty quickly and either bail or deal with their problem in a more useful fashion. There's really not that many of them.



In the end, the people out here are basically the same as the people are anywhere. The only difference is that all of us have agreed to be out here at the same time. Other than that most of us have nothing in common. There are still people you don't like, idiots, just like everything else you get along. Or you try to. This is not a vacation from life, or a way to run from responsibility. It's just like the rest of life as far as I'm concerned. Every day is basically the same but there is inevitably an amazing twist. I look forward to dinner, to my after dinner reading, to my time in town. I look forward to the letters I write my friends, and all the rest. I miss playing my guitar and listening to music.

In the end, I have learned (or rather, have had the point driven home) that no matter what it is I find myself doing, that that is real life.

Later on,

Jonathan