Oh Canada

Long Trail thru-hike is complete!

Northern Vermont

Red and I are three days from the Canadian border. Two if the terrain wasn't what it is: strenuous, wet, rocky, muddy and steep. While climbing a particularly steep section of trail going up Mount Mansfield, I stopped to look at an expansive view. It was a rare sunny day. I secured myself from falling by sticking my fingertips in cracks in the rocks. "I could die right here." I said quietly to myself "I love this." I wasn't using hyperbole, like when someone says they are so happy they could just die. I meant, I need to watch my step.

Backpacking Advice

I've hiked roughly 2,700 miles since I bought my first backpack about five years ago. I feel like I can safely call myself an experienced backpacker. But like anything, no matter how much knowledge you accumulate there is more to learn and others that know more than you, so I'm always interested in hearing about new ideas and experiences. That being said, I still love the bad advice we get from non-experienced backpackers.

Last December I was sitting in a fast food chain stuffing my face with discustingly delicious food when an odd looking woman stopped at my table.

"You hiking the Appalachian Trail?" she asked. I looked at the make-up covered wrinkles on her face and thin penciled-in lines where her eyebrows used to be. I smiled and said, "Yup."

"Isn't it cold up there this time of year?" she said.

"Yeah, it's cold," I said. "But not intolerable yet."

"You know what you can do to stay warm?" she said. I hoped for new ideas. Truth is, I was freezing my ass off up there. "Get one of them really big trash bags. They make them really big ones that come all the way up to here," she said while miming pulling the trash bag up to her chest.

"My husband and I go to DisneyWorld for three days every year," she said. "We sleep in our van in the parking lot. One night I got real cold, so he told me to get into the trash bag. It kept me warm all night."

"Alright. I'll keep that in mind," I said, preventing myself from pointing out that December in the Smoky Mountains is a bit colder than Orlando any time of year.

I suppose that wasn't really "bad" advice. More like relativetly useless advice. Not unlike earlier in this trip when Red and I were stopped on a sidewalk in a town by a man wearing a sweatsuit.

"You guys hiking the Long Trail? Watch out for Bigfoot up there," he said sincerely while running his fingers through his messy oily hair. "He's been spotted up there."

"Alright, alright," Red said. "We'll keep that in mind."

"Man, I'd love to catch that Bigfoot myself. You know how rich you'd be if you caught him?" he said. "And famous?"

"Oh man, yeah," Red said politely. "We'll keep our eyes out for him."

A couple days later, we were in another fast food chain. An elderly man wearing glasses with lenses like magnifying glasses stopped at our table on his way to the restroom.

"You guys hiking the Long Trail?" he asked. It was late in the day and we told him we were about to head back up there that night.

"You hike up there at night?" he asked. His eyes grew even larger behind the magnifying lenses. He got a worried look on his face. His mouth hanging open, his cheeks drooping from his face like a Basset Hound's. "You gotta be careful with all that wildlife up there at night. The forests are filled with dangerous nocturnal animals... like otters."

"Otters, really?" we said.

"Yeah, they'll come at you," he said. "They bite."

I've been warned numerous times about bears coming into my camp. I've been told to watch out for wild boars charging down the trails. Nobody has ever warned me about the predatory nature of nocturnal river otters.

Occasionally I do get good advice and I love that, but honestly, I'm enjoying the bad advice much more. Keep it coming America.


An Unexpected Celebration

It rained for three straight days. For several miles, the trail turned into cascading streams and mud so thick that it frequently tried to pull the shoes off your feet. Two streams swelled into rivers and required fording with careful steps and getting our legs soaked in cold water. Needless to say, Red and I were ready for a town visit. At the road, a man named Bob stopped to give us a ride. He was going toward a town that was 35 minutes out of our way and in the wrong direction.

"Alright, let's do it," Red said without getting my opinion and picked up his pack. He turned to me and said, "It'll work out, man."

"Oh, I know it will. It always does," I said and grabbed my pack. When we have no expectations, and are easy to please, everything always works out.

Red and I just wanted to get out of the rain, dry our clothes, and get food, so asked to be dropped off at any cheap hotel or fast food place. We talked the entire 35 minutes and learned that Bob shared our love of the trail. He's a full-time financial advisor, but also a part-time forester and has built over 200 miles of state trails, mostly by himself.

When I told Bob I just officially finished my thru-hike of the AT, he got an excitement to his voice and told us we needed to celebrate. He dropped us off at a fancy lodge and handed us enough cash to cover the room and a steak dinner. I told him he didn't have to do that and almost turned it away, but I'm getting better at letting a stranger do a nice thing for me, because I know how it makes me feel when I can do a nice thing for a stranger.

And celebrate we did. We stuffed ourselves with steak, fresh veggies, wine, and dessert at the fantastic lodge resaurant. As I said before, everything always works out when I have no expectations, but I am still surprised every time. Thank you Bob!

Manchester Center VT

We made it to Manchester Center and Spruce Peak Cabin. Now the 50-mile section of the AT in the Green Mountains, that we were forced to skip after getting hurricaned, is complete!