Thursday,
January 17, 2019
“I think we have some mice in
the storage room,” Lisa said.
She keeps all kinds of
wonderful snacks for our many volunteers in a large room that also houses my
two main furnaces. She buys and stores
the food. I buy and store the mouse traps.
“They’ve been in the candy bar
bag here,” she pointed out as she began removing empty wrappers.
I counted as she pulled them
out and when she reached thirty, I knew we had a problem. Now…these are only the bite-sized variety…but
thirty? Either I had a mouse weighing
around twenty pounds and diabetic, or a village. Either way, it was going to be a challenge.
I set the traps with peanut
butter and both were cleaned out the next day without being triggered.
“Okay…it’s more than a
diabetic, fat mouse. I think it’s also a
very clever mouse…like Caesar from Planet of the Apes smart,” I told Lisa the
next day. Then it occurred to me. Snickers was the bar of choice by far and so
I loaded some of the gooey bar into two traps for the night. Next morning, I had one dead and one tripped,
but no mouse. There was a trail of blood
leading from the trap, though.
We were breeding a Super Mouse,
I feared.
Over the next several days, I
disposed of 12 mice and finally three days went by with no trap being disturbed
in any way. Epidemic over, I think, but
the possibility of a Super Mouse – too smart to mess with Snickers-laden traps
– has moved on to other hunting grounds.
I picked up Alaska Paul and
took him to Dodd’s Camera where he was purchasing a mini-camera for his
upcoming trip to Nepal. He will be
spending a week hiking above 17,000 feet and even visiting base camp for Mt.
Everest. Sherpas are mandatory and he
will only be carrying ten pounds a day, but at that elevation tying your shoes
can be exhausting. I have watched so
many different documentaries of climbs in that part of the world and have no
interest in the pain and agony, financial investment, time, and danger people
must put themselves through to be there and climb. Paul is doing his part on the cheap; just
hiking and camping at lower levels and taking in the beauty of the world’s
tallest peaks. He can only do what he
does at his age because he always takes care of himself. He maintains a trim weight, hikes, cycles,
kayaks, or runs daily. He is my hero
when it comes to retiring and seeing all the sites of the world he wants to
see. He’s checking off his bucket list,
and has been, for as long as I have known him and that goes back to high school.
We put in a four-mile hike
before returning to my place where he wolfed down two plates of spaghetti,
quinoa, and garlic bread. He always eats
like he’s been on a 7-day fast. He will
be in town for the week and so I’m thinking we’ll get in some more good
hikes. With a blizzard approaching,
hiking may be our only option.
Hike:
One hour.
Training
Heart Rate: 70-90 bpm.
Calories
Burned: 350.
Bonus:
22,000 steps
Wednesday,
January 16, 2019
Even I’m bored reading about
what I’m doing for workouts these days, so I can only imagine someone reading
because they WANT to. Better times are
coming and I’m going to keep on writing as continued motivation.
I did receive a satisfying not
from an old friend on Facebook yesterday.
It read as follows:
I have started up a serious
work out program once again and I am remembering the things you taught me when
you helped me out years ago. Back then I
was serious but I had a couple fatal flaws with my mind set. I viewed working
out as a near term goal to reach and I let everyone around who praised me for
losing all of my weight go to my head to where I left “I arrived” and
eventually I stopped taking care of myself as I should because I felt I reached
my goal. I am now viewing my health as a lifestyle change.
I
remember taking him to the woods for a Survival Workout and preaching to him
about goal setting and lifestyle changes.
Back then, as now, I need something specific to keep me on task. Yes…I like being fit, but can easily blow off
a workout when I don’t have something specific I’m targeting. Hence – trips to the Adirondacks, cycling
adventures and other challenges that help to keep me working out. My friend is realizing he needs the same and
it’s such a wonderful feeling to know that you’ve had a lasting, positive
impact on another’s life…and that they take the time to share it with you.
Dakota
and I weathered another cold night hiking in three inches of snow. Not too bad, but it certainly adds to the
effort. My heart rate walking usually
hovers in the seventies, but in the snow it is up at least ten beats. We did a short loop, but not before I’d
passed 20,000 steps for the third day in a row.
