August 27th, 2012
     The rain is presently picking up, but no matter, for I'm sleeping in a barn, circa 1860's. I never expected this when waking earlier today, let alone the fact I'd have to earn my stay in this humble place, doing of all things, 'work'. Work, to the tune of about 2 and a half hours of weedwhacking. I was coming down through a field, 6-7 miles away from my goal when I noticed a nice barn and house, then a hiker at the road said we could sleep in the barn. I considered it, some rain was moving in and my right knee was hurting me more than any day on the trail so far. I calculated I'd done 15 miles already and talked myself into staying. Then the owner came out and wondered if we could do some yard work, weedwhacking and whatnot. "Sure" I said, I'll do some oddjobs for my stay. Easy Peasey. Well after I topped off the gas tank on the trimmer for the FOURTH TIME!!!,  I started to wonder if all this work was worth it just to sleep in a barn. Soon into the ordeal though, "4 Spoke" the hiker i'd just met, said the guy mentioned something about a pasta dinner if we did a good job. This was what kept me going; and the hope that the guy was a good cook.
   Earlier, when 4 Spoke and I assembled to work, the owner asked if either of us had weedwhacker experience. My 5 years of mowing and trimming my church cemetary during my salad days easily outweighed my new buddy's trimming resume. I set off toward my work, overhearing that 4 Spoke's employment would involve the use of a wheelbarrow. "Sucker" I thought. Then 20 mins into my job, the trimmer head clogged and the guy had  to fix it whilst I helped 4 Spoke pull weeds. "Sucker" I thought. By and by though the guy got the thing fixed and I was soon back to laying weeds low while dreaming of a big pasta meal. I wasn't even sure if the meal was in the bag; he said 'IF' we do a good job. Once, I overfilled the tank and the guy wiped the spilled gas off a rock with a paper towel. One strike I thought. But then later he said I had a steady hand at running the weedwhacker and that he now trusted me to trim between his Hostas lining the driveway. Up til then I'd just been down trimming along the creek bank. So I tarried on, now hoping I'd have shower coming too. I dreaded getting into a sleeping bag all grassy. In fact I was getting thrashed by small stones and debris in my hiking shorts. Formerly, I would always weedwhack in jeans.
   A little later the guy mentioned shower and laundry too. I think we were impressing him. He's got us tidying things up for a wedding in his yard in a few weeks. The place needs alot of work. The back yard was trashed by Tropical Storm Irene last year. Piles of sediment, silt and rock still linger. Some lingered in my leg flesh after I plowed into them with the trimmer head.
   So finally, as darkness and light rain fell, he said we could put the tools away. I got showered. The guy, Dan, is definitely a bachelor. He said he didn't have any bar soap, but handed me a pump bottle of instant hand sanitizer to shower with...luckily I found some sort of soap in a bathroom closet.
    Anyway, he made us a great meal with homemade pasta sauce from his garden's tomatos. Quite good. Also, I found out he owns a company that restores old buildings, specifically church steeples.  Dan said he's done work in New York City on the Statue of Liberty torch and also  on the Old North Church. So we talked old stuff.
    Sure enough then he asked us to work tomorrow too. He said it would be worth staying because there's a dinner tomorrow night on the green in Woodstock, celebrating or commemorating one year since Irene, which devastated the area and much of Vermont. Woodstock is a beautiful historic town. I drove through it the other day when I rented a car to see some friends. I guess the meal will be family style for like 3000 people which would be cool to be a part of. So again, the perenial question, should I stay or should I go? Always a dilema. I'll sleep on it. In a barn.

