Ta Da!

Well, he did it! Derek scaled Mt. Kahadin, touched the sign, posed for a quick photo or two and then scrambled down as fast, yet as cautiously, as he could over the treacherous outcroppings of slippery rocks. It stormed his whole time on the mountain, with 50 mile per hour wind gusts and sideways rain. He was, he said, genuinely afraid.

My husband hiked the last 100 miles or so of the AT with him, including Mt. Katahdin. Four other people joined them -- Derek's friend Cheeze (from Wisconsin), Lonah (that's loner but with a Maine accent), Halfway ('cause he hiked half the trail last year) and Retro ("cause of his twenty year old hiking equipment). Is Derek happy? Yes, of course. Happy to make it through relatively unscathed. Happy to finish what he'd set out to do, a journey lots of people begin but only an estimated ten percent actually get around to completing.

Now he has to reacquaint himself with walking horizontally over land again instead of over land that slopes, twists and curves precipitously up and down and around again.

The photos were all taken in Maine. Most of them feature Mt. Katahdin but some were taken a few days before Derek reached the summit.

More of Maine

Last I heard (about 2 weeks ago), Derek had just entered the state of Maine and was atop a mountain somewhere looking down on the world. The tops of mountains apparently have better cell phone reception than most other sections of the trail. Also, the view is better.

Upon our return home, my husband spent several days getting ready for Maine himself. Not only was he going to pick up Derek and drive him home, but he wanted to hike The Hundred Mile Wilderness with him. He left on Monday, July 29th. I last heard from him on Wednesday, July 31st (also from atop a mountain). Apparently one of his new hiking poles had snapped and he was surprised by how difficult the early part of the wilderness was. He said it was comparable to skiing a steep, icy mogul field with bad equipment. I can only guess he more than likely has absolutely no cell phone reception or he's hurt or a little of both. It's hard, waiting to hear, but what other choice do I have? I have a feeling everybody is fine and, in fact, having a good time. When they can call, they will. So, here I sit....waiting and wondering..

Onward to Maine

I spoke with Derek yesterday. He'd left his cell phone behind at one of the hostels so we weren't able to contact him for a while. When he finally did call, we were already in Michigan for my mom's funeral. He was shaken, to say the least, and took a zero (or a do nothing) day. My mom had been one of Derek's biggest supporters and was very proud of her grandson for not only graduating from college last year, but for his courage to follow through on his hike. She was also very proud of the articles he'd written for our local newspaper chronicling his journey (I'd been mailing her copies).

On speaking with Derek yesterday, he'd just entered the state of Maine and was about 25 miles into it. This is the last leg of his journey which ends at Mt. Katahdin Mt. Katahdin reaches a height of 5,268 feet and is the highest peak in the state. It's situated in Baxter State Park in an area known as the Hundred Mile Wilderness (not to be confused with The Hundred Acre Wood). The second highest peak, by the way, is Sugarloaf Mt. where we skied some years ago. While it only goes up to about 4300 feet, the temperature in the winter never seems to rise much above 10 degrees, especially at the top. Brrrr!

Is he looking forward to the end? Yes, but he said he's also going to miss lots of things -- the heartstopping scenery, the friends he's made etc. Maybe, when he gets home, he'll post something here on my blog.

Stopping Home

Last week, when Derek made his way into New York State, he called. Could he bring some friends home for a few days? Of course, we said. So, my husband drove to Harriman State Park and picked up him and three of his hiking friends, and brought them all here for a brief sojourn from their arduous journey. So, we had Widowmaker, Cheeze, Katerpillar, Matt and Udog ( possibly the most well behaved dog I've ever met) stay with us for a few days. Matt found Udog in a state park last year, beaten and starving. He took her in, had her spayed and nursed her back to health. Now she accompanies Matt on his hike along the AT. She even carries her own little doggie backpack containing her food and leash.

Cheeze hails from Wisconsin, home of the Cheeseheads, hence his name.