Tomorrow…Alaska Paul arrives.
Hike:
One hour.
Training
Heart Rate: 70-90 bpm.
Calories
Burned: 350.
Bonus:
22,000 steps
Tuesday,
January 15, 2019
Tuesday is rib night at Fisher’s
in downtown Peninsula and although it was in the lower 20’s, I decided my
workout was going to be a hike on the towpath into town for dinner.
The trip is four miles and it’s
flat as a pancake, but with snow and slippery conditions, it proved to be a
more difficult hike. One of the three
footbridges, closed a year ago for replacement, is still unfinished. If Trump gets his wish and if they start
building a wall because of the supposed ‘National Emergency’, I don’t think
this contractor should be involved. The
wall will take as long as it’s taking the Indians to win another World Series
with them on the job. In any event, I
got around the barrier and crossed on the temporary bridge, as all hikers have
for the past year.
The trail is a good place to
walk and think in the winter. There are
no worries about cyclists needing space to get around or even other hikers to
greet. I was alone and it was dark over
the last mile of the hike. I made it
into Peninsula in a little over 70 minutes, which is just a shade longer than
when the path is dry. I was actually
even sweating as I walked into the tavern to find Miggie, who was meeting me
for dinner and then driving me home.
As much as I enjoy walking, I
will again attest to the power of my Fitbit.
I wanted to hit 20,000 steps for the day and, along with half a slab of
ribs for only $8.99, was the motivator in taking the hike. I needed 9,000 steps when I got home and that
meant a hike of some five miles. Hence,
my trip into Peninsula.
Hike:
One hour and 10 minutes.
Training
Heart Rate: 70-90 bpm.
Calories
Burned: 400.
Bonus:
21,000 steps
Monday,
January 14, 2019
What makes one person want to
listen to live music from some loud and phenomenally talented rock band and
another just want to run from the room?
Why do some people love to watch game shows while others can’t change
the channel fast enough? What makes a
person neat and want to clean and another a version of Pig Pen?
People gravitate to things;
politics, religion, the arts, and in my case, the outdoors, for reasons I don’t
think we even consider, but simply accept and act upon. As my time for retirement draws closer, I
spend more of my hiking hours pondering what I’m going to do…and why. I don’t really know what drew me to want to
ride my bike to my grandparents in New York when I was 18. The 1,100-mile round trip effort was one of
the single most memorable things I have done in my life – many details of that
trip are still fresh whereas I can walk from one room to another and not
remember why I was going there. Then, I
believe, I was motivated by the challenge of it all, my love of cycling,
wanting to please my grandparents, and being able to brag about something I’d
done that most people couldn’t (or more accurately – wouldn’t). I have always enjoyed the spotlight and maybe
that was, and is, my greatest motivator?
If so, it moves me in a positive direction, I believe, for what bad can
come of keeping myself in shape hiking, cycling, kayaking, and
backpacking? I assure you that it all
leaves much time to go inside one’s head and ask these mostly unanswerable
questions. In any event, it makes me
feel good and I’ll keep doing it – and asking why.
I want to write in my
retirement and, not seeming to have a knack for making things up (many would
say all my factual writing is more fantasy, but that’s another story), I feel
like I need to write about what I know, which is what I have done, and so I
HAVE to do something challenging and interesting. I am wrestling with a new journey, one that
encompasses the important places and events in my life, and traveling that
route with my bike, kayak, and feet.
Retracing the steps I have taken in sixty-three years would take me from
Peninsula back through Highland Heights and Willoughby and on to Buchanan, New
York, my grandparents’ home town and the single most influential place in my childhood. From there, I would ride to Bristol, Ct., my
birthplace and home for eleven years, through New England on my way to
Gloversville and Cooperstown, New York, north through the Adirondacks to
Potsdam and Massena where my mother’s half of my family lived and lives, and
finally back to Ohio and maybe a swing around the entire state as I did with
Tour Ohio. I would certainly ride my
bike the route I took when I was 18, but opt to hike and kayak through the
Adirondacks on my want to Potsdam.
