To Blog or Not to Blog: That is the Question

 I finally caught up my blog and am looking at usage statistics.  For my last nine posts, the most recent first, I have the following "hits:"

Powhatan State Park Hike: 13

Mountains in the Snow: 12

January Overnight in the Mountains: 19

Starting 2021 Off Right: 16

Final 2020 Non-Mountain Hikes: 14

Hiking to Blackrock Shelter: 18

Final 2020 Shenandoah Hikes: 17

Wrapping up 2020: 15

The Lazarus Woodpeckers: 30

That's an average of only about 17 views per post, and some of those are certainly various web services which automatically look at pages to calculate usage, not real people reading about a hike.  I got a total of 5 comments on the nine posts, so about a half comment for every post on average.  Bottom line is, I am not getting a lot of interest in the blog.  

I have a sore foot right now from new boots rubbing it wrong.  So I probably won't hike for a week or so.  Then I will decide whether to continue the blog or not.  If I see a bunch of comments from people saying that they like reading about my hikes, then I am more likely to continue the blog for the rest of the year, because that will indicate some interest.  Otherwise, I am inclined to shut this blog down after 12+ years.

Wrapping Up 2020!

 I haven't posted in a while, despite hiking a number of times.  In fact, from October (after healing from abdominal surgery) through December, I went hiking 15 times.  Most of them were quite short, the longest hike being 9 miles and the shortest being 1.3 miles.  I ended up only hiking 121 miles in all of 2020, but given all the medical issues, at least it was something.

So what I will do in the coming days are a few things:

1.  I'll write a post or two summarizing the hikes I did in the mountains late in the year.

2. I'll write a post or two summarizing the hikes I did away from the mountains late in the year.

3. I'll post about a couple of backpacking hikes I've made to start 2021 off.

4. I'll make a judgement about whether to continue the blog or not, or put it to sleep.

Happy New Year, and Happy Trails!

Why the Heck am I Not Hiking????

 Back in March, I mentioned that I had a coronary artery blockage and needed three stents to be placed.  I was sure that I would be hiking in early May.  But in mid-April, I had agonizing abdominal pain and vomiting, which I initially thought was due to giving birth to an alien!  After a couple of ER visits and hospital stays a week apart, they finally figured out the problem - gallstones!  Since I'd only had the stents placed a month ago, stopping the blood thinners for the removal of the gallbladder was too risky.  They told me that I had to wait a minimum of five more months.  So they put in a gall bladder drain - don't ask - which has been a pain to deal with but allows me to eat without getting the pain because it essentially negates having a gall bladder.  Along the way, I had more problems - pain, nausea, and liver damage - that appears to be related to flushing the drain line three times a day.  In late June - after losing a total of 25 pounds since March - my doctor said that I should stop flushing the drain, and the problems for the last three months have been minimal.  And my liver values, while still high in a couple of cases, are moving in the right direction, and a couple of them are finally normal again.  Plus, I've gained back about five pounds.

If all goes well, my surgery is about a month away.  I'll be laid up for 2-4 weeks after that, and then hopefully can start getting back in shape, and maybe starting some easy hikes in mid to late October.

Fingers crossed, but boots not laced - yet!

The Beat Goes On!

On March 8, a Sunday, I hiked nine miles in the mountains.  While it was not a steep hike, there was continuous uphill one way and downhill on the return for the two out and back hikes.  I had no problems or shortness of breath, or feeling tired.

On Tuesday night, two days later, I had pretty severe chest pain about 11PM and went to the emergency room.  The ECG - all three of them - showed no heart attack, but they admitted me about 3AM for more testing.  As things turned out, they decided they needed to look inside my coronary arteries and found that two of them were blocked!  One was 100% blocked and one was 90% blocked.  Three stents later, they were open and blood was flowing again.  The cardiologist told me that he believed I had had a minor heart attack with no permanent damage.  I spent another night in the hospital and then got sent home Thursday afternoon.

