Bog log on the Appalachian Trail

Though the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plane, it seems as though a bit has fallen in Maine, which brings me to my [...]]]> I wrote this about two weeks into my Appalachian Trail thru-hike. There’s nothing more bracing them putting on wet hiking clothes first thing in the morning!  -JP

My Wet T-shirt

Bog log on the Appalachian Trail

Though the rain in Spain
falls mainly on the plane,
it seems as though
a bit has fallen in Maine,
which brings me to my moment of pain,
of putting you on,
My Wet T-shirt.

This lack of sunshine,
means my clothesline
don’t work as well as it should.
You can’t drip-dry at night,
which would be to my delight,
as I think of donning you,
My Wet T-shirt.

Yes we’ve been friends
through snow, sleet and ice.
Sometimes I think
a portable dryer would be nice,
to warm you up a bit,
just a bit would suffice,
to knock the edge off of you,
My Wet T-shirt

There’s really no way
to make this thing better.
Try it slow, try it fast
you just feel wetter and wetter.
But you’re mine, all mine,
and that’s just fine by me.
It’s just you and me,
My Wet T-shirt.

Here’s a set of photo’s from my southbound thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail (AT) in 2000. This hike totalled about 2,165 miles from July 1, 2000 through January 11, 2001.

I was quite glad to drag myself off Springer Mountain, Georgia, but it was a true life-changing experience. There’s no way I would have gone back to grad school, paddled the Mississippi River, or started a PhD program if I hadn’t spent those six months on the AT.

I still think about this trip almost every day, and am currently analyzing the data from a thru-hiker study I began last year. This has turned out to be the largest dataset of thru-hikers ever conducted, representing over one million miles of thru-hiking on the AT.

Just click on the large photo to scroll through. This set is also available on our Flickr page

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Going [...]]]> I ran across the series of newspaper articles I wrote for the Greensboro News and Record during my Appalachian Trail thru-hike in 2000 while going through some old boxes of stuff at the house. I scanned and snagged the text with Adobe Acrobat, and they’re now posted under the Appalachian Trail Thru-hike Journals category.

Going back and reading these almost eight years later, I realize that that thru-hike is largely responsible for many, many changes in my life. I never would have gone to grad school, started a PhD, or paddled the Mississippi River if I didn’t take that six months of my life to walk from Maine to Georgia. Things change, relationships have come and gone, but one things remains the same – I’m not the same person that stood on top of Kathadin, some 2000 miles from home, wondering what I’ve gotten myself into.

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Well, this journey has finally come to an end. I woke up at 5 am to hike the final 2.5 miles to the top of Springer Mountain on 1/11. I reached the top in plenty of time to watch my final sunrise of the trip. [...]]]> January 24, 2001
Morehead City, North Carolina
End of the Trail
Mile 2,165

Well, this journey has finally come to an end. I woke up at 5 am to hike the final 2.5 miles to the top of Springer Mountain on 1/11. I reached the top in plenty of time to watch my final sunrise of the trip. Even after seeing many sunrises in the past six months, nothing could prepare me for the sweet beauty that I was fortunate enough to witness that morning. To sum up everything, I reached the top where there are two plaques signifying the southern terminus of the trail and pretty much just fell apart. The last few days were much like that. Either I was laughing to myself, grinning, or getting a little misty eyed at the prospect that I’d be finished soon. Here’s a little stuff from my journal that I wrote immediately after I reached the top.

“At 5:40am I left Stover Creek Shelter. I’ve just come across the plaque on top of Springer. Right now I’m just savoring the moment, watching the sun come up in the east. In this moment between day and night everything seems to be perfect. When I got to the top I just broke out into tears, not of sadness but of joy. The walk this morning was awesome. Just a great stroll in the woods, not in a hurry anymore. Slipped and fell in the ice to keep me human. Something I’ve really come to love is watching sunrises and sunsets, and walking just by the light of the moon. The moon this morning gave me just enough light through the trees to walk by. So many memories flashing by right now. Summitting Katahdin with Anne”

It’s been almost two weeks since I stood atop Springer Mountain and I’m just now starting to feel like I’m gaining some sort of perspective on this whole thing. Sometimes it still doesn’t seem real to me, like this trip on the Appalachian Trail had been a long, long dream which I’ll eventually wake up from. Dream or not, the whole experience has been simply the most incredibly rich experience that I’ve ever had. Trying to encapsulate everything without constantly repeating “incredible”, “awesome”, “overwhelming”, or any other superlative adverbs isn’t coming very easy to me as well. Here’s my stab at it though.

The 67 miles remaining from the last time I wrote went off pretty much without a hitch. There was still a bit of snow and ice on the ground from the previous few storms, but no more of the foot-deep variety to wade through. The last couple of days the trail was clear for the most parts, with just a few patches of thicker ice that’ll probably be there God only knows when. The north side of Blood Mountain was one big chunk of ice about a foot thick in places, but the view coming up from Neel’s Gap was incredible. (There’s that word again, you have to forgive me.)

The last two days fortunately was warm enough to relax and really enjoy the moment without having to wear 17 layers of clothes. Very nice. I did get a little bit of freezing rain coming down from Springer on the last day. Seemed to be appropriate though. It was like God said (insert Mr.T voice) “I pity the fool who hikes out here in the winter! SMACK!! What you doin’ out here fool? You didn’t like that that snowstorm in the Smokies? SMACKl! Here’s something to remind you who’s the boss! SMACK SMACK!!!”

One of the locals said that it was the coldest winter in 40 years for their area. I wasn’t in any kind of position to argue against that. My body is just now getting completely thawed out, much to my relief. I can’t say it’s not nice to just be warm whenever I want to without much effort on my part. Getting a little chilly tonight? Pull up a quilt. Nice, very nice.

I thought the transition from the trail to back in the “Real World” wouldn’t be that big of a deal. For the most part it’s gone ok, but some things are still a bit weird for me right now. This whole transition process actually started on Springer. When you get to the top of the mountain, you’re still about 8.5 miles from anywhere so my hiking had just started for the day. When I got my pack on to go, I looked around to find the next white blaze when I realized that there were no more white blazes to follow as I was no longer on the AT. That’s kind of how I feel about life in general right now.