I don’t know who might find
reading about such a journey interesting and I’m not sure what it would do for
me and my thinking, but I believe somewhere along that route I may find the
answers I seek as to why I am where I am, what has made me the man I am, and
what I have to offer to others on a similar journey of discovery. For now, I will continue to work on making
the minivan the ideal sag wagon and keeping myself in the kind of shape I need
to embark upon this journey.
Hike:
One hour and 45 minutes.
Training
Heart Rate: 70-90 bpm.
Calories
Burned: 650.
Bonus:
25,000 steps
Sunday,
January 13, 2019
Adirondacks,
October, 2018
It’s hard to beat a hot shower,
a good burger and a comfortable bed after a week of sleeping on the
ground. It was a wet miserable day, so we
headed for Lake Placid and toured around the beautiful, little hamlet for the
afternoon. Justin was getting antsy and
I knew he couldn’t do anymore hiking on his bad knee, so I suggested he take my
car and drive home. “I’m pretty sure
John will give me a ride home once he gets here,” I said.
He was anxious to get going, so
we bid him goodbye and headed back to Blue Mountain to meet John. He arrived around six and after a dinner at
the local (only) tavern, we headed back to the hotel for another night of
comfort. The following morning we headed
for Newcomb and the trailhead to Camp Santanoni. Built by the Pruyn family in the 1890’s, the
15,000 square foot main lodge and many of the outbuildings used by the staff to
maintain and farm the property, are maintained by the state and in excellent
condition. It is open year round with
the main structure sitting on Newcomb Lake where boating and camping are
available. In fact, the old boat house
for the camp currently houses several kayaks and canoes available to the
public.
The road in is about a
four-mile hike, but it is packed limestone and in excellent shape. It rises and falls, but is a beautiful
hike. It took us about 90 minutes to
hike in since we explored as we hiked, but by the time we reached the main
lodge, John’s back was giving him difficulty and he needed to lay down. I was so happy I had decided that we not
continue on the Northville/Placid trail where he would most certainly had been
in even worse pain and with no easy way back out. He confirmed for himself what he was pretty
certain of…he’d lost a ton of conditioning over the past couple of years and
needed to get really serious about his training if he was to return to the
Adirondacks for hiking and climbing in any meaningful way.
By day’s end, I’d added another
12 miles to my hiking, which brought me to 100 for the week. I felt very fit and with the exception of the
blistering on my hips from the hip pads, I had experienced very manageable
difficulties. Though with the passing of
time I may soften my position, for the time being I no longer feel a strong
desire to hike several months on any of the long trails in the US. I am formulating another plan of hiking and
biking that would incorporate my personal life’s journey, but for now it’s all
about getting my van and myself ready for trips this spring and summer.
Hike:
Five hours.
Training
Heart Rate: 70-90 bpm.
Calories
Burned: 1,750.
Bonus:
25,000 steps
Wednesday,
January 9, 2019
Adirondacks,
October, 2018
I rolled out of my sleeping bag
in the morning covered in dew.
Everything was soaked and down sleeping bags, if they are to offer any
insulation, must be dry. I knew I would
be meeting up with Paul and Justin that evening and that I would be in
proximity to a small town where I could dry my bag if it needed it. I shook as much dew off as I could and
bundled it up for packing.
I ate the last of my cream of
wheat and assessed my lunch supply. I
still had three bars, but that was it.
I’d really tried to pack light when leaving the guys two days
earlier. I had a blistering wound on my
left hip where my hip belt set, which made each step painful. I bandaged it as best I could before putting
my pack on. A young couple hiked by as I
was finishing, but didn’t say hello.
They looked to be on the trail, as well.
I only needed to go 13 miles to
reach Blue Mountain and hopefully Paul and Justin would be waiting at the
trailhead. If they were not, I’d have
another 4-mile hike on the road into town and the grocery store that was
holding my resupply. After an hour of
hiking, I overtook the young couple.
“How’s it going?” I asked.
“He’s got bad blistering on
both feet from new shoes that weren’t broken in, so we’re moving kind of slow,”
the female responded.