I'm not overweight, not a smoker, never do drugs, and drink very moderately.  Plus, I get a lot of exercise.  My diet is not perfect - butter, cheese, ice cream, and salt have been my pals.  But my diet is not horrible either.  In the hospital, my cholesterol was about 180.  Despite all that, I had major blockages.  I now have enough medications to supply a pharmacy in a third-world country.  I am trying to eat very carefully.  And I got permission to start walking again, starting slowly, about a week ago.  I was going to participate in a cardio rehabilitation program and had my orientation earlier this week, but then they shut the program down yesterday because of the COVID-19 pandemic.  I was looking forward to being monitored while exercising, so that is a bummer.

My dad needed a triple-bypass in his mid-50's so maybe I have some genetic risk factors.  That seems to be the most likely thing that caused this.  The cardiology nurse told me that all my walking and hiking probably delayed something that was almost inevitable, given that I do eat a certain amount of saturated fats.  And my blood pressure was high, which was never a problem before, so now I am taking my BP at home a few times a day.

I won't do any serious hiking until May, when I have another cardiology appointment.  But I am walking and am up to about 2 miles.  My goal will be to get to three miles in a few more days and four by the end of next week.

A few weeks ago, I was planning on hiking strongly the rest of March and into April.  Now, I feel grateful to be healthy and look forward to hitting the trails in about a month, assuming they don't shut the parks down.  Shenandoah is still open, but camping anywhere in it is off limits, and certain really popular trails are closed, all due to the pandemic.

Happy trails, folks!

Wrapping Up 2019

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

In 2019, I took over 5,000,000 steps, walking an estimated 2,470 miles.  Of this, 422 miles were hiking on trails, the first time I've ever hiked over 400 miles in a year.

Some other stats: I hiked 384 miles as day hikes, and only 38 miles while backpacking.  It was not a good year for backpacking.  I cancelled two trips when I got sick, another to go to my step-mother's memorial service, and at least two more when our cat got sick.  Maybe I'll manage more in 2020 - that's my goal at least, once I start hiking again.

I hiked 100 miles by myself, and 322 miles with groups, including 159 miles with the Old Dominion Appalachian Trail Club.  I went backpacking once with a group and once by myself.  I finished most of the trails in the Southern District of Shenandoah National Park.  I have about 200 miles left to hike in the entire park, which probably means hiking closer to 400 miles, since so many are out and back, or I have to repeat some sections I've already done to get to a trail that I haven't hiked yet.

My favorite hikes of the year?  The Grayson Highlands backpacking trip, my November backpacking trip over Rockytop, the ODATC hike on the AT from Stony Man to Thornton Gap, and the three Road Scholar hikes for June, July, and October - which I got paid for!

Future of this Blog

In a word - undecided.  I've done a fair amount of hiking since my last post, especially leading two Road Scholars groups - one in June and one in July - for a week of hiking in Shenandoah National Park.  And I went for a hike with a group yesterday up in the Blue Ridge.  But I haven't been motivated to write posts on these yet, and my computer is having problems connecting to the internet (I'm writing this on an iMac, which I have limited experience with and knowledge of).

So I need to think some more about the blog's future.  Keep on?  Only post really great hikes? Pull the plug?  Not sure.

Out with the Old, in with the New!

I was lucky enough to retire during 2018, and thus got to hike more.  To summarize:

27 hikes total for 356.6 miles.
5 were backpacking trips of two to nine days for 238.1 miles
The other 22 hikes were day hikes for 118.5 miles.

I haven't thought much about goals for 2019.  I would like to hit 400 miles though, and maybe half of that backpacking.  I'd like to get out backpacking more often but maybe not for as many long trips.  Of my backpacking trips, two involved a total of four nights, and the other three involved a total of 20 nights.

I'd like to complete all of the miles in at least one section of Shenandoah National Park, probably the southern section.  I hope to do that by camping out more so I can hike several days for each trip all the way up to the mountains.

I'd like to go on at least one week-long backpacking trip.

I did more hiking with groups than solo, and I'd like to continue that trend.  And I led a number of hikes last year, including 3 of the backpacking trips.  I want to keep leading hikes, but would like to get some first aid training.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

If I Ever Get to Isle Royale Again...

I may never get back to Isle Royale National Park again.  It took me over 40 years to get back after my first visit, it is hard to get to, and there are many other places to see and trails to hike.  But if I am ever fortunate enough to get back to this amazing place, what would I do differently?