The simplicity of the trail has been left behind to delve back into the kind of chaos that we sometimes make our lives. As I was packing the clothes I had not seen in months to move to Morehead City, the whole absurdity of the situation hit me. The whole time I was on the trail I could fit all my clothes into a bag about the size of a bread bag, and now I could barely fit my belongings into three huge boxes! Ridiculous. I don’t know if I’m all that crazy about that whole prospect, but I’m damned determined to not put myself back into the craziness of everything without a fight. It would be a complete failure on my part to not utilize anything I’ve learned from the trail in my daily life.

The big question – What Now?

I mentioned before that I’ve moved to Morehead City. Anne had moved down here to accept a job while I was gone so to me coming here was a no-brainer. I hadn’t seen her for about four months so there was no way I was staying in Greensboro! I’ve come to this realization that my surroundings really have a huge effect on me. I either need to live in the mountains or at the coast. This whole in-between stuff isn’t going to work for me right now. Right now I’m just getting to feel the lay of the land, but am actively looking for a job. Looking at my ziplock bag that I used as my wallet on the trail (and still do – can’t find the wallet) I’ve have about $2.48. OK, maybe not that bad, but I may have to sell a kidney or spleen or something on Ebay if I don’t get back to work soon.

What I’ll probably do for the first few months will be something that doesn’t require any sort of résumé’ (Would you like fries with that?) while I make my contacts in the area. Who knows? At some point I’ll be jumping back into the academic world I’m sure. Maybe I’ll give this writing gig a spin. As far as what the next little jaunt Anne and I go on, we’re playing with a couple of different ideas. Maybe the Pacific Crest Trail (think the west coast version of the Appalachian Trail, Canada to Mexico -2700 miles). Maybe a cross-country bike trip. Maybe a sea-kayaking trip from North Carolina to the Florida Keys. It’ll take a couple of years at least to be in the position for us to do anything but it can’t hurt to dream now, right? It only took 10 years to actually get on the AT.

Looking back, the mile I’m most proud of on this whole trip was the very first one. I remember watching Anne’s mother and grandmother driving off in Maine and thinking, “I can’t believe I’m finally out here.” Yeah, that first step was sweet. Well, I’m going to roll. It’s been a pleasure writing this article and sharing my experience with everyone. I hope that you’ve gotten something from it. Everybody’s trip is different and I’ve just tried to relate what I went through. I’ve had my highest highs, my lowest lows, and everything in between in the past few months. The heat, snow, ice, mosquitoes, rain, hail, sunshine, joy, sadness, and everything else combined to make this journey something I’ll never forget.

Until next time,

-Johnny Swank

Hey ya’ll – just wanted to throw out a quick note saying that I climbed Springer Mountain in Georgia to watch the sun rise, thus finishing my journey on the Appalachian Trail.

What a fantastic way to end the trip. I’m still kind of in this state of overwhelming bliss, [...]]]> Jan 11, 2001
Springer Mountain, Georgia
Mile 2,165

Hey ya’ll – just wanted to throw out a quick note saying that I climbed Springer Mountain in Georgia to watch the sun rise, thus finishing my journey on the Appalachian Trail.

What a fantastic way to end the trip. I’m still kind of in this state of overwhelming bliss, fatique, awe, and total joy. Right not, I’m still too wound up to make any sort of sense of all this, but I’ll get out all the details soon.

Take care,

-Johnny Swank

Hiawassee, Georgia

I’m sitting in a Laundromat in Hiawassee, Ga., making a laughingly vain attempt to get the funk out of my clothes. Having not seen a washing machine in more than a week, all my clothes, not to mention myself, were in dire need of a thorough cleaning.

Jan 7, 2001

Hiawassee, Georgia

I’m sitting in a Laundromat in Hiawassee, Ga., making a laughingly vain attempt to get the funk out of my clothes. Having not seen a washing machine in more than a week, all my clothes, not to mention myself, were in dire need of a thorough cleaning.

I don’t know much about Hiawassee other than: It’s located in north Georgia; the entire town seemingly shuts down on Sundays; and most importantly – it’s about 67 miles from Springer Mountain and the end of my journey.

The weather the past few days has been beautiful, with highs at times reaching 40 degrees. I knew my sense of temperature was gone when, while seeing my thermometer read 25 degrees the other morning, I was thinking, “Today’s going to be a scorcher.”

One thing this trip has taught me is that everything is just a matter of perspective and attitude. If I can feel my fingers and toes, then everything’s cool. (God that’s a horrible pun, but again, I’m just going to roll with it.)

Right now I’m wearing my last pair of semi-clean but very dark socks. My theory is that they’ll act as little heat sinks on my feet, soaking up and storing all those blessed BTUs for the coming days. Only time will tell how much this dubious plan will work.

Another thing I’ve learned out here on the tundra of the AT is the awesome power of man’s ability to reset and adapt to the Harshness of his environment. Case in point: One night a few weeks ago, a few hikers and I were talking about the sometimes gruesome reality of having to leave the relative warmth of your sleeping bag to go to the bathroom (Bathrooms? How about the woods?) in the middle of the night.

The only way I can describe this most horrible event is analogous to going back through the birth process again, leaving the warmth and security of your sleeping bag to go out into the shockingly cold, cruel world. Indeed, when it’s 5 degrees outside and the wind is howling, it is truly like getting a. smack on the butt. Many, many nights I’ve stayed in my bag for what seemed like hours in self-denial that my bladder was the size of a basketball, yet unable to will myself out of my sleeping bag. “Should I stay or should I go now?” I think, “If I stay, there’s no way I’ll be able to sleep, even while gritting my teeth until I have a headache. If I go, I will surely freeze” I bounced around a few ideas.

• Stop drinking water – no bathroom needed. Upside: Get to stay in sleeping .bag. Downside: Death by dehydration.

• Get fitted with catheter and associated ankle bag. Upside: Get to stay in bag. Downside: Line to bag may freeze, causing blockage and severe discomfort; unbalanced walking from only having a bladder bag on one ankle.

• Purchase one extra water bottle. Urinate in bottle as necessary at night. Upside: Get to stay in bag. Downside: Emptying bottle in morning; mistaking said bottle for drinking water in middle of night, leading to foul breath or worse.