On his first night camping on the trail, Widowmaker pitched his tent under a dead tree. That night a storm toppled the tree onto his tent. He was all right but it a close call. He was immediately dubbed Widowmaker.

The guys camped out on our den floor, grateful for a hot shower, some home cooked meals and a chance to rest their weary feet. Derek took them across the bay to Sunken Forest, Fire Island where they gazed at the ocean and took a quick swim in the chilly salt water. Salt water, by the way, has wonderful healing powers and the dip in the ocean helped to heal their sore feet. If you think of the ocean as a big Epsom Salts bath and you get the general picture. On their last night here, Widowmaker, who attended cooking school, whipped up a chocolate mousse to die for and we treated them to a Long Island specialty -- spaghetti with Littleneck clam sauce. The next morning, Dennis drove them back to the trail and they continued on their trek northward.

Derek, by the way, is now in Vermont where last night the temperature plunged into the upper 30s. This is July? Today he'll be going over Bromley ski area -- a place we skiied as a family many years ago.

The Half Gallon Challenge

When Derek reached the halfway point along the AT - a place called Pine Grove Furnace State Park in Pennsylvania - he took the half gallon challenge. Apparently a little ice cream shop challenges the thru-hikers to eat a half gallon of their delicious ice cream. They have to pay for this, mind you. And what do the hikers get if they polish off the entire half gallon? They get stomach cramps and a free wooden spoon that says something like "The Half Gallon Challenge". Who could resist? Derek finished it but he didn't feel well afterward. Why do the hikers do this over and over when the only people who benefit from it are the owners of the ice cream shop? I can only think that it must be one of those Appalachian Trail rites of passage

Despite all the calories he ingested, he didn't gain an ounce. In fact, he's been having trouble maintaining his weight. When I last spoke with him last, he'd dropped from 132 to 120 pounds. He's naturally slim but that's thin even for him.

Anyhow, Derek called yesterday. He was at the Delaware Water Gap in New Jersey where he planned to stay the night at a hostel and eat a few slices of pizza. He says the closer he gets to New York, the better the pizza. Of course everybody knows New York has the best pizza! He still has many miles to go before he can he's finished -- much of it pretty tough going as he gets into Vermont and Maine.

May in Virginia

My AT hiking son, Derek, has made his way into Virginia. Last Sunday when he called home he was in Pearisburg, outside of Blacksburg (where Virgina Tech is located) -- almost one third of his way to his destination. His biggest enemy so far has been the weather. As the weather warms and the humidity levels increase, I suspect the enemy will morph into insects-- especially the notorious black fly. Black flies, as I recall, are renown for taking enormous bites. They're sort of the vampires of the insect kingdom.

The local newspaper that Derek's been writing for, The Suffolk County News, called yesterday. It seems their owners (I think the paper has been bought out by some conglomerate) are trying to become more solvent and so they're downsizing. Translation: they can no longer afford to pay Derek his whopping $50.00 per article salary. Not like it was a huge amount of money but it did help keep him afloat while out hiking. The looming question is now whether or not he'll want to continue writing his articles. I think he will. He's established a local group of readers. I know the Boy Scouts read his articles aloud at their meetings (Derek is an Eagle Scout). Our friends and neighbors read them, too.

By the way the Suffolk County News may now (finally) be accessed online at the following address: http://www.suffolkcountynews.net. It is free (yay!) but you do have to register, for some weird reason. His latest article is under the news division. I think it's on page 8. Check it out!

A Night On Bald Mountain and the Trail Angel

My mountain man, Derek, called this morning from Erwin, Tennessee. Two nights ago he'd hiked up to a shelter near the top of Bald Mountain (elevation 5500 ft.). The temperature, he said, had plummeted to about zero and so his water had frozen and his shoes -- and even his Snickers bars -- were blocks of ice. He had to hike a lot of miles before he finally warmed up.