We talked briefly about the
condition of the trail and then I started out in front of them. I would see them again when I stopped for
lunch and they overtook me. They were
also headed for Blue Mountain and hoping to get a ride into town from someone
at the Lake Durant State Park campsite located at that trailhead. It was my backup plan, as well.
I hiked through the worst
section of the trail to date with much mud and blown down and had several
issues finding discs and staying on the trail.
I was under 2 miles per hour and so it was after three by the time I
reached the state park on Lake Durant. I
saw a park employee working and asked him about rides into town.
“I’m going that way in about
ten minutes if you’d like to wait. We’re
shutting down for the season so the bathrooms are locked up,” he said.
So much for planning. I hadn’t anticipated the campgrounds being
closed and had been counting on staying the night here and getting my first hot
shower in almost a week.
Paul and Justin were not at the
trailhead and I had no cell reception to discern their whereabouts. George, the Assistant Park Ranger for the
park, drove me to the grocers where I discovered that Paul and Justin had
already gathered our resupply box. I had
a cell signal and gave them a call.
“We were looking for the
trailhead, but couldn’t find it and no one in town seemed to know where it was,”
Justin said.
“You took a picture of the
location from the map. Did you look at
it?” I asked.
“Umm…no. That would have been a good idea,” he said.
He’s pretty, but not always so
smart. I didn’t want to hurt his
feelings so I said, “you’re dumber than a box of rocks.”
They arrived at the store ten
minutes later, impressed with the time I’d made over the past three days in
getting to this point.
“How do you feel? That was a lot of miles you covered,” Justin
asked while Paul went inside and bought me a pint of ice cream and a Mountain
Dew.
“Actually, other than the
blister on my hip, I feel great!” I said and I did.
My long-time hiking partner and
best friend John was enroute to this point where had planned to hike the last
three days with us to Lake Placid. John
had gained about forty pounds since his peak hiking days and was in no kind of
shape for what lay ahead – three days of hiking over 15 miles a day through
conditions that were like to get worse before they got better. I’d already decided for him that he was not
going into those woods with me. Paul and
Justin were still rehabbing and if I got back over ten miles into the woods in
what was some of the most remote areas of the Adirondacks and John was not up
to it, it would be a struggle to get him out again. I know better than to put another’s health in
jeopardy and have a deep respect for the back country and what it can do to you…and
how quickly. I told Justin and Paul my
altered plan.
“Let’s just do some camping and
day hiking. I’ve done what I came here
to do. I now know I can handle long days
in the back country carrying a pack. I’ve
also discovered it’s not what I thought it would be. I was bored much of the time and disappointed
that there were no vistas to speak of. I’ve
been rethinking my whole plan to walk one of the major thru-trails once I
retire,” I said.
Justin was ready to return
home, but Paul was willing and able to stay and meet up with John for more
hiking. It was supposed to rain all
night and I wanted a hot shower, so Justin and I sprung for a hotel room in
town while Paul slept in his van. John
would be coming tomorrow afternoon and we’d assess the situation and plan from
there.
Hike:
Eight hours.
Training
Heart Rate: 70-120 bpm.
Calories
Burned: 5,000.
Bonus:
36,000 steps
Tuesday,
January 8, 2019
Adirondacks,
October, 2018
Paul and Justin were supposed
to meet me in two days just outside the hamlet of Blue Mountain at the
trailhead parking lot where the Northville/Placid Trail crosses SR 30. It was about 35 miles from where I’d spent
the night and 17 miles from a lean-to I was targeting for the day’s hike. I had left my tent with the guys when we’d
split up thinking I could do without the extra four pounds and that I’d make a
lean-to each night so I wouldn’t need it.
It was a good plan. Almost…
The day was more hiking in the
green tunnel with extreme amounts of blowdown to circumvent. I spent the day inside my head and talking to
myself about why I was hiking, where I was in my life, what I’d do in
retirement, how my personal life had gone and was currently going, and how
tough the trail was. Still, I felt
strong and with only one stop during the day, arrived at the lean-to around
4:30 p.m.