August 28th
    As  I was slowly waking this morning, still deliberating on whether to stay and help this guy, I decided to stay. I think mostly out of the sense I had that he really needed some help. Also recalling Carver's philosophy, "Where I am is where I'm supposed to be" ran through my head.
   Anyway I found out that Dan is divorced, which makes me understand why his house was a little messy, not in a disgusting way, just as if it hasn't been swept or dusted in a very long time. When I told him I'd stick around to help he seemed elated. "You have no idea how much stress you've taken off me by agreeing to stay" he said, very genuinely too, so I felt good that he really needed my help. So like I said, it just needed sweeping and dusting so I worked on that all day, and it's a big Colonial with many rooms, I had plenty to do. While cleaning I realized I still hardly knew a thing about Dan, he doesn't divulge harldy anything personal at all in conversation. So I let myself put things together, at least as best I could, based on context clues from his house while working. Which was kinda fun.
   For supper, like he promised, we went into Woodstock. I was amazed as we walked into the center of town, and came to the Green. There were so many people; and tables lined up for hundreds of feet in length. The high school Jazz n Funk Band was jamming and it was great music, then later as we ate grilled steak and vegetables, kabobs, beans, rolls, everything; and all so good, a New Orleans Style Jazz band walked amongst the tables playing 'In The Sweet By and By' then, and I just sat back and soaked in the scene. Thousands of people eating together, the biggest collection of people eating a family style dinner I've ever seen. There was laughter and smiles, a drastic contrast I'm sure from what flood victims were going through exactly a year ago. I've seen the look of defeat and hopelessness on the faces of people recently displaced by floods and other disasters and I much prefer the happiness on the other side of the trials endured when things have turned around and are better.
    This was a great, unexpected treat the trail has given me, this night, really this whole experience, meeting Dan and all. He said I've always got a place to stay if i'm in the area. Also I'm sure I'll take advantage of his building and timberframe knowledge if I'm ever in a pickle. Well, back at the old grind tomorrow.

8-23-2012 In Which I Take a Few Days Off.
I wanted to be walking into into Hanover today, that’s 40 miles away. Instead I’m sitting on a rock in front of the Long Trail Inn. I managed to escape the magnetic pull of the Yellow Deli. I had decided to stay, but then couldn’t stand not being on the trail or in the woods. So at almost 5pm I left, which was pretty late to take a 40 mile hike into Hanover. So I was going to night hike and try to get to a road 20 miles north, then hitch to Hanover, but that didn’t work out because I left my headlamp at the Yellow Deli. So I figured, “Welp” I’m here at the Inn, might as well grab a bite and comingle. I thought of Carver’s trail philosophy, he says, concerning the trail, “Where I am is where I’m supposed to be.” So I like that. At the restaurant I met an old Austrian guy named Adi. I asked him what he does, he said in a heavy accent, “I’m a woodworker” and showed me his hands. Man they were beat up. One finger showed scars of being almost completely unattached at one point in its career. I pointed at it and asked, “Table saw?” He said, “Shaper” and I cringed. I won’t describe what a shaper does and hopefully spare you the cringe. So we talked woodworking for awhile as he enjoyed his Reuben, I my broccoli soup. It was hard to understand him, but I learned that he makes some higher end furniture for people on the high end, but his bread and butter are cedar chests with dovetail corners. I really wanted to see his shop and some of his work so I asked where it was and if I could stop in this morning and he said I could. I just came from his shop. It was what I expected for the most part, an old red building with a charming handmade sign out front that said “Adi’s Woodworks” and as I walked in, a pleasing blend of black walnut, and aromatic cedar lovingly flooded my nasal labyrinths. I breathed in deep and smiled. The first piece that caught my eye was a stunning quilted black walnut cabinet with wrought iron pulls. The grain was so vibrant and alive. I couldn’t believe, in looking around, that this shop produced such a piece. Like most wood shops, it was cluttered and didn’t have the expensive chisel and plane sets, expensive power tools and other fine implements you can spend money on. He had ryobi and chicago routers which aren’t top of the line, but a top of the line person can do a lot with a little. Adi was a top of the line guy, he definitely had a certain anachronistic style about him too, with his faded non collared corduroy jacket, and Austrian accent. When I asked if he learned woodworking from his father or grandfather, I learned that before Adi turned 3, his father was killed on the Russian front in WWII.  He’s definitely making some quality furniture at his age. It was just refreshing to be in a non-trail setting talking with a non-trail person about non-trail things. My normal conversations cycle through things like food we fantasize about, where our next town stop is, the best hostel or restaurant in the that town, how the terrain is up ahead, what kind and how well our gear is holding up, whether so and so is up ahead or behind and were they took some time off. It’s all like that. I gets old, so a wood shop was just what I needed.
                Now. I think I’ve finally figured out what to do here. After Adi’s, my plan was to hitchhike to Hanover, hang out with my friend Patrick for tonight and tomorrow morning, then rent a car, go pick up Caitlin and hang out with her and Kelly until Saturday. Take Caitlin back to the airport, but then I’d be stuck with having to get back to Killington, and back on the trail. So after 15 minutes of unsuccessful hitching, I just figured I’ll pay for an extra day of car rental, save myself a big headache, and rent from Rutland. I’m slowly coming to terms that it’s okay to be taking it easy. 5 days off trail seems like a lot, but I’ve only had one zero mile day so far. I need to relax and enjoy myself. Mentally prepare for the White Mountains in New Hampshire maybe. My brother-in-law, Reuben, is always telling me it’s not about the destination, but about the journey, so I just need to relax. I'll still finish in December in Georgia, which will be chilly but shouldn’t be too bad. So I think I’m definitely relaxing. I’m excited about driving a car too. It’s been about a month and a half since I’ve driven…good thing it’s a rental.
…Evening…
I’m at Patrick’s right now in Hanover. His family has a very nice place, and we had a relaxing meal outside. Looking forward to breakfast in Hanover and seeing the town a little bit in the morning. Driving the car was fun. It’s not like it was hard getting the hang of it, but I had to be mindful of things moving much faster than normal. Looking forward to the next 2-3 days very much, feeling relaxed.
   