While at the shelter, he looked at the log book. Sometimes the hikers leave messages for one another or comments about the scenery, weather conditions, things to look for, thoughts to ponder etc. There, spread across an entire page, was a message about an Easter Dinner that a so-called "trail angel" was hosting for the AT hikers. It was all you can eat- for free! So, Derek copied down the phone number and, when he came to a place with good phone reception, gave the kind angel a call. She picked him up in her truck and brought him to the church where he and about 60 other hikers had gathered for dinner. And eat they did! When you're hiking 12-20 miles a day, you work up a healthy appetite.

Apparently there are many trail angels along the route, people who pass out sandwiches, fruit salad, and even omelettes to the hikers passing through. What a generous thing to do. In a world crowded with too many ugly stories about war, hunger, savagery and neglect it's nice to hear of people performing selfless acts of kindness for total strangers.

Angels don't necessarily wear wings or halos. Sometimes they can look like our next door neighbors.

The Road Less Traveled

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

So concludes Frost's poem, "The Road Not Taken", one of my favorites.

Why do I want to be an author of children's books, of all things? When I tell people my plans, they often look at me and say, "Better stick to being a librarian" or "Yeah, maybe one day I'll write a kid's book, too" as though nothing could be easier. In reality, writing a book that will captivate a child's imagination is a daunting task. Trying to get one published seems nearly impossible. Where to begin?

Well, as I told my son when he began questioning the feasibility of thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail, you start at the beginning and take one small step at a time. If you stop to think about how long it will take to cover over 2,100 miles, you'll be overwhelmed and perhaps never finish. In my quest to become an author, that is, after all, what I do; I take one step at a time.

For Derek, the beginning started long before the drive down to the approach trail in Georgia. It began months ago with some background reading. He researched the history of the trail, read thru-hiker's journals, took notes on the supplies he'd need, where to camp, how to deal with bears and what obstacles he might encounter. To get in shape, he started running. He made certain he bought lightweight, water resistant clothing and equipment. And he boxed and stockpiled loads of food for us to mail to various towns along the trail.

Becoming a writer requires self-education, too. Even though I write almost daily, I also read a great deal -- children's books, books about characterization, dialogue, plotting and thematic development, books about where to submit and how to get published. I subscribe to a professional writing journal and attend writing conferences from time to time. And I belong to a wonderful critique group who has helped me immensely. Still, I'm not there yet. Neither is Derek. But, with every day he spends on the trail, he gets closer to his goal. He knows, as well as I, that a lot of people begin the journey but few actually finish. It is, after all, an arduous undertaking.

Each of my tiny successes brings me closer to my goal too. How's that? Well, without them, I'd probably never have the will to keep plugging away. Every time I get something else published, I know I must be doing something right. So, I keep at it, one step at a time. Despite the rejections, the occasional feelings of unworthiness and, at times, the long upward climb, I keep at it.

Ramblings

Some people are compelled to do things and go places nearly every waking moment of their lives - climb Mount McKinley, tour South America, raft the Colorado River. We have an acquaintance who felt compelled to run a marathon on each continent - even Antarctica. His scariest marathon, he said, was the one he ran in Africa. Armed guards were posted along the route to protect the runners from any wild animals that might decide to have them for lunch.

My eldest son, Derek, is getting ready to hike the Appalachian Trail. Next weekend, my husband will drive him down to Georgia where he will begin his long trek northward along the spiny back of the Appalachian Mountains to Maine - more than 2,100 miles! As a mother, I worry. Will he have enough to eat? Will he get hurt? Will he tangle with any bears? I can't let myself think about everything that might go wrong, else I will drive myself crazy. Yes, I wish I could protect my sons from every danger they encounter but, at the same time, I know those struggles make them stronger people, better equipped to deal with the bigger obstacles life hurls in their path

Every two weeks, Derek will be writing an article about his observations and adventures for Sayville's local newspaper, The Suffolk County News. He just had his first article published. It focused on the the history of the AT and his personal goals and expectations. I must say, he did a nice job! My sister, Vicky, has a degree in journalism and my dad worked as a reporter for The Manchester Guardian in England when he was young . Perhaps Derek, too, has the writing bug. At any rate, onward and upward. I'll keep an update on his long walk over the following months.