Mass Redemption

As an addendum to our post about Great Barrington, it seems the rest of Massachusetts does not suffer from such indifference to hikers. As a matter of fact, we love New England now. So much we're moving quite slowly through it.

First Wife: you're absolutely right. New Englanders have been nothing but wonderful to us since the debacle in G.B.. Apparrently Tanglewood, the usual theatre stuff, and an arts fest were all going on that weekend, so we must've just hit town at the wrong time. It's really our own fault for banking on a shower without calling ahead. We really ought to get a phone.

Many thanks to Rob at the Bird Cage in Dalton, MA, with whom we spent several days and to whom we are especially grateful for the wonderful hospitality. To all hikers: If you're passing through Dalton, definitely check out the Bird Cage, which is Rob's house. Go to the Sunoco station in town and ask the attendant how to get there (Rob owns the gas station, and the folks there usually know how to get in touch with him). Thanks also to Mountan Squid for all the rides and the good company.

And thanks most recently to our friends Jack, Tim, and Irene - though not New Englanders, they are Englishes, so I suppose that's close enough. They came to visit us in VT with their RV, and we camped with them for several nights. In the daytime they hiked a bit with us, then slackpacked us so we could keep the miles up. In the evenings we ate, drank, and relaxed at a number of campgrounds between Manchester Center and Killington. Many thanks for your hospitality and an excellent time.

Where are our photos?

We've had no luck in locating a computer where we can upload our photos to the website. But we have some great shots! We think that the next hostel we stay at might have a computer that would work. So stay tuned for those. As it stands we are plugging our way through Vermont, with the help of Jack, Tim and Irene the Poodle. They just left us this morning, as they travel on towards Maine. As they are traveling in a camper, they will arrive much sooner than we will. However, we have reached the 500 mile mark - that is to say, we have less than 500 miles to go before Mt. Katahdin. We've been meeting lots more Southbounders, as well as those hiking Vermont's Long Trail. Our health and spirits are good, and we are looking forward to the White Mountains, where it snows in July!

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Shout out to those following this blog...

We'd like to say thank you to the staff of the Allison Park Post Office, who help my parents with the mail drops. We couldn't do it without you!

Also, get well soon to First Wife, we were so relieved to hear that you are on the mend!

To those who are reading, don't be shy about leaving comments, so we know who you are. It gives us motivation to continue! Click on "comments" which is at the bottom of the post. If you don't have an account and password you can click the button that says Other or Anonymous, and you don't have to enter one.

Vermont: Slippery When Wet

After climbing the final mountain in Massachusetts, Mt. Greylock, in fog and heavy rain, we crossed another state line and began our journey through the Green Mountains. Here, the AT joins the Long Trail, the grand-daddy of long distance trails. Vermont is lovely and green and lush...and very, very muddy. Several days of rain had not yet soaked into the ground the trail still had standing water, as well as vast, black mud pits that made a distinctive "sploosh" noise as our boots sank in. Last weekend was dry and warm, and in addition to enjoying a marvelous view from a fire tower, we also enjoyed the trail drying out a bit. By Monday, however, it began to rain again...a fine misty rain that seemed to fall from the sky and rise from the earth all at once. My glasses fogged enough to turn Vermont into a blurry, enchanted-looking forest; I half-expected an aged wizard or tiny gnome to appear through the mist.

We began to meet some southbounders this week - almost 600 miles into their journey from Katahdin to Springer. They have endured three solid weeks of rain. We treat each other with equal amounts of admiration - they admire us for the sheer duration of our journey (almost 1,600 miles), we admire them because they have traversed the most difficult terrain of the AT.

We're stripping down our packs again to reduce weight and prepare for the upcoming 4,000 foot climbs, so Mom and Dad, expect to get some more packages of random hiking gear we thought we needed. Some items already discarded include a 16 oz bottle of Mr. Bubbles, a James Brown CD, 200 feet of rope, and a 10 X 12 tarp.

We're about to link up with Jack and Tim (Jack's dad), who will hopefully help us to get moving through Vermont, a la slackpack.