I walked into the site, which
overlooked Cedar River and was in an open meadow. It was the kind of site people hike miles to
reach and I was thrilled to be there for the night. It was occupied by a single thru-hiker named
Tom I’d been noticing in the trail book as I’d hiked (trail books are found at
each trailhead and all hikers are encouraged to sign in so that locations can
be determined if they should go missing.
Thru-hikers sign them all and get to know those ahead of them and often
times overtake them, depending on pace).
He spoke up immediately.
“Been on the trail for a
week. Started out with my girlfriend,
but she dropped out at Piseco. I’m on
leave from the Army and love hiking up here…,” he said, and then some.
In fact, he talked for the next
ten minutes. I did get in an occasional
word, mentioning my son was also in the Army, but he had no interest in me, my
son, or my hike. He told me a couple of
things I could do better if I wanted to be just like him (I didn’t) and when he
finally took a breath, I jumped in.
“I think I’ll just keep on
hiking. I should be able to make it to
the Wakely Dam Campsites before dark,” I said as I slung my pack back on.
I walked out of that camp
thinking I’d rather be eaten by a bear than be bored to death by him. I think I knew why his girlfriend left the
trail. I was sorry to have missed out on
the lean-to, but the skies were clear and there was no rain in the forecast.
Those last four miles were a
death march. I was exhausted and it was
approaching seven. It was completely
dark now and I had my headlamp on as I finally made it to Wakely Dam. I looked at my Fitbit and saw that I’d done
over 56,000 steps. My map indicated I’d
covered 21 miles. There was one car there as this site was off a road, but tent
sites were numerous. I dropped my gear
and immediately headed for the water to clean the salty sweat and grime of the
day from my body. I cooked up some beans
and rice, dropped my tarp on the grass and laid out my bed role and sleeping
bag. There was such a heavy dew in the
air that everything was as wet as if it had rained before I climbed into my
sleeping bag. I could have used that
tent! On the plus side, no one was
jabbering at me and the sky was as clear and full of stars as it could possibly
be. I laid there watching for and
counting shooting stars before falling into an exhausted, deep sleep.
Hike:
Ten hours.
Training
Heart Rate: 70-120 bpm.
Calories
Burned: 5,000.
Bonus:
56,000 steps.
Monday,
January 7, 2019
Adirondacks
– October, 2018
Justin walked with me along the
only street in Piseco. We saw three
people talking near a mailbox on the side of the road and stopped to inquire
about getting Paul and Justin a lift back to Northville.
“You wanna walk down past the
post office to a driveway with a pile of firewood and walk up to the house on
the hill. Jim’ll drive you down to your
car,” one of the party offered.
I left Justin at the bottom of
that driveway hoping for his sake that Jim was home. Otherwise, they’d be sticking out their
thumbs and doing it the old-fashioned way.
I re-entered the woods in
another mile with easy going along an old lumber road for the next couple of
miles. Soon though, I was back to mud
and blowdown and difficulty finding the trail discs to keep me on course. On a well-traveled trail, the discs are
rather unnecessary, but on this portion of the trail, where few people were
traveling, it was hard to spot in certain places. I went off course on a couple of occasions,
but not for long though this added to the distance I walked and the time it
took. I had planned to make it to West
Lake where there were three lean-to’s to camp for the evening. If I did, I would have managed 17 miles, but
with the late start, I’d have to hustle.
I stopped briefly for a snack
of Clif bars and pushed hard all day.
When I reached the first lean-to on the lake, it was occupied by a
family of four and so I pushed on. The
second one, about a quarter mile up the trail, had one thru-hiker and one fisherman
already stationed.
“There’s one more lean-to about
a mile further up the trail, but I think there’s a mom, daughter, and their dog
at that one. You’re more than welcome to
stay with us,” the thru-hiker offered.
Lean-to’s can handle five
people comfortably and up to eight if you get really cozy. They are first come-first served and always a
welcome site after a long day of hiking and a disinclination to set up a tent. I thanked them and opted to keep moving since
one more mile tonight was one closer to my destination.
I arrived at the last lean-to
and did find the mom and daughter team.
