[at-l] Thoughts of Slackpacking:

[cballs@mindspring.com (Curtis Balls)]

This is a portion of my journal in Maine where for the first time during my
hike I decided to slackpack.  These pages describe and suggest what it was
like for me, the upside and the downside of it.  I coulda just told you
this and saved the bandwidth but I'm a sucker for a story.  I believe some
of you are too.

Curtis

(The milepoint vs. the actual miles walked is because I flipped from Bear
Mt. to Hanover)



9/8 - 9/11 - Gorham, NH (milepoint 1,863.7)

Actual miles walked: 1,524.4

I have made the decision to go over to the Darkside and do some
slackpacking. I understand the dangers to the integrity of my hike and
accept full responsibility for any ramifications and will hold no ill will
toward anyone who may have a different opinion about this. But I think I
should do this so that I can give a fully informed opinion about what it's
like and how it compares to carrying a full backpack.

This is how it works. You fill a daypack with only items that you'll need
for the day, water, food, first-aid kit, and maps. Fingernail file if you
have one. Typically, the shuttler will run you out to the trailhead and you
walk back to the motel or hostel you are staying in and spend another night
with them. Your pack can be shuttled to just about anywhere, it doesn't
have to be to a motel or hostel. You may also hike either north or south.
This is done for a fee, rarely for free, but sometimes. The Hikers Paradise
runs an extensive slackpacking service that can encompass several days of
hiking. The advantage to the hostel owner is more rented room nights.  The
advantage for you, if you've ever carried a fully loaded backpack, is
obvious.

You should know that nearly everyone out here has slackpacked at least some
of this Trail along the way. Some have slackpacked a lot of it. A few, most
of it. I've kept my slackpacking card close to my chest for over 1,500
miles and now I think it's time to play it. I backpacked from Springer to
Bear Mt., NY and from Hanover through The Whites, every step. I think I've
proven that I can carry a fully loaded pack.

Posted by Curtis Balls on Sep 28, 1999.


9/12 - Grafton Notch (milepoint 1,895.0)

Actual miles walked: 1,534.7

I slackpacked today, in Maine, southward from East B Hill Road to Grafton
Notch over the East and West peaks of Baldpate Mountain. Actually only one
of the peaks is bald and the other is wearing a toupee. Bruce took me up to
East B Bill Road today just outside of Andover along with some other hikers
whom I first met down at NOC, although I don't remember their trailnames. I
never do. They went north toward South Arm and I hiked south back to
Grafton Notch.

We got to the trailhead at about 8:30am. The drive took an hour. By the
time I got to the summit of Baldpate Mountain, I could see clearly why
everyone falls in love with Maine. It is simply gorgeous. The views of the
mountains and the forests that cover them are seemingly uninterrupted by
human civilization. The vistas are all forest for as far as the eye can
see. Well, there are four MCI satellite dishes in one of the valleys. We're
almost there though, almost to the 100 mile wilderness. I was able to take
my time through the woods today because Bruce gave me until 7:00 pm to do
this section so it was a pleasant stroll through the woods without the
strain of lugging the big pack over the mountainside. I sat down a lot and
thought about nothing. It was a full day of Maine beauty. Like the mystery
and wholeness of such grandeur, I simply was.

Bruce is an excellent shuttler. He's from Maine and has hiked these
mountains many times since childhood so he knows a great deal about them
and also about the history of the area, its people and its industry. He
shared his knowledge and pointed out many things of interest as we rode to
the trailhead that we would otherwise have never learned. I would like to
tell you what all of them were but I'm very tired right now and can't
remember any of it.

Posted by Curtis Balls on Sep 28, 1999.




9/13 - South Arm Road (milepoint 1,915.2)

Actual miles walked: 1,544.8

I had to get up at 4:30am this morning to get shuttled out here. Bruce is
also the cook for the Hikers Paradise so he has to get back to the motel to
get breakfast on the table for the other guests and for other hungry
travelers. For hikers, that's one big downside to slackpacking. You're
beholden to the shuttler's schedule. It is not your own. It makes it feel
like a job. I went north from East B Hill Road today. At least by the time
we got to the Trailhead it was light enough to see without a flashlight.

The view from near the summit of Moody Mountain was stunning. It was a long
steep climb up, hand over fist, root grasping, trunk hugging climb and
would have taken nearly twice as long with the full pack. There are a few
ladders and some "hand rails" along the way at one point. But the views
made it worth the effort, the sensuous, green earth rolling and climbing
and breaking for as far as one could see, the open sky streaked with a
bouquet of rosy cumulus clouds that seemed to originate at the same point
at the horizon and fan out like giant tail feathers across the blue expanse
of heaven.