I met two hearty souls yesterday at a shelter. They had started their own thruhikes heading northbound on New Year’s Day. I gave them such scholarly, sage advice as, “Dude, don’t sweat this hike. Just take your time and be flexible.” Also, “Hey man, you’ve got to get off the trail and hit the all-you-can-eat buffet at the Shoney’s in Franklin. It rocks.”

It’s interesting to see some folks going through the same doubts, questions and considerations at the beginning of their journeys as I did. This whole trip has been one long learning experience, not only about the nuts and bolts of functioning on the trail, but more importantly and more valuable, about myself. I’ll elaborate on this later when I’m finished, but for me the journey on “the trail between the ears” has been as meaningful if not more so than the trail itself.

I finally crossed my last state border into Georgia yesterday. It wasn’t much of a crossing, just a small sign tacked to a tree near Bly Gap. No brass band. No fireworks. Regis Philbin wasn’t even there to interview me. None of that was necessary, though. Just the rush of coming across that line after many months of effort was reward enough. I hope I didn’t wake any bears with my hollering.

Honestly, it did feel great. I sort of visualized in my mind that I might be sort of bummed out at the prospect of this signal of the trip coming closer to finality, but that hasn’t come to pass. Like all things, this journey too must come to an end, at least in the physical sense.

Emotionally, I almost feel the journey is just beginning, like a huge door of possibilities I’ve always held within myself has just opened. It intrigues me to actually see and acknowledge that thought. As I’ve said, being out here has given me copious amounts of time to think, to feel and to breathe in life and become much more aware of myself and my place in the universe.

The snow that once completely covered the hills is starting to recede a bit. Below 3,500 feet, I’m actually walking on bare ground for the most part. I’ve become much more aware of which side of the mountain the trail crosses. On the side with a southern exposure, much of the snow and ice has almost completely melted away, while the more northerly exposures have seen little change. This makes it a little difficult to estimate how long a given mile will take to cover, but most of the time erring to the more conservative time usually pans out.

My worst-case scenario puts me at the end of the trail about 4 or 5 days from now. I almost cringe to even say that, but if this little stretch of warmer weather holds, everything should work out fine. Or as a buddy of mine I’ve met out here (Companero) and I say, “No matter what happens, it’s going to work out.”

The rain that was forecasted has come in with a vengeance. It should clear out by tomorrow afternoon though. All this rain will either:

• Help melt some more of the snow off, making hiking easier.

• Freeze solid at night, resulting in me doing a 65-mile ice skating race a la Eric Heiden.

The only certainty is that I will be very, very damp for the next couple of days. Wet possibly, but damp certainly.

This section of trail is blessed with several outstanding views. In particular, the summits at Wayah Bald, Albert Mountain and Standing Indian Mountain were spectacular. My favorite, though, was probably from the observation tower at Wesser Bald. In and of itself, the view was impressive, but I happened to hike across the top just at sunset to the most remarkable display of colors I’ve seen in a long, long time. The deep reds, vibrant oranges, and many shades of purple came together in an intense mixture that seemed to shimmer and melt into each other. Very cool. Very cool indeed.

I took several photographs, but a picture can’t capture that perfect moment in time. After watching the sun go down, I still had five miles to cover. These miles seemed to fly by. The temperature started to fall in its familiar pattern. The wind stayed calm, so much so that every footstep in snow magnified in intensity. I could feel the beating of my heart my lungs filing with air, and every part of my body felt so incredibly alive.

Hiking late in the day like that often brings me such moments. Dawn and dusk have been my favorite times of the day to hike, although the prospect of leaving my sleeping bag before the sun comes up doesn’t seem likely to happen again anytime soon.

Well, the laundry’s done and so am I. I just about smell April fresh for the moment. One advantage of being out here when It s cold is that the cold keeps the funk down. Mind you – not all funk is bad funk. George Clinton sees to that, but James Brown got there first

Anyway, I’m going to hike to the Mexican restaurant in town now and pound down something like 100,000 calories, if I can. Sounds like a plan.

Take care,

-Johnny Swank

Hey ya’ll,

First off: 1) I’m not dead 2) I’m [...]]]> On the way back to Fontana Village
12/30/2000
Mile 2,000-something or other

*This was written on a Greyhound bus on the way back to the trail. I went home for a few days off at Christmas to wait out some miserably cold weather. -JP

Hey ya’ll,

First off:
1) I’m not dead
2) I’m not done
3) I haven’t quit

Where to begin this update? Right now I’m on a Greyhound bus heading towards Asheville. How I got to Fontana Dam, NC is a long story. Just getting from Hot Springs, NC to Fontana Village, NC is a long story. I’ll try and be brief, so bear with me.

I left Hot Springs, late as usual, with a full belly and little daylight to work with. I’ve been having the hardest time getting out of towns lately. Must be something to do with the fact that its warm there, there’s plenty of food, and I can get to a payphone at will to call friends and family back home. By the way –let me tell you how tired I’ve gotten of payphones on this trip. Man, it’s going to be cool to not have to stand outside in the rain to make phone calls. Before I get too far off-topic, let me continue with the Hot Springs story…

As I was leaving Hot Springs, I had made the decision to just suck it up and power down the remaining miles and get finished by New Year’s Eve. Seeing as it’s 12/20 today, and I’ve still got 160-something miles to go, I’m going to have to get my hiking mojo workin’ if I’m going to make it to Spring Mountain tomorrow. Somehow, I just don’t see it happening.

Every time I’ve set a finish date I’ve ended up changing it so what else is new? Right now I’m thinking Chinese New Year, Groundhog Day, Summer Solstice, or maybe Labor Day. Any of those are as accurate as any I’ve made. Back to the story…

So I’m leaving Hot Springs at 2pm, determined to pile on the miles. This means I’m back to night-hiking mode again. Everything’s going fine till about dusk when the wind really picks up. The weather folks had called for a front to come plowing in, so there it was – wind, rain, some sleet, blah, blah ,blah… I get to the shelter where I’d planned to stop, only to find that it was on top of hill getting pounded by the wind. A piece of the sheet metal roof was loose, slamming against the shelter with every gust. After about 10 minutes of sitting through that cacophony, I decided there was no way I was going to get any sleep in that demonic kettle drum, so I slid into my wet raingear and pressed on to the next shelter 2 miles down the trail. Thankfully this shelter was much more protected from the wind. Needless to say, I was exhausted and slept like a baby.