Planning - I'd probably plan at least one extra day if I were traveling by air.  I missed my flight home when the ferry couldn't make the run out to get us because of a gale.  I'd also throw a little extra food - Kind bars, trail mix, dried fruit - into the kit in case I got delayed on island.  But I'd only need to do that if I were going in late September or October when they close the stores.  In the main season, if you end up at Windigo or Rock Harbor for the ferry, there will be stores that are open.

Camping - I'd be less concerned with getting a shelter.  I'd probably take my two man tent to have a little room.  I'd make sure to camp at least one night at Moskey Basin, and there, I would shoot for one of the shelters.  I might also try to get to Lane Cove, which was on the list but didn't work out.

Food storage - Would I bring my bear canister again?  I am not sure.  The park service recommends them.  The squirrels are aggressive but we never saw a fox in camp.  Hanging one's food is out - it's like a red squirrel dinner invitation.  In the shelters, the food seems safe.  In a tent, I am not so sure, as both squirrels and mice can chew through a tent.  None of my companions had a single problem but we mostly stayed in shelters.

Night Sky - I'd probably pick a clear night and stay up really late at least once looking at the stars.  If I were really lucky and had the open view to the north, maybe seeing the Northern Lights could happen.

Route - I'd camp on some of the inland lakes, and I would spend more time on the Greenstone Ridge Trail.  If possible, I'd catch the boat to Hidden Lake and see that and Lookout Louise, and hike back to Rock Harbor.  I'd also look into a route that would get me to Windigo, and catch the Voyageur back to Rock Harbor.

Time of Year - I'd give up on seeing the fall foliage.  I think to do that, you have to go at the very end of the season, using the ferry from Minnesota.  I might consider August because the ferry from Copper Harbor runs every day.  I'd probably avoid June because the black flies must be horrendous up here.  May would be cold and wet but the wildlife sightings could be amazing.

Family - I'd love to bring my granddaughter and her mother here.  If so, I'd probably do a 3-4 night trip, with one or two days at a remote site and the rest at Rock Harbor.  Two days remote would give the ability to hike into an area, like Three Mile, with full packs and then spend a day relaxing and day hiking with light packs.  I'd probably only bring food for the overnight part, and buy food for the meals in Rock Harbor at the camp store.

Isle Royale is an amazing and magical place.  If you love nature, hiking, and the outdoors, I suggest that you find a way to get there.  If you hate camping or backpacking, go at a time when the lodge is open and stay there.

Through-Hikers and Trail Magic

During my aborted hike along the Appalachian Trail in Shenandoah National Park, I spent the second and last night of the trip at the Pass Mountain Shelter.

I was hiking alone at that point, since my hiking partner, Hawkeye, had blown his knee out a few hours earlier.  I wondered if anyone else would be at the shelter, and when I got there, I ran into Ozone and Mittens, a father and his young son who we had run into on and off the past two days.  They were getting ready to leave the trail as Ozone was worried about his son's sleeping bag keeping him warm that night.  As it turns out, it was not nearly as cold as the prior night.

Shortly after they left, a through-hiker, Dirty Bird, showed up.  We chatted for a bit, and then five other through-hikers rolled in, one or two at a time: Hydro, Max, String Bean, Toast, and Ducky. They had started hiking in northern Maine, at Mount Katahdin, in July, and had the goal of reaching Springer Mountain in Georgia before Christmas.  I really enjoyed chatting with them and hearing their stories from the trail as we cooked dinner.  One of them reconstituted a campfire from the embers that a big party of picnickers had left, and we talked around the fire for several hours.  A few of the hikers came in well after dark, hiking by headlamp.  They were all lean and fit, used to putting in 15-25 miles a day on the trail.  Most were pretty young but Max was 50, and doing the hike as a way to celebrate the Big Five-O and attain a life-long dream.

As people were starting to cook their suppers, Max said "I need to get a new stove.  I have not had a hot meal on the trail since the 100 Mile Wilderness (which is in northern Maine) when my stove broke."  I said, "You know, I have plenty of food, go ahead and pick out a meal."  Max said, "That's too generous, I could not ask for that," to which I replied "You're not asking, I'm offering.  Go ahead.  My food bag is hanging from that tree over there.  Pick out a meal."  So he did, picking out my "Curry in a Hurry" that I packed since I like it so much.  I fired up my stove, and he just kept thanking me over and over, saying how much he was going to enjoy the hot meal, and how much he loves curry.  And he did obviously savor it!  He said "I never, ever expected to receive 'Trail Magic' at a trail shelter."  His last words to me when he left the shelter in the morning were "Thanks again for the meal, Warrior!"