Their dog, a black lab named Shadow, ran to greet me, tail wagging. I believe dogs have a good sense of who they
can approach and how, knowing danger from a dog lover. I, of course, was the latter. I explained to the mom and her teen-aged
daughter that this was the last lean-to and since it was practically dark, I
was hoping they didn’t mind if I shared it with them. The mom greeted me warmly and they made room.
As I was packing to leave the
next morning, the mom told me how she’d trusted me immediately after Shadow ran
up to me and the way that I greeted her.
“We were in a lean-to once when a male hiker came in and Shadow began to
growl. He had this large hunting knife
strapped to his leg and I decided that we’d push on and camp somewhere
else. I trust Shadow’s instincts,” she
said.
I completely understood her
statement. Dakota does the same thing
for me and I know that I can ignore my own instincts in an effort not to seem
rude. Alone in the woods is not the
place to disregard those warning signals.
I thanked her for the kind words and wished them well and began a hike
that would, if executed, take me over twenty miles for the day. If so, I would break my single-day, Fit Bit
indicated ‘steps’ for a day. I’d set it
the day before and it stood at 45,000.
Hike:
Ten hours.
Training
Heart Rate: 70-120 bpm.
Calories
Burned: 5,000.
Bonus:
45,000 steps.
Sunday, January 6, 2016
Adirondacks – October, 2018.
We dropped Justin off with our
packs at the official trailhead in the woods outside of the town of
Northville. Paul and I drove back to the
town and parked his Sprinter in the designated parking lot for thru-hikers and
walked the four miles back to Justin.
Day one was all about breaking
in our bodies for all-day hiking with 45 pounds on your back. I worried about my foot, but the problem
never materialized. The terrain was what
I expected; rugged, full of rocks, some blowdown and mud, and very little to
see. Much of the Appalachian Trail is
described as the ‘Green Tunnel’ because it passes through miles of deciduous
forests with no views. The
Northvile/Placid is no different and with the exception of a couple of ponds,
we walked in a ‘green tunnel’.
A woman with two dogs had
entered the woods about an hour ahead of us with the plan of camping just
beyond Benson Road – a possible location I’d identified to spend our first
night as well. We had gone several miles
when we spotted her heading our way.
“I reached a river and couldn’t
see any way to cross,” she said. “It’s
wide and looks deep and my one pup here would never be able to make the
crossing. I went up stream about a mile,
but never saw any kind of bridge.”
“We’ll help you cross if you
want to go back,” I offered, though I had no idea what that would look like.
She declined and we pushed on
wondering about the river and what we were up against. We reached West Stoney Creek and saw
immediately what she’d been talking about.
It was over 100’ wide and based on the rocks peeking up at different
points, appeared to be at least hip deep in several spots. I had packed my Teva sandals for just such an
occasion and after scouting up and down the river for several hundred feet,
finally noticed a cairn on the far bank almost directly across from where the
trail had brought us to the river’s edge.
“There is no bridge. This is the crossing point,” I said,
indicating the cairn on the far side. A
cairn is a small pile of rocks in the shape of a pyramid normally standing
about two feet high to indicate trail direction in spots where hikers might be
uncertain and confused. They are also
found on peaks above tree line to mark safe passage when blazes painted on bare
rock face may be covered in snow or a fog may prevent one from seeing ahead far
enough to walk without heading off the edge of a mountain side. I sat down, took off my pack, and began to
take off my shoes and socks and put on my sandals. I was up in three minutes and put my pack
back on, but did not cinch the hip strap.
I needed to be able to get out of the pack easily if I went down in
deep, fast-moving water so it would not drag me under and drown me. Better to search down-stream for a wet pack
later. I looked across and determined my
best course across and stepped into the frigid water.
“Okay…it’s damned cold…and
slippery,” I said as Paul began to follow.
He’s stripped off his pants and was down to his underwear. I looked once and decided I didn’t need to
see that while I was trying to remain upright.
“Seriously…Paul…no pants?” I
said, and continued across.