The upshot of pushing to that shelter was that it put me that much closer to the Great Smokey Mountain National Park. The next day, I looked at my maps, the amount of food I was carrying, my desire to get through the park in good weather, and decided to get my groove on and pull a “hero day.” I hiked 30-miles and got around five miles into the park. This would leave me 63 miles from Fontana Dam, or about three solid days of hiking if I skipped going into Gatlinburg, TN. That was the plan at least.

The weather in the Smokies can get squirrelly any time of year, but especially during the winter. I had just enough food for three days, but not a cookie more. That made me a little nervous, so I made a side trip to Mountain Mama’s Kountry Kitchen just before going into the park. Mountain Mama’s is located near I-40, so I could hear the interstate waaaaaaay before I could see the road to the store. When I heard the traffic on I-40, I took off like a pack of Pavlov’s dogs, thinking about burying my face into their coveted “Huge Cheeseburger Special.”

This wasn’t the first time I felt like this. Back in Maine, Anne and I ran out of food the last night in the 100-mile wilderness. I don’t know if I’ve ever been so happy to hear cars as we approached the road leading to Monson, Maine. When you’re bottom-feeding on Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, the whole food thing becomes WAY important.

When I finally got to Mountain Mama’s, I wolfed down town burgers in no time, ordered two more to go, bought an extra day’s food, then set off into the park. Looking back, that little bit of extra food saved my butt, as the weather was getting ready to get a little bit wacky.

Like I mentioned before, the weather in the Smokies can go all over the place any time of year. During my hike though the park, I hiked in everything from beautiful blue skies and with highs in the forties, to slogging through 2-3 foot snowdrifts with God-only-knows what wind chills, torrential rains, tornado warnings, and everything in between. Anyway, the perverse weather changes made for better stories later if nothing else. Can’t say that I was bored.

My first full day in the Smokies was beautiful. The fog from the previous night lifted but left a hint of dew on everything to reflect the early morning light. I love getting up hiking at sunrise on nice days. It’s a great way to let the day unfold. There were still lingering ice and snow patches from last week’s storms as a reminder that winter was still here. I actually hiked in short sleeves for the first time in a long time. In a few areas, the trail was under several inches of ice. I could still see a small trickle of water behind the ice flowing with a lava lamp effect as it made its way through. I just sat and watched this for several minutes as I ate my lunch, letting the sun warm my tired and chilled bones. My final few miles that day were highlighted with an outstanding sunset from a rock outcropping named Charlie’s Bunion. Another night brought another night-hike, but the sunset was definitely worth the effort.

I shared the shelter that night with six other hikers out for the weekend. I normally don’t see six hikers in a week, much less all in one night so this was pretty cool. We stayed up talking till way too late, and then finally crawled into the warmth of the sleeping bags for a long night’s rest. The night was interrupted by a huge thunderstorm that rolled in, bringing rain, some sleet, and enough wind to blow everything around pretty good. This was the beginning edge of a front that’d I’d deal with for the next few days.

My original plan was to cover the next 43 miles to Fontana Village in two days. That plan, to put it mildly, was slightly altered. I took off that morning to mixed conditions – rain for awhile, then clearing, then rain, snow flurries, wind, etc. The weather seemed to change every 15 minutes, depending largely on the altitude I was at. I’ve always used 4,000 feet as a rule of thumb for weather getting particularly goofy in the southern Appalachians. This seemed to be holding true to form.

When I took the side trail to Clingman’s Dome (6,643 feet – highest point of the trail) I felt like I was walking through a carwash. A carwash with thunder and lightning. This calmed down after awhile, so I went up to the observation deck to check things out. After a quick snack, I had about ten more miles to cover and three more hours to do it in to reach the day’s goal. Once again – another night, and another night hike.

The storm picked up in intensity as soon as the sun went down. Temperatures dropped like a rock, and standing up was a chore with all the wind, much less trying to make any time. When I finally reached the shelter, it was a welcome sight indeed.

When I arrived at the shelter, it looked like a bomb had gone off in there. There were already wedged in there, and soaking-wet packs, jackets, boots, and food bags hung from every available nail. Three other southbounders had made it there earlier – Companero, Doc Martin, and his wife Straight A. I had been following their entries in the registers for months, and finally caught up with them in Hot Springs a couple of days earlier. Three weekenders were up from Greensboro and Winston Salem NC, two others, and Ward Leonard. Ward’s something of a trail icon, having hiked the AT 10 times already, including one of the fastest unsupported hikes. He doesn’t do too well in groups, and looked to be getting more sketched out by the minute.

The storm outside was howling, the temperature’s dropping, Ward was pacing back in front of the shelter looking for bears with his little flashlight. Then it starts to get weird.

Companero had a little radio playing “Prairie Home Companion”, the whole time being pre-empted with tornado warnings from the National Weather Service exhorting everyone to “seek secure shelter immediately.” All this time I’m thinking “well my shelter only has three sides with a chain link fence in front for the bears, folks are staring to tweak, but that’s about as secure as I’m going to get.” Good luck with that.

The storm did its thing all night. I have no idea how the guys in the top bunks got any sleep because the roof sounded like it was going to fly off with every gust. Craziness.

The next morning we woke up to about a foot of snow, with 2-3 foot drifts all over the place. Anything left hanging during the night was frozen solid. Hiking in knee-deep snow wasn’t in my vision when I started this thru-hike, but there you go.

The going was ridiculously slow, and I was grateful for the little bit of extra food I’d picked up at Mountain Mama’s. It took two long days of solid hiking to cover the 21 miles to Fontana Village, a distance that would I’d normally be able to make in one good day. It was the most exhausting part of the trip by far.

Snow was blanketed everything, muffling any sounds. While the hiking was hard, the views were stunning. One of the best views of the trip came from the Shuckstack firetower. That was also where we guessed the 2,000 mile mark was, so I was doubly-stoked.

The snow accumulation wasn’t as heavy the farther we descended off the ridge towards Fontana Dam. We finally made it to the road over the dam and tried to call in a shuttle from the Visitor’s Center to head into Fontana Village. As we were trying to coax the pay phone to life, a woman and her son pulled up in a pickup truck. You’ve got to understand that we’re in the middle of nowhere, in nasty weather, so this truck was a welcome sight indeed.