8-21-2012
Yesterday I caught a bus into Rutland, VT with simple plans. Resupply, laundry, shower. But the bus stopped and picked up Knoxville, Samson, and Tinkerbell, and they were headed to an all you can eat Chinese buffet and after minimal prodding, so was I. A Wal-Mart was beside the buffet, my resupply, and then there was a hostel close by, which I figured I could work something out to where I could just shower, do laundry, and skedaddle. So I came to this hostel, “The Yellow Deli” and instantly I felt this overwhelming sense of hospitality and belonging. As I approached, a whimsical version of ‘Blackberry Blossom’ was playing on the outdoor speakers, I entered, and was Blown Away. I’ve never seen a décor like this. All reclaimed wood, old barn beams, whiskey barrel staves as booth backs, scythe handle incorporated as railings, and stained glass lampshades. It really would take pages to describe everything. The hiker sitting nearby asked if I was staying, I said no just laundry and shower. He’s like, “No, you seriously need to stay. We’ve been here for 3 days, we can’t leave.” So I get set up with a shower and all, and in the guys dorm I noticed some literature about biblical things, and everyone had different names I realized, and then I realized I’d heard about this place. It was rumored to be a cult. Everyone lives in community, and they use this deli to make money. It’s called the 12 Tribes. Well long story short, I was sucked in, for the night at least. Hopefully. I’m still here…but my bags are packed. I did some chores, made beds, washed dishes and windows, and so that’s called 'work for stay'. Therefore, I was able to stay without paying 20 bucks. I also got the best sandwich I’ve had on the trail. I’m telling you, make the trip to Rutland, VT and eat here. Join us! Just kidding, but seriously, they don’t seem too out there, just following the Bible very fundamentally. They don’t consider themselves Christians, because of the negative connotations with the crusades and everything, but they believe Jesus, or Yahshua, which is the original pronunciation of Jesus. And that he is the son of God and died to save us of our sins.
                So anyway. I’ll be back in Rutland on Friday evening with Kelly and Caitlin. Our original plans were to jsut hang out but I'd like to come here for a Sabbath celebration and meal Friday night, it sounds fun.
                We’re all still sitting here, Uncle Oops, the guy who said I should stay, and Carver, they’re sitting in their same spot they’ve been in for days. A great rendition of Wayfaring Stranger is playing now as I realize how addicting these folks are. They say cults suck you in and if they’re anything like this, I can see how. Everyone is so gentle and peaceful. My occasional loss of temper might subside hanging around the peaceful guys like Levmilech.

