Project Eveningland

To begin the blog at the first post of my 2023 Appalachian Trail journey (the original purpose of the blog), click this link. Additional navigation shortcuts are available in the sidebar. Spoilers ahead, highlight the next block to read:

Around about day 140, a 1000-year rainstorm caught me in Harriman State Park in New York. The Appalachian Trail in Vermont and Maine was a mess, and I had been slowed to a crawl by the lingering effects of the meds I had to take to treat giardiasis and so was running out of time anyway. I decided to switch to the Colorado trail for another 100 miles or so and dry out and make the finish less sad than a “failed” thru-hike, so that’s why the last posts are in Colorado, if you were wondering. There is no such thing as a “failed” thru-hike, by the way!

Anyway, enjoy the blog! I’ll add future journeys as I go. I hiked 100 miles on the AT in Georgia and North Carolina in February/March of 2024 to help work on my book. I may add those entries if the time is right–it was a very personal journey. I plan to hike and write and research throughout 2024, and will add posts and pictures as I see fit. Subscribe so you don’t miss out!

4/6/2023 Thursday

Had I decided to sleep in the shelter last night (I ultimately decided to tent) I would have been awakened near midnight by the arrival of Honey Badger and SQRL (pronounced “squirrel”).

4/5/2023 Wednesday

I spent some time in the morning chatting with Lefty and Helium—Helium’s name was written on her dry bag, so that’s why I associated it with “bag” yesterday. The human memory is so idiosyncratic.

4/4/2023 Tuesday

The Damascus Diner is an oasis of human warmth on a cool spring morning. Heavens, that sausage and that sausage gravy! I can still taste the slight peppery bite. They only had bananas as a fruit topper for the waffles I ordered.

4/3/2023 Monday

I’m still nauseated but doing much better. It was way easier to eat today. I am so damn glad that the last dose is behind me. Will reached out last night—he’s in the area—and offered to drive me around today. A chance to see a trail friend and get a strip mall haircut! My dream!

4/2/2023 Sunday

By morning the blackout and the nuclear anti-protozoal meds had reduced me to a lump curled on the bed beneath every blanket I could find. The power was still out.

“My husband was a great traveler, so I’ve spent many happy evenings without understanding a word. The thing is to keep smiling and never look as if you disapprove.” -Violet Crawley, Dowager Countess of Grantham

4/1/2023 Saturday

I woke around six AM feeling pretty damn good. The antibiotics seemed to have “dropped a train” on my protozoan bodyguests. Well, maybe the antibiotics did and maybe they didn’t, but later they dropped a train on me.

3/31/2023 Friday

My high little ridge campsite stayed warm last night. I watched a tiny brown mouse poke around under my tent vestibule in the bright moonlight. He didn’t linger—there’s no food in my tent and, judging from the amount of ash in the fire ring, this site gets used a lot. Plenty of crumbs around. Last night I poked my head out of the tent while Benny and I were talking on the phone and saw a night lit by stars, a bright half moon, and town lights—Winchester maybe?

3/30/2023 Thursday

Tiny valleys are cold at night. The frigid air settles in all the crevices. I was glad to climb the ridge to my pre-dug cat hole because it meant sitting in the sun in the morning.

3/29/2023 Wednesday

Finally, I found some sleeping accommodations that didn’t leave me cold at night. Two heaters and a toasty Doug/Rhetoric. What a treat. Speaking of treats: I used the breakfast sandwich method this morning. Two sandwiches totaling somewhere around 840 calories. I was hungry again 45 minutes later.

3/28/2023 Tuesday

I wish I could share with you, just as an intellectual exercise, the feeling of losing your phone or not having a way to recharge it while you are alone out in the woods. Boomers and older folks may find it difficult to identify with this feeling. The next several paragraphs may cause the ghost of Edward Abbey to throw up a little in his mouth (which, honestly, good).