[at-l] lessons learned? (long)

["cosmo catalano, jr." <Cosmo.A.Catalano@williams.edu>]

Well my friends, this is the story of the hike that didn't happen. 
In it our hero learns a few lessons.  His original intention had been 
to "thru hike" Massachusetts.  His personal schedule caused him to 
set some goals that proved to be unrealistic.  His six day hike was 
to consist of the following days:

1-10.3 miles Undermountian trail to Hemlock shelter
2-14.3 miles Hemlocks to Tom Leonard
3_10+ Tom Leonard to Goose Pond (w/drop box @ Tyringham PO)
4-17.4 Goose Pond to Kay Wood
5-16+ Kay Wood to Nark Nopel
6-12+ Mark Nope to home.

Not too excessive (he thought) except for days 4 and 5, but the 
terrain there is pretty flat and he'd done it before 2 years ago.

He had been out twice earlier that summer on 1-3 day hikes, and had 
done trail work on most very Saturday in June and July.  However, the 
rest of the time was spend catching up on work (professional and 
domestic) and due to many other factors, his regular bike riding and 
eating routines were not followed.  Folks, he was out of shape. 
Still, he'd never had a problem beforeŠ

8/15
I bribed my son to drop me off at the trail head Tuesday morning 
about 10 am.  It had rained heavily the night before and the woods 
were like a jungle.  As soon as I started to climb, my glasses began 
to fog up.  Soon I was hiking without them.  As the grade got 
steeper, my thighs began to tire, and as the sun got stronger, sweat 
poured off.  By the time I reached Riga Junction and the AT, my pants 
were soaked from the waist to the zip off legs.  I remarked to myself 
that a month off of bicycling proceeding this hike probably wasn't 
the best preparation.

Turning right and heading north on the AT I managed to make it to the 
summit of Bear Mt (Conn). And took the pack off for a rest and snack. 
Took some pictures of the view and the monument up there.  Also 
snapped a pix for the thru hiker that had arrived while I was resting.

The topography of this section of Mass is typically "whalebacked", 
the south slopes of mountains are fairly long and relatively easy 
grades, while the north slops plunge steeply onto plateau, then 
plunge again to stream bottoms.  North of the summit was no 
exception, it was very steep going down for the first 1/2 mile, 
several times I had to turn around and go down hand over hand.

As a consequence of our extremely wet summer (now over 12" above 
normal rainfall to date) the rocks were unusually slippery, covered 
by a thin layer of slime/moss.  Most outcroppings had paths worn into 
the duff at the sides of the trail.  This season will be responsible 
for much trail widening.

Moving slowly, the schedule began to twitch in the back of my head 
along with the concern abut my unexpected fatigue and breathlessness 
on the ups.

Eventually the trail grade moderates and I reached the descent into 
Sages Ravine.  Passing through the ravine was quite lovely, water was 
gurgling everywhere, though the stream was easily fordable.

"Welcome to Massachusetts" the sign said.  I began the long up hill 
on the south side of Race Mtn.  Stopped for lunch at the still 
pretty, but over-used Bear Rock Falls Campsite.  I forced down my 
beef jerky, cheese and trail mix, emptied my internal bladder and 
refilled my Platypus.  (I have a nifty little adapter that joins the 
Sweetwater directly to the Platypus hose).  After the exchange of 
fluids, I headed on up the mtn.

Folks this mountain is not steep on the south side.  The climb to the 
cliffs is steady, but I'd never found it particularly demanding 
before.  During the several pauses for my breathing to recover, I 
tried to quell the concern that was setting in.
You know, one of the things I liked about hiking was the chance to 
let my thoughts roam, but today, I had to fight to prevent them from 
returning to the topic of speed/schedule.

Breaking out of the trees onto the cliffs of Race took my mind off my 
troubles.  The day was a bit hazy, but not enough to detract from the 
panorama spread out on my right. A breeze was blowing, the raptors 
were patrolling above and alongside me and the dragonflies were 
patrolling the footpath.  Grasshoppers were constantly springing up 
in front as I made my way through the grass and rocks at the cliffs 
edge.  I really love this part of the trail.