    (....Later notes....This place was indeed a cult, and from accounts from other hikers I heard the 12 Tribes is one of the best cults at sucking people in. I'm glad I left, luckily the trail was calling me harder than them, and they were weirding me out anyway.)

8-19-2012
It’s Sunday morning, August 19th, I think. I’m sitting on a giant rock amid another crystal clear, Vermont mountain stream. Again, I can’t say enough about Vermont. Every moment is perfect, constantly surrounded by natural beauty. A highlight last night was reaching the top of a mountain, just as the sun’s bourbon light was ebbing, and I came to a veritable Museum of Natural Modern Art on that mountain. All over a few huge boulders, previous hikers had built elaborate rock cairns. In simplest form, a rock cairn is just a pyramid of rocks, but people had spent a ton of time on these. Elaborate rock arches, overhanging cairns, ones that seemed to defy gravity, and cairns that were skillfully balanced and seemingly delicate, but could possibly have been in place for years. I could’ve stayed for hours but light was fading fast and I had to get to the nearest shelter that unfortunately didn’t have any water. I had one cup on me, not enough to cook, so I’m eating last night’s meal by this stream to get some calories for the day. A Thai Sweet Chili Pasta side is not my ideal breakfast. Biscuits and gravy sound better, but I do what I gotta do.

8-17-12

What. A. Nice. Evening.

I never knew growing up my whole life that Vermont had such incredible mountains. I was hiking up Bromley Mountain, planning on going another 8 miles when a storm came up and I wasn’t looking forward to spending time in it. So a ski slope was at the top and I figured worst case I’d take refuge under a lift. Well, even better, a warming hut was open for hikers and I got in right before the storm. After the heavy rains, just before night fall, the most amazing sunset developed. Layers of mountains in the foreground, and the clouds and fog were just rolling by us. It was constantly changing, but so beautiful. I love this life.

Last night was great too. We went swimming at Stratton Pond while the sun set in the pond’s horizon, right in the vanishing point of two evergreen strewn hills. We swam, then rinsed out some clothes, then set out for a good camping spot right at dusk. 3 miles later! In the dark! We finally found a spot. I was worn out, but every step closer meant less I’d have to do today. We built a fire, and really had a fun night. Again, so fun. Well I’m sleepy, and I need to get in some big miles tomorrow, 26?

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8-13-12

Well I’ve taken quite a hiatus on the blog. I was getting tired of writing every evening, and decided to spend my time reading instead. So it’s been a good break. I’ve gone a good distance since I last wrote, through Connecticut and over half of Massachusetts. My time in New York was good, nice scenery, but bad water sources. Connecticut was pretty. My first New England state, and it didn’t fail to impress. My first view included your stereotypical New England sites, church steeples rising above the trees, old colonial houses, and clean, brightly painted barns. I moved through Connecticut pretty fast, except for the first day in which I caught up on town things in Kent, Connecticut. Laundry, blog, mail, resupply, new footbeds for my shoes. I got on the trail at 6:30 that evening, but still made 10 miles of it by night hiking a very flat stretch along the Housatonic River. It was very pleasant albeit some lurking shadows created by my headlamp. I found a starry field and cowboy camped in it then. A nice night. Another highlight in CT was getting a good, 3 minute video of a decent sized black bear. He was panting heavy, probably hot, and just moping around. I let him get about 30 feet from me then decided it was close enough and said, “It’s hot for me too buddy.” He looked confused, surprised, and then took off running from where he came. Quite exciting for me.

So Connecticut was good, except it was buggy. Black gnats all the time. My buddy, Dirty D, cleverly dubbed it Co-gnat-icut, which I was thought was pretty good.