Anyway, she asks if we’re hikers and if we needed a lift. I said “Yes Ma’am!” I wanted give her a big kiss on the cheek right then in there. We threw our stuff in the back started to pile in next to the cab to stay out of the wind. Just we were getting ready to leave, she pops a cooler open and offers us a beer. At this point I’m prepared to name my first-born child after this benevolent trail angel. That may have been the tastiest beer ever tasted by man.

Once we got to the lodge at Fontana Village, we check into our rooms, ate dinner, and then slept like dogs. We planned to take the next day off to chill, do laundry, and catch up on some sleep. Another front moves in, bringing more snow and ice. We ran into another southbounder, UnTraveller, who was a day ahead but headed back to Fontana saying the trail was frozen solid and basically impassable. Decisions, decisions. Do we press on and hope for the best? Do we wait? Do we bail and head home for Christmas (all this was going down on 12/21.)

We stayed glued to the Weather Channel, ate gobs of food, and saw another band of snow and ice heading our way. UnTraveller had already hired a shuttle to take him to Knoxville, TN so he could go home to take care of some things, and on top of everything, we happened to be in a dry county. Things looked grim.

Since we were basically stuck till the weather cleared up some, we finally decided to head home for a few days then meet up right after Christmas. Hopefully things will have calmed down a bit and we could be on our merry way.

Our ticket out of Fontana was a 4-wheel drive van, and the twisty road up “The Dragon” was pretty sketchy, but we made it to Knoxville where I caught a bus to my sister’s (Mitzi) place in Nashville. I hung out there with her and her family for a couple of days, then we drove straight back to Climax, NC to my other sister, Pat, and spend the night. I hadn’t told my folks that I was coming home, so this is all hush-hush.

We swing over to my brother Jim’s, and then I hid in his trunk over for the short ride to my parents down the road. After a minute, I start getting claustrophobic and have to concentrate to not freak out, but it worked out fine in the end.

Mom opens the trunk.

“Surprise! Got anything to eat?!”

[Cue lots of tears, and lots of eating]

Anne came up the next day for lunch, and we then drove back to for folk’s place in Ahoskie, NC. Following that, we drove to Morehead City for a couple of days. Walking on the beach and skipping seashells wasn’t something I’d planned for this trip, but it was very cool. Sometimes you just gotta go with the flow, wherever it might take you.

Then it was back on the Greyhound, eventually making it to Asheville, NC where I’m meeting Straight A and Doc Martin, then back to Fontana Village. Whew!

Looking back, this has been one of the best Christmas’s I’ve ever had. One thing I’ve learned from this journey is a real love and new-found appreciation for my friends and family. I was great to surprise everyone, hang out, and reconnect for a few days.

Well, my bus is pulling up to the station so I better wrap this up. Worst case scenario puts us being done in about two weeks. I can’t believe this journey is about over. I’m looking forward to hiking the next few days with our little posse of four. So far I’ve covered all the bases group-wise: hiking as a couple with Anne, hiking solo for a few months, and now with a small group. I know our parents are pretty jazzed about us hiking together with all the weather. I’m thinking there needs to be a new support group – PWWW: Parents of Wayward Winter Walkers.

Anyways, gotta roll.

-Johnny Swank

*******

12/31/2000
Fontana Village
Mile 2,000-something

Getting ready to head back out to the trail. We left the snow and ice to go home for Christmas, now we’re heading back into the thick of things. Beautiful day thing, so no complaints here. The first few miles out of the valley aught to be interesting, because I’ve done no physical activity whatsoever other than walking back and forth from the fridge for the past week.

Oh yeah, happy birthday to me! What a cool way to celebrate 31 years on this big blue marble.

Well, its time to get back to the trail.

-Johnny Swank

Hey ya’ll,

Just wanted to throw a note out that I’ve made it to Hot Springs, NC in fine shape. The walk from Erwin to here was absolutely fantastic. The weather was great and the views were just incredible. I had what turned out to be one of the best days [...]]]> Hot Springs, NC
December 12, 2000

Hey ya’ll,

Just wanted to throw a note out that I’ve made it to Hot Springs, NC in fine shape. The walk from Erwin to here was absolutely fantastic. The weather was great and the views were just incredible. I had what turned out to be one of the best days of hiking ever the other day. The day started out with nothing out of the ordinary, except for the fact that the temperature was about 50 degrees with no wind by noon. I actually hiked in shorts and a long sleeve shirt for the first time in I-don’t-know-when until the wind decided to pick up and smack me down to the reality of what time of year it was.

Throughout the day everything just seemed to flow, making good time but not rushing. As the sun was going down the moon came up above the horizon, full and bright as could be. I hadn’t really planned on pulling a big day but I didn’t want the feeling of the day to end. No headlamp was necessary as the moon shining on the snow provided all the light necessary. Everything was just so quiet and peaceful. To make a long story short, I ended up hiking till about midnight, covering something like 28 miles but it felt more like hiking five. Incredible, just incredible.

Right now I’m sitting in Bluff Mountain Outfitters sponging off their computer. Being something of a gear nut, I’ve gone to just about every outfitter near the trail just to poke around. Dan and Wayne here, along with Jeff and Dave at Mount Rogers Outfitters in Damascus, VA, have been my favorite places by far. They really are in down to earth and in tune with the hiker community.

I just had the best breakfast today at the Smokey Mountain Diner. The Diner is the kind of place that I feel really at home at, where the waitress calls you “Honey” and keeps the sweet tea coming. Anyway, this breakfast was called the Breakfast Skillet. This culinary delight is something that could only be whipped up in the South. Hash browns, bacon AND ham, mushrooms, green peppers, onions, sausage, two eggs on top, and covered with cheese. Just looking at this mound of food, I could feel my arteries start to harden. After my heart stops palpitating, I’m going to swing down to the store and check to see if they have any “Acme At Home Angioplasty Kits” in stock.