I ran into Tim up there, a local young man who is section hiking.  He's
trying to get permanent work with the National Park Service. He said he'd
go anywhere. I don't know why he'd ever want to leave Maine. I asked if
there were any ugly people in Maine as I have never met an ugly Mainer.
Everyone I've ever met from here is quite good looking, especially Tim.
With an almost imperceptible blush, the color of the high rosy clouds, he
insisted there are ugly people in Maine, but I'm not sure I believe him. I
think he was being modest. I don't think there are any twits here either.

When we got to South Arm, there were a few other hikers there who are
staying in Andover at the Cabin. A couple of them are staying in a
condominium somewhere.  Bear from the Cabin came by in his shiny new red
pick-up truck and brought us all some lemonade.

Posted by Curtis Balls on Sep 29, 1999.



9/14 - Grafton Notch (milepoint 1,895.0)

Actual miles walked: 1,553.0

Another 4:30 wake up call, except the alarm clock didn't go off and I was
late. Bruno came up the stairs and told me to hurry up. In my haste I
forgot to bring the first-aid kit with me and very little food, except what
was left over from yesterday. I was planning on restocking this morning
from one of the convenience stores at the service stations, but a mad dash
to the car and we were off to Mahoosuc Notch - ManWho, Bear Bait, whom I'd
met with Woody in Virginia, Frodo, Easy Rider and me. And Lutz. Lutz was a
young German guy from Stuttgart, auto mechanic, who was circumnavigating
the US on his BMW motorcycle and was staying at Hiker's Paradise. Lutz
wanted to hike on the Appalachian Trail so I invited him to come with us.

This was going to be different. It was a two mile hike in on an approach
trail, it was still dark when we got to the trailhead and I had no
flashlight and very little food, a granola bar, an apple, a Snickers candy
bar and a tin of sardines. And it was the Mahoosuc Notch, one of the
toughest parts of the Trail according to the stories we'd been hearing.
People have been talking about it as if you could die in that notch. The
Notch is a very steep, narrow gap about a mile long between Mahoosuc
Mountain and some other mountain. It's full of boulders, some of them the
size of houses, all piled up. The Trail goes over some of them, around some
of them, under some of them. It's a mile of boulder hoping and crawling,
sometimes on hands and knees. Some of them are sharp and some are wet. And
then it's straight up the Mahoosuc Arm about 1,500 feet. We walked north.

It would turn out to be one of the most exciting days of the entire
journey. On the approach trail, while it was only barely dawn and we were
all sleep walking, we ran into a moose. A bull moose. It must have weighed
about 5,000 lbs. and towered up about 20 feet high. He was fantastic. Once
he got our scent and got a beam on us he charged.  It was  only because of
our intimate knowledge of the woods built up over months of being in them
and our vast experience with the mountains and the creatures that live in
them that we were able to keep our wits about us so as to avert certain
death. By the time it came at us, hoofing, snorting, screaming like an
elephant, trees being knocked over, dirt and brush flying up overhead, we
were all fully awake, every hair on end and every sinew poised for action.
He was like a bull moose in heat. In fact, he was a bull moose in heat.
ManWho, using his spring-action hiking poles as a fulcrum, was able to get
a leap up on the giant beast just as it charged toward us.  At just the
right moment we all moved adroitly from its path and ManWho made his great
vault. Once atop the raging animal, ManWho grabbed hold of its magnificent
rack and guided it safely away from the trail, and us, back into the deep,
lush woods. Using the moose's antlers as a reins is an old mountain trick
that none of us knew ManWho knew since he's from Tennessee and lives in
Florida. But apparently once you get a hold of the moose's antlers they
turn pretty docile and can easily be lead around and made to do just about
anything. Even to drink. We were all enormously grateful to have had ManWho
with us that day and if he ever gets down off that moose and comes out of
the woods we're going to thank him, personally.

That's my moose story and I'm sticking to it. If any of these other hikers
tell you a different story, don't you believe it.

Needless to say, by the time we got to the Notch, we were all pretty
psyched.  I had a blast going through the Notch. I felt like a kid, hopping
and jumping from boulder to boulder. In a couple places I had to get down
on my hands and knees and crawl under a boulder. The hiking poles were in
the way most of the time, so I'd pitch them forward and then use my hands
to pull myself up and around. It was delightful fun. It took about 45
minutes for me to get through the Notch. It would have taken less time, but
about half way through I had to stop and have that granola bar. It was the
only breakfast I'd had.

Lutz, Frodo and Easy Rider caught up with me at Speck Pond and we sat
around for a few minutes to recover from Mahoosuc Arm. Elija Bluegrass was
up at the Speck Pont Campsite along with several other hikers. A new piece
of information about the AMC has come to me and I'm completely dumbfounded
over it. It seems that the AMC charges the campsite caretakers, all AMC
employees, $40 a month rental for the tents that are provided them out
here. When I wrote earlier about the AMC, I was trying to find something
positive to say about their work and their efforts to keep The Whites in
good shape. In light of this new piece of information, I've changed my
mind. The AMC is an evil organization and should be destroyed. I have no
respect for any organization, commercial or non-profit, that does this kind
of stuff to their employees. I don't care what kind of work they do. **

Posted by Curtis Balls on Sep 30, 1999.