Connecticut - Massachusetts

After we left Kent, we made it several miles up and over a mountain in rather high temperatures (naturally we left Kent at high noon, just in time for the worst heat). Luckily for us, there was a lengthy section of the trail along the Ten Mile River, which was very level and easy walking. When we stopped for dinner at the shelter, we discovered that we could easily make it into Cornwall Bridge, where we stayed at the Hitching Post Motel, and waited out some rain, which ended up being not that bad in that area, but flooded parts of Vermont. After resting in Cornwall Bridge, we really turned on our jets in the hopes of making some noticeable progress through New England. We did two 20+ mile days, including a day from the Plateau Campsite near Salisbury, CT up and over three rather steep and difficult climbs over Lions Head and Bear Mountain, Race Mountain and Mt. Everett, which offered beautiful views over the valleys and towards the Catskill Mountains. We walked past a race track that Paul Newman reportedly used at one point. It was strange to be walking through the forest and listening to the sounds of cars racing around in circles.

Once in Massachusetts, we intended to stop at Great Barrington, and I'll let M tell the story of why it is now known as Awful Barrington. Needless to stay, we did not get a shower there, as we wanted. It all worked out in the end, though, because we ended up taking two shorter days to get to Upper Goose Pond Cabin, where they actually cook you pancakes for breakfast! At the cabin, we were reunited with a hiker, Golden Boy, who started from Springer Mountain the very same day we did, but we haven't seen since Port Clinton, PA. He convinced us to do a 20 mile day into Dalton, MA, and I'm really glad this is the town we ended up stopping in. We are staying at the famous Bird Cage hostel - not published in any official ATC books, but well-known by trail folk, nonetheless. The owner of the hostel, Rob, is a great guy - very cheerful and funny and he knows exactly what hikers want. We got a fantastic shower, clean laundry, clothes to wear while our laundry was being done (because who wants to wear rain gear in 90 degree weather while you're waiting for your undies to dry?), and a comfortable bed. Rob has a very large lab/pit mix named Tinker, who is very friendly.

Our plan is to take a few days to get into Vermont, where we will meet up with our friend from Pittsburgh, Jack and his dad, Tim.

The AT is definitely getting harder, and I have to admit that the thought of coming home now crosses my mind more than once a day. After all, we've already walked 1,554 miles over amazing country, met wonderful people, and had the adventure of a lifetime. Do I really need to see Vermont and New Hampshire and Maine? Whenever I see thunderheads piling up on the horizon, and we are about to head over a ridge, I think, if I were at home I would not be so concerned about getting struck by lightning. When it has been five days since my last shower and my hiking clothes are stiff and white with salt streaks, I remember a time when I put on clean clothes...every day. During lunch breaks of hummus or peanut butter on tortillas - which we have been eating every day for almost five months - I dream of salad. And when I'm going up a mountain that seems to last forever, sweating so profusely that my eyes sting and my nose starts to bleed from the salt I am inhaling, I think that it is not possible for me to be doing this. However, it is really hard to quit hiking on the side of the mountain. No place to go...you may as well just go over the stupid thing and quit on the other side where there is a town or a road. Luckily, by the time I summit the mountain, my spirits are lifted and I no longer want to quit. I want to keep going. I want to get to Maine.

Not-So-Great Barrington (and points north)

"Sorry Hon, It's the Berkshires".

I never thought that sentence would pass my ears, let alone break my heart. As it were, we'd hightailed a couple of long, tough, high-mile days out of Connecticut in the summer heat, all in the hopes of obtaining inexpensive laundry, shower, bed, and maybe even some continental B in the heart of western Massachusetts as a lowly reward. Up and over Lion's Head, then Bear Mountain (CT), then Mount Everett and on through the mosquito clouded boggy mess below. Down treacherous slick rock descents and through ankle-deep mud. All we thought of was the rest and satiety that was to come from food and sleep. In town.