One of the things that have hit me after walking around for five months is that my sense of scale has become much more, I don’t know, brought down to earth. A mile on the ground in a car seems quite a bit different than walking over that same mile. Anyway, as I was walking around town yesterday to get a feel for the area, this train goes by, blocking my way across the road. I’m standing maybe 25 feet from this thing and the size of the cars, the noise and screeching wheels, and the ground rumbling under my feet really hit me. I never really thought about how big those trains were, but it made a big impression on me. The same thing goes for the hills, the valleys, the smells, everything. Pretty cool.

I really like being back down in the south again. Things just a little slower here. Sure, there are some things that confuse me, but I like it just the same. One thing I’m convinced of is that there are more tanning beds per capita in the South than anywhere else in the world. The laundrymat/gas station here in town even has a tanning booth! Just an Observation, and your mileage my vary.

Enough of this babbling! Time to get hiking. I’ll be in the Smokies in a couple of days if I can get out of town at a decent hour. Sometimes it really is hard getting rolling out of a town, but as my buddy Brad Ivey says, “It doesn’t matter how far you get out of town, just get out of town.” Wise words indeed.

Take it easy,

-Johnny Swank

Howdy folks,

I’m writing from Troutville. Virginia, which is right down the road from Roanoke. According to my friendly Data Book, I’ve drug my carcass along the Appalachian Mountain chain about 1450 miles leaving about 715 miles left to go. It feels really good to be looking at the last 1/3 [...]]]> November 14, 2001
Troutdale, Virginia
Mile 1,450

Howdy folks,

I’m writing from Troutville. Virginia, which is right down the road from Roanoke. According to my friendly Data Book, I’ve drug my carcass along the Appalachian Mountain chain about 1450 miles leaving about 715 miles left to go. It feels really good to be looking at the last 1/3 of this trip. Sometimes I think about the scale of the miles in doing this little jaunt through the woods and think “Johnny Swank, what in the hell possessed you to do this thing? Do we need to talk about getting some serious help between your ears soon?”I guess it pays not to think too much and get caught in the mileage mathematics such as “At 16.73 miles per day, hey man, I’m done in X amount of weeks. Cool!”

One of the things that have been beaten into me out her~ is learning to be more patient with myself and letting the days play themselves out as they may. A sense of humor tends to help deal with some of the ridiculousness of situations that can come up. Go figure.

I still haven’t had any major problems health wise and hopefully that will continue to hold up. I could not have asked for better luck with the weather but am just waiting for the chilly cold smack down. There is a great book out written by Earl Shaefer, the first person to thru-hike the AT, called Walking With Spring. I think if I had a book, it would be more appropriately called Walking with Fall, Running from Winter! Oh well, what comes will come.

Oh yeah-I guess I should mention what the trail itself has been like through the last 290 miles while I’m at it. The leaves on the trees continued to change and fall after Harper’s Ferry until the last week or so. Overall the trail continues to be fairly moderate in grade through here. I did have the first long climb in awhile south of Waynesboro called appropriately enough, The Priest, because at the top I wanted to drop to my knees! That really was kind of a dumb joke, but I’m going to let it ride. I did have some out of the ordinary excitement going through the Shenandoah National Park. I had to miss a section in the middle of the park because it was, well, on fire. Seeing as I had failed to pack my Nomex suit for this trip I decided to just get a ride around the whole mess. From what I understand, the fire eventually took out around 23,000 acres in park. The rest of the walk through the Shenandoah’s went off with no problems though.

When I arrived in Waynesboro, I had the great fortune to myself and those around me of being able to take a shower free of charge at the YMCA. Things were starting to get a little edgy there for awhile. While in the area I met up with a few of my friends that lived nearby and had a great time catching up, playing guitars, and in general just relaxing. My sleep schedule still hasn’t recovered from that but I’ll take the memories any day.

The miles from Waynesboro had a really mellow vibe to them compared to the last time I had hiked this section. The leaves are now off the trees so I can see the ridge around me. The treadway of the path has been in excellent shape due to the hard work of the volunteers who are responsible for trail maintenance. Much of the time 1″m just in my head thinking about “stuff” because I don’t have to concentrate on watching where every footstep falls. While this is great, I did wander on the wrong path on what ended up being a seven mile addition to my day, but hey, I did see some more of Virginia that I would have missed. Right?

My folks drove up and paid me a visit In Troutville yesterday afternoon and last night. It was good to see them after four months away. Mom, in her infinite wisdom, had even made chocolate chip cookies and homemade macaroni and cheese. Oh yeah, life is good.

Well, I probably need to roll out of here. The lack of daylight these days are putting a premium on getting the miles in while I can still see. Usually I get on the trail by 6:30 to make the most of the day. My sleep schedule has been screwed up royally since Election Night though when I listened to the returns till WAY past my bedtime. Those fools need to get this thing figured out soon before the Italians start making fun of us. Trust me; Johnny Swank needs all the beauty sleep he can get!

Take care,

-Johnny Swank

Until next time, •”Johnny Swank” ME->GA 2000

Finally Back in the South, or close to it.

Hey folks! Sorry to have a lapse in writing but the computer access problem crept up again in Pennsylvania. Let’s see, where to start? Well. I’m sitting in Harper’s Ferry. WV, having walked through Pennsylvania, and Maryland to get here. About 1165 miles [...]]]> Harpers Ferry, West Virginia
10/26/2000
Mile 1165

Finally Back in the South, or close to it.

Hey folks! Sorry to have a lapse in writing but the computer access problem crept up again in Pennsylvania. Let’s see, where to start? Well. I’m sitting in Harper’s Ferry. WV, having walked through Pennsylvania, and Maryland to get here. About 1165 miles down, with 1000 or so to go. I passed the halfway point on 10/ 22. But that’s getting ahead of myself, so I’ll back up…

I left Delaware Water Gap after a wonderful visit from Anne and her grandmother with sort of a heavy heart I’ll admit. Sometimes hiking out here mirrors life at home pretty closely, with both good days and bad. Sometimes the weather’s crappy, food is marginal, sleep gets thrown off, or something else comes up and you just have to deal with it or get off.

Anyway, the infamous Pennsylvania rocks didn’t turn out all to be that big of a deal. It seems that for every tedious mile, there was an easy mile of old forest service road to walk on. And Pennsylvania was wonderfully flat in many areas. So nice. Anyway, I leave Delaware Water Gap and run into some of the folks from Backpacker Magazine doing a photo shoot, on Food no less. To top it off, these fine folks gave me a bowl of the leftovers to eat. Thank you Jonathon Dorn and Company for the pick me up!