Then soon into Massachusetts I got back with The Hair, Sherbert and Octo. So they've been good company. One night, soon into Mass, I shared this small shelter with an older guy named Late Start. He was busy looking for a favorite pocket knife of his that he lost, one with sentimental value. As we talked I learned he was a retired electrician from Chicago, heard all about his mother’s walking stick he had, his dad’s Leatherman multi-tool, and about his attempts of completing the AT. Two years ago I guess he started in the south, but drought conditions forced him to quit for lack of water. So he tried the next year from the north and got pounded with rain from tropical storm Irene, "one extreme to another" we both said at the same time. He also slipped one time and messed his leg up good and dislodged something in his back. So he was forced off the trail again. He’s now out here trying to finish, after he finds his knife. As he poked around, I noted how the wind was picking up and remembered rumors of possible nighttime storms. Then this big old fallen tree which was hung up in another one got to squeaking right beside us. I looked around and now fully appreciated the mass and height of the monarch hemlock and white pines that surrounded us; well over 100, some over 120-140 feet tall, with 3 foot diameters. These things would smash our measly shelter into tiny bits. Given Late Start’s streak of misfortune, I put a lot of thought into the wisdom of sharing a shelter with him. I didn't want to test providence. I even expressed my concerns to him, and he didn’t give a compelling argument that we’d be fine. Alas though, I was tired and decided to take my chances, and made it of course. Rough night of sleep though, skeeters were bad, and Late Start snored impressively.

Next 3 nights, mattresses! First at a little retreat center, got a shower too. Didn’t even have to hitch a ride, this guy Sam, a hiker himself figured I was heading there and picked me up, saving me a 1.5 mile off-trail road walk. The next night, got the last bunk at Upper Goose Cabin. A cool little place in the Massachusetts woods. The caretakers made delicious blueberry pancakes every morning. Then in Dalton, I stayed at a guy’s place, Tom Levardi, who’s been taking hikers in for 30 years. Shower, laundry, bed, town, food, all great. Then he took us into town the next day to Dick’s Sporting Goods and I got a great deal on a down sleeping bag, a much needed item.

7-30-12

Here at Wawayonda Shelter and what a nice evening. Also, I’ve got the place to myself which has to be rare. A few tenters, but no one in the shelter but me. The bugs are chirping, owls hooting, and it was a great evening hike. I rested in Vernon, NJ most of the day at the St. Thomas Episcopal Church where I slept last night. They run a hostel in their basement. I slept in a cool carpeted stairwell away from everyone and finally got a good night of sleep. Also, one thing I love about churches is playing their pianos late at night. That was a treat.

So I took it easy all day not sure of my plans but my feet were kinda swollen, some new blisters and poison ivy in spots. When it rains, I think the oils rinse down into my socks from my shoes. The poison ivy always seems to flare up after rain. Finally around 5p.m. I realized I’d better get moving. I remembered seeing a sign for a shoe store and found out it was only 3 miles away, but closes at 6. I decided to try for it via hitchhiking; threw my stuff together and was standing by the road at 5:25. I got a ride after 10 minutes and had some new Keens picked out by 5:50. I’ve been coveting other people’s Keens lately. They have a giant glob of rubber on the front of every shoe that protects from painful toe stubs, the most frustrating thing for me on the trail by far. So I tried on these shoes and upon wiggling my toes felt this luxurious padding, even on top, and it seemed perfect. So I bought them, and felt no sentimentality or regret when I told the guy to pitch my flimsy toed Montrails. Then, this was great; we were chatting at the door and he knew I had a mile or so walk back to the trail and he felt bad he couldn’t take me because he had his bike, so he took off running across the parking lot and flagged down a guy he knew that was leaving. The guy saw him at the last minute and pulled into a yard probably thinking something was wrong, only to find out he’s been volunteered to give a stranger a ride. “Don’t worry, he just showered” the shoe salesman said as I made my way to the guy’s car. I guess he owned a neighboring business and was leaving. I was happy to get the ride, whether he was happy about it or not. That’s a good shoe salesman though, I’d go back to that place just because of that. The 10% hiker discount was good too.