Alas, Great Barrington was NOT 1.8 miles from the trail crossing, as our trusted Thru-Hikers Companion instructed. Perhaps the very edge of town, but there wasn't much there until at least 3 miles or so. Perhaps it just seemed farther from the sun-induced fatigue, or the ample quantity of blood so lovingly donated to New England's burgeoning mosquito population. No affluent Berkshire-visiting New-Englanders so much as slowed down for the outstretched thumbs of what must have looked like a couple of smelly vagrants with really nice outdoors gear. Was it possible our beloved book could lead us so astray?

Upon reaching the 'town' part of town, we waited patiently for the man at the counter of the Days Inn to berate a customer on the telephone, and for two other cleanish parties to check in. We asked hopefully if there were any rooms left, to which the reply was, "I've got two rooms left, they're double-queens, and smoking. By which I mean SMOKING.". Clearly we were not welcome. Perhaps our rude appearance had been interpreted as an affront. "How much?"... "$185. Plus Tax.". My heart sank for the second time (first being the longer than anticipated road walk). The whole reason we'd made the non-inconsequential trip in was that the book quoted rates in town from $55 to $70. No mention of multi-hundred dollar Days Inn was made. We left to seek out better options.

Fortunately, our saving grace was within sight. A kiosk! For Visitors! We were certainly these. I went inside, waited for some overweight retired-looking men to finish discussing cigars, wine, and theater with each other, and approached the operator of the kiosk. Was the Days Inn an abberation? It seemed not. Was there anywhere else? The whole town was full, except maybe one motel, way on the other side of town. The Kiosk-operator kindly phoned the hotel's owner, explained the presence of two weary, light-pocketed hikers, and he asked how much we wanted to pay. Not knowing what to say, I stared blankly. Lowest he could go would be $125. Cab fare to and from the other end of town, plus paying for breakfast would certainly make up the difference between this and the other lodging we had already declined. And that's when the kiosk-er uttered the abhorrent and unexpected sentence.

So Great Barrington turned out to be not-so-great. Or perhaps Awful, as I shall heretofore refer to this pricey little slice of yuppie hell for all time to come. Awful Barrington. I blame the wealthy, for the sheer economics of being willing to pay $200 to hang out in a glorified air-conditioned truckstop motel in the Massachusetts hills. I blame the Thru-Hikers Companionfor it's misleading mileages and rate-quotes (how was I supposed to know that 'higher weekends' meant 'triple-to-quadruple price'?).

But mostly I blame myself, for putting so much stock in a town stay. Showers and laundry are overrated anyhow. You're dirty and sweat-drenched within 20 minutes of hitting the trail. And in the end, it all worked out well... The Corn Crib, Upper Goose Pond Cabin, and Dalton are fantastic. Many thanks to all. Except you, Awful Barrington.

Some Special Events

There are some special events going on at home that we celebrate from afar. First, a very Happy Birthday to both Jamie and Danna. It would be hard for us to be any farther from you physically and still be in the same country, but we are thinking about you!

Congratulations to my cousin, Ryan, who graduated from high school recently. Have a great senior summer and good luck in college!

Also, congratulations to M's sister Mary, who just got her first post-college job. We know you'll do well!

Shout Out...

Thanks to No Worries for the "trail gossip" phone message - we miss you and Blazer, and hope to run into you again sometime.

I Know We Said NYC Was the Last Diversion, But...

My long-lost cousin Logan lives in Connecticut now, and he drove to the far reaches of the state to bring us from the trail to civilization. When I think that we could be sitting on a rock somewhere in 95 degree heat, mosquitoes drowning in our sweat (after they bite us, of course), but instead are in an air-conditioned apartment in Hartford (after spending the afternoon in a swimming pool), I am even more grateful than usual for my wonderful family.

I think Logan takes the cake for making the longest drive to the trail to get us. This is sort of our fault, as we thought Connecticut was a rather small state. However, we did not realize that Hartford is pretty much as far as you can get from Kent, and still be in Connecticut. Upon arriving in Kent, CT, Logan exclaimed, "this is all Kent has to offer?!" This of course, in reference to the giant cow statues at the main crossroads of the town.

Despite the lengthy drive, we had a great time catching up on the way here, and it was wonderful to hear all the exciting new things that Logan is doing. We are about to go eat some Italian food with Logan and his girlfriend, Shannon. Stay tuned for more adventures.