Continuing on down the line, the AT comes across the Palmerton EPA Superfund Site. There was a zinc smelting plant in operation in this area for 80+ years. In the process, it seems that all plant life for about 10 miles of so was completely wiped out. It was something like walking through a war zone. Incredible. They’re in the process of trying to bring the area back to life by dumping Ecoloam on the hillsides by helicopter. This was the second EPA Superfund Site on the trail. The other was Nuclear Lake in New York.

Things continued back to normal after that, passing through several small towns along the way – Port Clinton, Duncannon, and Boiling Springs among them. Boiling Springs Is named after a natural, spring fed lake in the middle of town gushing out 25,000+ gallons a day to the river system. It was Friday night, so while I was in town I went to the local high school football game. I had to, because the any school that goes by the name “The Bubblers” has to get at least a look-see. Actually they have a great team, 8-0, with one of their kids getting a full ride to play football a Maryland next year (Derrick Miller). To prove this visit had to be fate, one of the marching band’s first songs was “Georgia on My Mind” Coincidence? I think not.

Getting to the halfway mark meant one thing – getting my Initiation into the Half Gallon Club at Pine Grove Furnace State Park. This is a hiker tradition that goes way back. Here’s the deal. You get to the park store, buy a half gallon of ice cream and if you can eat it in one sitting you get a wooden spoon embossed with “MEMBER OF HALF GALLON CLUB” stamped on it. I think’ froze my brain and came close to seeing my lunch a few times, but hey, I GOT MY SPOON, MAN!

Statistics – Half Gallon Hershey’s Chocolate Ice Cream
16 servings
140 calories per serving (2240 calories)
80% calories from fat
240 grams sugar
434% daily allowance of saturated fat

I didn’t eat dinner that night.

This entire area is steeped in history. Part of the trail goes by the several major battle sites. I drank from the same spring the Benjamin Franklin drank from when he supervised the building of a lookout post for Fort Northhill. When I drank from the spring, I seemed to feel all of Ben’s Inventiveness and intellect coursing through my veins. I was then I realized I was just dehydrated.

Camp David comes fairly close to the trail in this area. I tried to find it to get a full briefing on the current situation in the Middle East, but it appears that I was not on the guest list. I’ll have to have my people looking into that matter.

All of the monuments in this area give me pause to think of all the battles fought in these hills. Amazing to walk to same ridges as thousands of soldiers fought on.

I’m starting to put together a list of trail terms I hear a lot out here and will be writing that out in the next few weeks. The first term though is one of my own. P.M.R – Permanent Music Replay: the occurrence of getting the same song stuck in your head for days on end. This is not to be confused with: P.B.R – Pabst Blue Ribbon: a fine domestic beverage that is both tasty and light on the wallet.

P.M.R selections of the last few weeks (in no particular order)
“Roxanne Roxanne”, UTFO
“Make It”, Aerosmith (it’s the 1st tune on the 1st album)
“Folsom Prison Blues”, Johnny Cash
“Baby Got Back”, Sir Mix-A-Lot (a poet, and artist, and a fine man)
“Say You, Say Me”, Lionel Ritchey (this haunted me for days!)
“R.E.S.P.E.C.T.” as sung by Aretha Franklin
“Aqua Boogie”, Parliament Funkadelic
“Smells Like Teen Spirit”, Nirvana
“Hootchie Cootchie Man”, Muddy Waters
“Stranglehold”, Ted Nugent
“Couldn’t Stand the Weather”, Stevie Ray Vaughn
“Cracked Actor” David Bowie (the cut off Live at the Tower Theater. Wow. Just…wow)
“Third Stone from the Sun”, Jami Hendrix – I’ll never get tired of this tune.
“Night Life”, Willie Nelson
“You Were Born to be my Baby”, Bon Jovi (I don’t know why, please make this one stop!)
“Thunderbird”, ZZ Top (my oldest sister Mitzi gave me this tape (Fandango) for my 13th birthday. Although the tape long gave up the ghost, it’s burned into my memory quite deeply.)

Whew! That’s a bunch of rambling stuff to throw in one update. Thanks for bearing with me. Tonight I’ll cross the border into Virginia where I’ll be for about 475 miles or so. Almost feels like home.

Until next time,

-Johnny Swank

Mile 900

“Hey Buddy – You want this grinder on a wedge or what?”

And so it was that I walked into New York and New Jersey on this AT trip, and I guess some explanation is in order. The AT over the last 150 miles or so cross several roads [...]]]> Somewhere in New Jersey
October 10, 2000

Mile 900

“Hey Buddy – You want this grinder on a wedge or what?”

And so it was that I walked into New York and New Jersey on this AT trip, and I guess some explanation is in order. The AT over the last 150 miles or so cross several roads daily as it meanders through the countryside. Also it comes closer to larger towns (New York City is within 34 miles at one point) than it will during any other stretch.

With the close proximity to people comes a mixed situation. I found most of the trail and shelters in New York to be pretty trashy in several areas, with more vandalism in the shelters and trash thrown all over the place. It sometimes brought me a little down. , but soon afterward something would happen to brighten up the day. For example, the trail leading to bridge the crosses 1-81 was particularly dreary. Going across the bridge though the sun was shining, the birds were flying overhead, the truckers were honking their horns at me, and Bruce Springsteen started to play on my Walkman. Sort of a Norman Rockwell scene, circa 2000.

However, with many of the road crossings comes the possibility of a dell nearby to stuff my face. Overall, it was an acceptable trade-off. I think I actually gained weight on the “Deli Tour”. For what ifs worth, the trail in New Jersey was surprisingly beautiful, with Sunfish Pond being a highlight of the area. Also the trail through this area crosses many bridges over major rivers (Delaware and Hudson) that make for a pretty cool juxposition between the trail and city. Another scene burned into my memory is trying to cross a major highway leading into New York City (Palisade Parkway I think off the top of my head). Getting across all four lanes of traffic was something like the old video game “Frogger”. The traffic was unreal. Wow.