I almost lost it on two or
three occasions when the water reached mid-thigh and the current was pushing
particularly hard against me. I had ski
poles in each hand though, and they were helping tremendously to keep me on my
feet. I made the crossing in about five
minutes with Paul and Justin not too far behind. I would not have liked to have been carrying
a dog in my arms and was happy the woman had declined my offer.
We sat down for lunch on the
far side and were there several minutes when Justin began looking for his worn,
tattered ball cap. He failed to locate
it. I had taken his picture during his
crossing and quickly pulled it up for review.
“It ain’t on your head at the
halfway point which we have me conclude its back on the other side,” I said.
He never even stopped to think
about it and plunged back into the river to recover it. I suppose I’d have done the same if it was my
‘John Deere’ hat.
We
traveled about 13 miles before making camp and considering the late start –
about 11 a.m. on the actual trail – it wasn’t a bad days effort.
Paul and Justin started going
off the rails on day two. Paul’s back
began to bother him and Justin’s knee was in pain and inflamed. Both were slowing considerably with the last
hour seeing only a mile of progress. I
was feeling pretty good; the normal soreness from an all-day hike, but was
starting to worry about my partners. We
made camp, cooked and built a fire, and began the process of rest and
recovery…for 12 hours.
Day three was their
undoing. The trail was rugged and slow
with blowdowns and mud for much of the distance covered. We made only 12 miles for the day before
making camp. I have hiked with Paul for
years and he is always supremely fit, but his back was making each step painful
and slow. I woke in the middle of the
night to go to the bathroom and could barely get on my shoes I was so sore all
over. I got back in my sleeping bag
thinking, ‘what’s the point? No views,
everyone’s suffering and it isn’t much fun’.
I nodded off thinking I’d tell them I was ready to pull off the trail
and just go camping somewhere and hike peaks that were more interesting if
their and my bodies permitted.
I didn’t have a chance to say
anything in the morning before Paul announced he would get off the trail in
Piseco, a small town we would be passing through late morning.
“I think I better join him,”
Justin said.
I told them what I’d been
thinking last night about getting off the trail myself, but after three hours
of hiking that morning, I realized all aches and pains were gone and I was
feeling fantastic. We reached the road
around 11 a.m. where I announced I’d continue on alone and meet them three days
later in Blue Mountain. They would hitch
a ride back to Northville and drive there to meet me. I gathered the food I would need from their
packs, handed off a couple of items to lighten my load, and re-entered the
woods. I was way behind my plan to hike
15 miles a day and was determined to begin making up some of it. I’d only covered four miles to Piseco and it
was already around noon, so I’d have to walk late and hard. I felt ready to do it.
Thursday,
January 3, 2019
I’d been training for two
months for my 130-mile hike of the Northville/Placid Trail in the Adirondack
Mountains of upstate New York. I figured
on hiking approximately 15 miles a day over what would likely be very rugged
terrain carrying a pack of between 35-45 pounds (starts at 45 and gets lighter
as I eat the food before resupplying).
Training included some cycling, but mostly hiking long miles with my new
REI backpack filled with some gear and a bag of rock salt. It weighed in around forty pounds.
My biggest concern was the
plantar fascia I’d been suffering with since doing a three-mile run in late
May. I hadn’t run in several years prior
to the three-miler, but I was in good shape and it felt so easy that I kept
going. The next day my troubles began
and it was on the same foot I’d had surgery performed two years earlier. Dumb.
My foot remained sore
throughout the summer. With only two
weeks remaining before the hike, I decided to buy new hiking shoes…a brand I’d
never tried before…from REI. I was
approached by a sales person and asked if I needed assistance. I explained the kind of hiking I did,
including climbing on open rock. She
pulled a shoe from the displays as a starting point. I quickly flipped it over in search of the yellow
‘vibram’ trademark emblem that would indicate the rubber sole was, in fact,
vibram, which was the standard in all brand of hiking shoes for hikers looking
for good grip on bare and wet rock.
“This shoe doesn’t have vibram,”
I said, quickly discarding it.
I could see the puzzled look on
her face as she took the shoe back from me.
“It’s really a great shoe! In
fact, I’m wearing it. It’s top of the
line and expensive, I know,” she said, thinking I was afraid of the
sticker. I wasn’t.