These entries are so long, but there are all these little things I want to remember that seem cool to me. Hopefully it’s not boring. What wasn’t boring to me were the six bears, yes, you read that right, six bears I saw tonight. First a mama and cub on my left, not far away, then a mama and 3 cubs on my right after I walked a little further. I didn’t feel in any danger really, actually wielded my camera instead of my measly knife, and got some short, grainy, dark video. It was too far and too dark for a picture. So yeah, a good day I guess, heck of a climb though out of Vernon, the toughest yet for me, very steep. Well I guess that’s all I have to say about that. Goodnight.

8-1-12

Yesterdays highlights include in no particular order:

       Getting chocolate chip cookies at the Greenwood Lake Post Office from my wonderful girlfriend. 

       Entering New York and texting her, Caitlin, telling her I was here, she said “Me too.” She’s a flight attendant for a Delta Connection carrier and had just landed in LaGuardia. So really I wasn’t far away from NYC and decided to hang out on a high rock to watch planes go over, wondering if I saw hers. I told her to wave and blow me a kiss. 

       Getting some good trail magic from Bob and Estelle, little candy bars, granola bars, and water.

     But then as I was hiking out of Greenwood Lake, I got my first tinge of loneliness. I hadn’t been hiking with anyone lately because I’m mainly introverted to begin with, plus, I like the independence of making my own decisions. But on the downside, I’m pretty boring by myself. So as luck would have it, or whatever you call it, I ran into a motley crew of hikers with a cool dog. I heard the music they were blaring first, a bluegrassy sound I liked, and it felt like I was coming upon a small traveling circus. Made small talk with one person, gender was unclear at first, and I went on my way, but kicked myself right away. Conversation in my head was like, “You’re bored by yourself, why walk away from a group right away?” So I slowed down and they caught up, music still blaring and I let them pass, because they were hoofing it and I tagged along behind. So we came to a cool view at the surrounding hills, and also saw some hikers on a giant rock in the distance. We caught up to them and it was Sherbert, a guy I hiked with a little, The Hair, and Octo. So after chilling on the rock a while we all took off and finally ended up at a beautiful place called Mombasha Highpoint. We all found spots and were constantly commenting on how cool our camp was. Views all around with a bright, almost full moon. I was set up in some trees below camp and made supper and when I walked up to hang out with everyone, I climbed the rocks to the music of Alicia Keys and Jay Z singing, “Now you’re in New Yorroorrrk.” I thought it was appropriate and smiled. A few of us played hearts and just relaxed and had fun. I felt a part of the group right away, it was a good night.

*Gator, Sancho, Scrooge, Fudgie, Octo, The Hair, Sherbert, and me Owen Á, and Rudy the dog.

So about my trail name, I’m hiking in honor of my friend Owen Anderson who passed away in early July, up in North Dakota. He was my favorite resident at the retirement home where I volunteered. He was paralyzed most of his life from a car accident he was in when he was 18, but still managed to have one of the best dispositions in the home. He could barely talk or hold his head up, he couldn’t move his legs, and only one arm barely moved, which he used to control his scooter with. But he always had a big smile for you and the brightest blue eyes. I’m trying to walk some miles he never could while also telling people about him when they wonder about my trail name, Owen Á.

…Tonight we’re on another mountain, just me, Octo, The Hair, and Sherbert. We did 16 miles today on some fun, big rock terrain, some good climbing and squeezing. We had some great trail magic, Pepsi, a Subway foot long, pita with bean dip, and some fresh cherries, right by a lake we went swimming in. It was great as we relaxed, feeling clean from the lake on the sun heated rocks. A great time, and now we’ve got a little fire going and it’s a beautiful night. Slightly cool breeze, and busy bugs. If it’s clear in the morning, we should be able to see the NYC skyline. This is more fun than camping and hiking alone. Conversation with others really makes the time fly. New York’s terrain so far is great too. There’ll be these grassy meadows all over the place with a few towering trees. Very nice state so far. Well, goodnight.