Seems like thoughts are often turning to food these days. I’m starting to have really intense cravings for certain foods. Lately it’s been Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches. A PBJ, some Fritos. Hey, all need is my Superman lunch box and I’m back In Ms. Hodgin’s 3rd grade class at Pleasant Garden Elementary

One a down note, Anne has decided to take off the trail. We’re fine, but this year simply wasn’t a good time for her to go. She and her grandmother actually visited me today while I’m in Delaware Water Gap, PA. Things are quite different now hiking alone. Not necessary better or worse, but truly different. Still pushing around 18-22 miles a day, but the infamous Pennsylvania Rocks will probably slow that down a little for the next few days.

900 miles down, 1265 to go. It hit me the last couple of days that this trip is almost halfway over. Seems like it just began.

Until later, take care,

-Johnny Swank

Hi again from Connecticut!

Sorry about the lapse in time from the last posting. We’re still hitting towns where the libraries kind of have some “unique” hours so it limits our email access sometimes. Any of you folks familiar with PDA’s recommend a cheap, easy way to email out? Emphasis on the cheap part!

First a couple of housekeeping [...]]]> 9/28/2000

Hi again from Connecticut!

Sorry about the lapse in time from the last posting. We’re still hitting
towns where the libraries kind of have some “unique” hours so it limits our
email access sometimes. Any of you folks familiar with PDA’s recommend a
cheap, easy way to email out? Emphasis on the cheap part!

First a couple of housekeeping things:

1. Got a question from someone the other day. Something to the effect of
“Do you wear the same clothes everyday?” Well, I’d have to say yes to that
one for sure. The blue shirt in, most all of the pictures has been worn (and
washed several times thank you) virtually every single day since July 1. No
funk, no problem!

2. Someone also asked if I’m hiking in sandals. Yes to that question as
well. I’ve been wearing a prototype pair of Chaco sandals with kinds of a
lug sole every day of this trip with no problems whatsoever. No blisters.
no foot funk, no turned ankles, nothing. I’m not really carrying a ton of
weight around so that helps and though I can’t really condone this for everyone,
but I’m happy as a clam about the whole thing.

Let’s see, where were we? Last time I wrote I was in Hanover, New
Hampshire. We’re currently in Salisbury. Connecticut and getting ready to
walk across the line into New York in the coming days. Vermont and
Massachusetts were both beautiful. The leaves are beginning to turn up
here, with the maples and beeches leading the way with an amazing show of
yellows. golds, reds, and purples that just leave me speechless sometimes.

The miles have been easier as well, with dally averages somewhere between
16-20 miles per day. Not that going that distance is a cakewalk, but the
huge elevation gains and losses found in Maine and New Hampshire are not
nearly as prevalent here. That brings me to something that’s been bouncing
in my head the last few days. Without all of the Incredible, wide-ranging
vistas that you can’t help but be drawn to, you kind of get a more through
(Thoreau?) appreciation for the immediate surroundings. I’ve noticed more
subtle changes in the trail and in myself and are not so distinct, but much
more sublime in nature. Sometimes I get so caught up in the moment of
what’s going on that even the slightest changes give me new appreciation of
just being. Just amazing.

On to a livelier note. Thanks to all those folks with the ACC sports
scoresl Looks like Florida State, Clemson and NC State(?I) in the top of
the pack. Wow – did FSU spank Carolina or what? This must be the part
where they fire the coach or he “resigns”? I will have to say that after spending so much time here in the Ivy League
that I’m much more comfortable in the Kudzu League! Go figure.

Until next time,

-Johnny Swank

Howdy Everyone!

Well we finally made it into Hanover, NH, home of Dartmouth College and more upscale finery than we certainly are used to So far we’ve covered 441.5 miles with only about 1720 to go. From Gorham to Hanover were the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Our luck with [...]]]> September 8, 2000
Hanover, New Hampshire
Mile 441

Howdy Everyone!

Well we finally made it into Hanover, NH, home of Dartmouth College and more upscale finery than we certainly are used to So far we’ve covered 441.5 miles with only about 1720 to go. From Gorham to Hanover were the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Our luck with the weather continued while traveling through this area, with the exception of crossing Mt Washington in 40 degree weather with 30-50 mph winds and slight rain (Wind chill was supposed to be about 15-20 degrees BRRRR!)

The Whites were gorgeous, with several mountains going above tree line, were the altitude (4000+ feet), weather, and seasonal change makes anything but scrub grass unable to grow. These high ridges made for some fantastic views, especially from the Franconia Ridge area, where we were above tree line for several miles with blue skies overhead. A little too much – we both got a little sunburnt.

In coming into the more populated areas of the trail we are coming across many more people on the trail. The Appalachian Mountain Club, which has been around since 1876, maintains the AT from around Gorham to about 40 miles north of Dartmouth. The AMC has built a series of huts in the mountains that people use (for $65/person per night – not us!) with bunkspaces for up to 90 people, dinners and breakfasts served, blankets, etc. Many families do use those facilities though and it is good to see sometimes 3 generations going hiking together. Also have run into the herd of Northbound Thru Hikers in the last few weeks. They’ve averaged around 20 per day, with one day around 30-35 passing through. It’s kind of an adjustment from the quietness of Maine but it goes along with hiking on the AT and is to be expected.

The last mountain above treeline that we will hike on the AT was Mt Moosalake. It was the greatest feeling to come off the mountain and end up in our first pasturelandl Flat ground – how neat! Reminded me of back home at my folk’s farm. No more major climbs, comparatively speaking, for several hundred miles. Time to shift this buggy into cruise control and get on with it. Still looks like Christmas is achievable, but if not, we’ll just catch the bus home. There’s no way I’m going to have not one but two mothers on my case about skipping Christmas.

Time to hit the trail again. Thanks to everyone for your concern and thoughts that we’ve received. As always, it really means so much to us.

Until Later,
-Johnny Swank and Sloth

PS – seeing as I’m going to miss the entire ACC football season this year, can some kind person PLEASE post some of the scores?
Specifically:

1. Who does NC State pound up on? (if any – I’m an optimist)
2. If anyone beats Florida State
3. If Wake can manage to beat Grimsley? (not likely, but dare to dream)
4. MOST IMPORTANT…..WHO PUTS THE BEAT-DOWN ON CAROLlNA!

Thanks,

-John