“All that may be true, but
everything I read, everyone I know, any shoe company I’ve tried and my personal
experience says go with vibram for the best grip,” I replied.
I could tell she was frustrated
by my attitude. Basically, I was saying
I knew more about hiking shoes than her.
I didn’t know if I did or not and maybe something had changed over the
past year with some kind of new and improved shoe sole, which surely was
possible. John was with me and gave her
a smile saying, “he just likes to give shoe clerks a hard time.”
I don’t, but I had with him
along once. I told him it didn’t have
vibram, but he stuck with her on the issue.
“Look…sell me. Tell me why I should go against everything I
know to date as to why I should give up vibram soles for what you’ve got there,”
I said in a conciliatory tone.
She thought for a moment, but
it was clear that she didn’t know anything about vibram and therefore didn’t
know where to start. “How about we talk
to Jeff over there. He’s the expert on
hiking shoes and he can tell you why this one is so good,” she said, still
holding the shoe.
Jeff came over and I began by explaining
what kind of hiking I did and what his recommendation was.
“Start with a vibram sole,” he
said matter-of-factly.
Which is exactly what I
did. I found a shoe with a higher arch
to support the plantar fascia, took it home and headed out for a trail with the
pack fully loaded. Over the next two
weeks I did this every day in addition to wearing the shoe to work. I wanted it well broken in. Slowly, the pain dissipated. It was gone completely, but it reached a
level where I figured I could deal with the pain if I carried some pain killers
in my pack.
I had hiking companions for the
trip. Justin from the farm and Alaska
Paul were all in and excited to be hiking.
We drove two cars north on October 5th, depositing one in Lake
Placid at the trailhead where we’d be coming out of the woods in ten days,
driving back to the midpoint and a local grocer who had agreed to hold our food
for re-supply in the town of Blue Mountain where we camped for the night. We’d give the food to the grocer at seven in
the morning, when they opened, and then drive to Northville, leave the other
vehicle, and begin our hike north.
Wednesday,
January 2, 2019
New Year’s Resolutions:
1.
Get
my financial house in order and ready for retirement.
2.
Sweat
out my decision to get my financial house in order and retire.
Oh Lord…here we go. I was planning on ending my full-time working
career on December 31st, but decided it was too soon
financially. I would have had to wrestle
with the health care issue and everything I’ve heard from people using the
Affordable Care Act (now unconstitutional (?) because Congress said ‘no’ to
penalties for not signing up if you’re uninsured), it can be quite
expensive. Earning a salary, having
health care benefits and five weeks of vacation time, doing a job a like almost
all the time (not when it’s snowing and cold…that part sucks), and being able
to pay all my bills while saving some money AND contributing to my retirement
account, is kind of nice. As when my
wife of 39 years decided to leave me, everything changes once I retire and that
can be scary…until you work out the details.
Anyway, I’ll be 64 in April and
next December, only four months from 65 and Medicare. I could work through until age 65, but then I’d
have to handle another winter working outside and I’d rather not. I’ll cross that bridge in a year, but for now
I’m saying 363 days to go.
Okay…exercise and other stuff:
3.
Complete
improvements to the minivan so it is road ready for camping/cycling/kayaking
trips.
I’ve started, but not with the
urgency that a pending trip creates.
Winter is hard because I don’t have a good way to cut wood inside
anymore. Maybe I’ll take it to the farm
on the weekend and work in my shop.
Level floors, heated, tools aplenty.
That’s the ticket.
4.
Back
to basics workouts.
I’m really noticing the aches and
pains and the lack of flexibility as well as the loss of muscle tone. I haven’t done the workout consistently for
two years and it shows. Having to work
all day and drive home feeling compelled to take Dakota on a long walk or to
get in a bike ride has changed my focus away from this essential part of my
life. I know the result of not
maintaining muscle tone (my job is quite physical and has kept me in decent
shape, but it’s not enough) and I have to get that back.
Those are the big things and if
I can accomplish them all, I’ll have a very good 2019. Hope I keep writing and that you will follow
my progress…