"Trail Magic" is when someone does something nice for a through-hiker: gives them a ride, offers them a place to stay off-trail or a meal and a hot shower, lets them wash their clothing, hands out snacks or candy or cold drinks at trail junctions, and so forth.  It is a good thing to do, because these folks endure a lot of hardship and discomfort to attain their dream of hiking the 2,180 miles of trail.  So I was glad that, in some small way, I could make a fellow hiker's day a little more enjoyable.

"Fall Colors!"

Ah, nothing like fall: warm, crisp days; cool nights; starry skies; beautiful colors!

But on my Raven Rocks hike in Kumbrabow State Forest a week ago, I encountered a different type of fall.  Coming down a steep section that was sloped to the left, the trail builders had laid down some logs - about 3 inches in diameter - in a wet spot.  Like the trail, they sloped to the left and they turned out to be very slippery.  I stepped on one as I said something to one of my brothers.  So quickly I barely realized what was happening, my feet shot out to the left as if I had stepped on ice, and I landed on my right arm.  My right arm exactly landed - about two inches down from my elbow - on one of the slippery logs.  Although I didn't hear a "snap," I hit with such force and the pain was so great - driven all the way up into my quirky right shoulder - that I was sure I had broken something.  My brothers offered to take my pack as I sat in the trail.  I told them that I thought my arm was broken and to just hold on.  After a while, I tried moving my fingers, twisting my arm, and grasping a hiking pole.  I told them that I was OK, and stood up.  We started walking again.  Within 10 minutes, my forearm was swollen out about an inch and a half.

Back at camp, I iced the area of impact and carried on.  The pain has gradually gotten worse during the week but seems to have peaked.  Today, it is no worse and no better than it was yesterday.  The bruise is spectacular - the photo below does not do it justice.  It goes from my elbow to halfway up my palm, and the pain extends up about 3/4 of the way along my forearm.  The doctor I saw yesterday told me it was not broken, but that I had crush damage to muscles and possibly tendons, lots of bleeding, and bone bruising, which causes bleeding on the bone surface and even inside the marrow.  He said to rest my arm - no working out - and try to keep it elevated above the level of my heart so that the lymphatic system would transport the blood away and reduce the swelling some.  Keeping your arm elevated while working - especially one's right arm - is not an easy matter, but I am trying.

My "Fall Colors"

Depending on how long the pain lasts, this could end my hiking for a while.  I don't want the exercise of using a trekking pole while it hurts this much, and one article that I read said that the pain from this type of blunt force injury can last for months.  We'll see - I still have some plans!

I think that falls are the number one cause of death and injury in the back country.  I've never taken a fall while hiking before, at least not a full fledged fall.  I did slip and bang my hip really hard a year or so ago on an urban hike on slick rocks, and that hurt for a good week.  But it didn't hurt nearly as much as this has.  I have a new respect for falls now.  I have strong legs, great balance, and very quick reactions, and none of those helped me a bit this time.  Even my trekking poles were useless this time.  They must not have been planted on soil.

It is an experience that I hope not to repeat anytime soon.  But all in all, I was lucky. You are talking 180 pounds of force dropping essentially from a distance of about 4.5 feet and all that force landing on about two square inches of my arm.  I could have snapped the radius like a twig, but didn't.  So I will take it easy and deal with the pain for a while.

Just a Number

Although 60 is not the new 30 - no matter who says what - it is true that age is just a number.  Exhibit A: look at the photo below.  It probably does not look remarkable - two men on a trail in the mountains.

Now, look again - the mountain in the back is Mount Washington in New Hampshire, the highest mountain east of the Mississippi and north of North Carolina.  It is a tough slog up there - trust me!  Look at the men - the guy in the orange hat is my friend Dick.  He is 89 and a half, and at the end of the second day of a three day hike up there last week with his grandson.  He goes every year, and plans on doing it when he is 100.  I plan on joining him on that one!