Arriving at the summit, I could look back at Bear Mtn and ahead to Mt 
Everett. I was about halfway thru my day.  Pictures were taken, and I 
began my descent into the next ravine (Race Brook).  Again, steep 
slippery rocks were the first order of business, then as the dwarf 
pines and blueberries gave way to hemlocks and maples the path again 
moderated, before dropping down to a confusing junction with the Race 
Brook Trail.  Fortunately, I had been this way before and knew where 
to look for the white blazes.  Unfortunately, I also knew what was 
ahead of me over the next 3/4 of a mile.

The NB AT up Everett starts out on soccer ball sized cobbles and then 
transfers to smooth, sloping rock face.  It was difficult going.  I 
was beginning to panic.  At one point, I had to sit down, stop crying 
and tell myself out loud. "Don't Panic".  It's weird, the shelter was 
only about 2 miles away--I knew I was going to make it there long 
before dark--but the growing knowledge that I couldn't manage six 
more days of this was overwhelming.  Jeez, why can't I just live in 
the present?

As I was literally stumbling up the hill, promising myself a rest at 
each blaze, down the trail come a young couple day hiking, one pack 
between them.  Pleasantries were exchanged--I guess--though I'm sure 
my face must have been beet red, and the wild look in my eye somewhat 
disconcerting.

Finally the trail levels out and I reach the summit.  Still a nice 
day and a good view back from whence I came.  Doesn't look that bad 
from hereŠ

I chatted with a couple of NB'ers re-shouldered my pack and started 
down the trail to cover the last mile to The Hemlocks.  I came to a 
nice outlook and I could see tomorrows landscape.  "Maybe I can do 
this", I thought.  Amazing how different one's attitude is when the 
path is sloping AWAY from you.

The Hemlocks was lovely, we had finished it about a year ago.  I was 
good to stay here and remember the friends who had helped to build 
it.  There were a number of NB'ers staying there that night, some who 
had been out of touch since Virginia.  4 Bears was throwing a BBQ for 
his trail mates; some of the hikers there included: Arrow, Blue, 
Jolly Rancher and Moxie.  Although they were friendly, I was 
definitely not one of the club.  Kind of like going to your wife's HS 
class reunion.  One advantage of not going to the BBQ was being able 
to get to bed early.  I really needed to think about my options.

8/16
After a intense downpour between 5 and 6am, I got up, packed quietly, 
drank may Tang and had a breakfast bar and was on my way by 7.  I'd 
decided to keep going and see how I did.  The days trip was a bit 
over 14 miles, over mostly level terrain.

The woods were dank again after the AM rain.  It was so wet this year 
that some of the "puddles" on the footpath had frogs living in them.

The descent off Jug End was very steep.  I was impatient, thinking 
about how much more was remaining in my journey.  Of course I slipped 
and landed right on my pack (fortunately, my pole straps were on and 
I didn't loose them).  Just a slight twisting of the knee, it only 
hurt when I bent it past 90*.

Onward and downward I finally got to Jug End Rd and the flat.  The 
mosquitoes and deerflies were persistent, but I was moving fairly 
quickly, and by regularly wiping my ears and arms I was able to avoid 
most of the bites.  However, even slight uphills made me pant.

Just before Kellogg road, I began to work a blister.  Now I've been 
hiking for 10 years now and I've never had a blister before.  At the 
road crossing, I stopped and changed to my dry sox, and put a piece 
of duct tape over the hot spot.  Shared some snacks with NB'er Happy 
Hiker and moved on.  The sox and tape did not help.  I got to Rt 7 
limping, there was no way I was going to climb over June Mtn and then 
up the bluff to the ridge where the shelter was located.  Well I 
probably could have, but what about the next 5 days?  Sorry to say, I 
just wasn't that driven.  It was time to give up.  I was beaten.

A week later after some very thoughtful days at home working on my 
"honey-do" list (much to the surprise of my wife) I draw the 
following conclusions--many of them probably obvious to this list, 
but nothing like a personal example to bring them home...

1. Even small mountains are steep.
2. "Hiking into shape" is willful self deception.  One doesn't have 
to be a marathoner, but a reasonable amount of daily exercise makes a 
big difference.
3. Youth is wasted on the young.
4. The weight you carry isn't always in your pack, and cannot be 
measured with a scale.
5. Have a plan, but don't let it spoil your day.  This is one I'll 
probably never really get.  Planning is what I do for a living, it is 
the framework of how I manage my life.  For me, it will take a 
different kind of exercise to deal with this one.

Chagrined, a trifle embarrassed, but a bit wiser,

Cosmo

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