** In a subsequent journal entry not posted here, I explained the reason
for this.  When I got to Monsoon I had an email explaining that it's an IRS
requirement.  The IRS views the tents as a domicile and therefore
compensation to the caretakers who hadn't been claiming it on their short
forms.  The AMC upped the wages and then took them back in the form of
rents.  This was another one of those "hiker stories," easily picked up on
the Trail, riddled with either incomplete or misinformation, usually both.
You can ignore all the hateful things I say about the AMC from here
forward.


9/15 - Success Trail (milepoint 1,879.3)

Actual miles walked: 1,560.9

South on the AT today, over Goose Eye Mountain. Another 4:00am wake up and
out on the Trail in the dark. This time I was better prepared, having spent
last evening making sure everything was together before getting into bed so
that all I had to do in the morning was suit up and grab the slackpack on
the way out the door.  Half way up Goose Eye, I ran into some AMC
maintainers and my heart went out to them. They were all young people who
said they were blazing a relocation of the trail. I didn't ask, but I hope
they're volunteers so that the AMC can't rip them off. They asked me if I
was a thru-hiker and I gave my standard reply, "No, not yet. But I did
start in Georgia and I'm still on the Trail."  They eyed me suspiciously
and the quite small slackpack I'm carrying and asked, "Is that your pack?"
Yes, I told them. I carried it all the way from Springer Mountain. I told
them that I was setting new standards in lightweight backpacking and had
nothing in my pack but a roll of toilet paper and some duct tape. Once you
get the hang of it that's really all you need.  Some even forgo the toilet
paper.  I think a couple of the kids believe me.

This is an AMC maintained section of the Trail and so it is very badly
marked.

Once we got to the Success Trail, it was a 2.4 mile hike down off Success
Mountain to the road to be picked up. This is another disadvantage
sometimes to slackpacking. You have to hike in and out on trails that are
not the AT.  The Success Trail is an AMC maintained trail too, and it is
very well marked.  I'm beginning to suspect that the AMC has a serious
attitude problem specifically with the AT. They seem almost to resent it.
One can only wonder at the political hobgoblin that goes on between the AMC
and the ATC.

Posted by Curtis Balls on Oct 1, 1999.


9/19 BEMIS MOUNTAIN LEAN-TO (milepoint 1,923.9)

Actual miles hiked: 1,584.6

Dr. Bruce shuttled me up to South Arm in Maine, the farthest north I've
gotten, and we said our good-byes. Here's another disadvantage to
slackpacking- getting up Old Blue Mountain with a fully loaded backpack
nearly killed me.  That thing weighs twice as much as it ever did. I had to
stop about ten times on the way up. There was an excellent viewpoint about
halfway overlooking the valley back toward Moody and Baldpate. There are
ponds and lakes everywhere,  like topaz pools shimmering in the distance.
The Trail is full of water and mud after the torrential rain. You can't
avoid stepping in it or falling in it. I fell down twice, once because I
stepped on a tree root, which was impossible to avoid. Tree roots,
especially after a rain, are slick as cat shit on a linoleum floor. The
Trail is also full of rocks. Sometimes that's a good thing because if they'
re in the water you can use them as stepping stones. Usually though they're
just in the way. I slipped on one when I was almost at the shelter and
broke the ends off both my hiking poles. I'm nearly crazy from the rocks.

It was just me at the shelter, so after a fine dinner of Arrowhead grits
with garlic, refried pintos and parmesan cheese along with a Nalgene full
of hot green tea, I curled up in the sleeping bag to try to get warm. The
weather people promised that tonight it would get down in the 30's and it
already felt 20. Later, I had to put on more clothes. After fiddling with
the radio for a while, I finally found something to keep me warm, The House
of Blues. They were interviewing Long John Hunter and two other legendary
Texas bluesmen about their new CD, "Lone Star Shootout." The mice were
jumpin' around and skittering across the anti-porcupine beam while I was
tapping my feet, dancing while lying down, to a T-Bone Walker boogie blues
"Let Your Hair Down Baby and Let's Have a Natural Ball," dancing and dozing
in syncopation with the full Maine moon pouring its silvery, mercury light
over the shimmering, glittering Maine woods while the stars blinked off and
on just over the silhouetted mountain summits visible from the shelter
floor. It was pure heaven. Me and the mice were jammin' at the Bemis
Mountain Lean-to last night.

Posted by Curtis Balls on Nov 12, 1999.