Exhibit B.  Well, I think Exhibit A is enough.  No matter your age, enjoy life and do things while you can, because some day, there is a guarantee for every single one of us that we will no longer be able to do the same things, or anything for that matter.  So get out there and enjoy the beautiful things in nature every chance you get.

Seven years ago, by the way, it was my younger brother and I that made this trip with Dick.  Strolling down memory lane, here are a few photos from July 2007.

Ultimate Hiker or Ultimate Camper?

I recently began reading a great book that I bought a few months ago: "The Ultimate Hiker's Gear Guide" by Adventurer (the Capital "A" was intentional, cause this guy is a real Adventurer!) Andrew Skurka.  I mean, this guy has done 30,000 miles of long distance hikes, including the 4,700 mile Alaska - Yukon Expedition!  He once spent 11 months traveling 7,800 miles coast to coast, including 1,400 miles on snowshoes through Michigan, Wisconsin, and Northern Minnesota.  So yeah, Adventurer! I highly recommend this book to any hiker or backpacker.

In the first part of the book, the author discusses backpackers as being either Ultimate Hikers vs. Ultimate Campers.  One of the key characteristics separating these two groups is the type of fun one loves to have in the outdoors.  Type 1 Fun is fun at the time and fun to talk about later.  Type 2 Fun is not really fun at the time, but fun to talk about later.  And then there is Type 3 Fun, which is not fun at the time and not fun to talk about later, although how can that be considered "fun?"  In my mind, type 1 fun might be a back country trip with great weather, great scenery, or great wildlife where you are never too exhausted, wet, cold, or hot.  Type 2 fun might be the same great scenery or wildlife, but maybe the miles are long and exhausting, or your tent fails and you are soaked for days, or a bear eats most of your food with three days to go.  Type 3 fun?  Well, that probably has some element of tragedy, like you lose fingers or toes to frostbite, or someone on the trip dies - not fun in any respect, I should say.

Among other things, the author characterizes Ultimate Hikers as wanting trips dominated more by Type 2 fun, whereas Ultimate Campers are more into Type 1 Fun - fun at the time, and fun to talk about later.  Some other key differences: Ultimate Hikers tend to want tough challenges, they have a long hike with very long (20-30 mile) days as their primary objective, are more knowledgeable about being comfortable and safe in the outdoors, are very gear conscious and scrutinize every item in their pack, and tend to arrive in camp late and leave camp to hit the trail very early.  Ultimate Campers tend to have some other kind of objective as their primary goal - birding, hunting, photography, backcountry cooking - as opposed to just wanting to do a long and arduous walk.  They tend to carry more gear to be prepared for anything that could reasonably happen, have a more relaxed daily itinerary, and don't have as high a skill level because they carry gear and supplies that don't require high skills to use.

I have to say, I am more of an Ultimate Camper, although I would like to acquire more trip knowledge and gear knowledge such as the Ultimate Hikers and ultra-light backpackers have.  But I am definitely more into Type 1 Fun, that is for sure.  Of course, I've had my share of Type 2 Fun at times, and enjoy recalling it.  The time I camped out without a tent and got eaten alive by mosquitos all night while a fox crept up in the dark to sniff my face.  The time I spent hours drying out from a hellacious thunder and hail storm only to fall into a river trying to photograph a moose.  The many times when I packed stupidly and staggered for miles feeling like an abused pack mule, reaching camp too exhausted to do anything but put up a tent and crawl inside.  I could go on, but won't.  So anyhow, yeah, it is mostly Type Fun I am into when I hike and backpack!  However, I am willing to become more of an Ultimate Hiker and do some longer trips, which pretty much ensures at least some Type 2 Fun.  So a trip with a mixture of type 1 and type 2 fun would be all right.

What about you? Where would you fit in this categorization?  Would you be more of an Ultimate Hiker or an Ultimate Camper?

Trail Names

I've read a couple of books lately by people who have done long hikes - one on the Pacific Crest Trail and one on the Appalachian trail.  I just finished the latter one last night, and I find the trail names kind of fascinating.  For example, from the book about the AT through-hike, in 1994, here is a sampling of trail names:  White Rabbit, Del Doc, Boots, Earth Frog, Jett Butt, Methuselah, Sunday, Feather, Geezer, Poet, Magoo, Sher Bear, SourBall, and Gourmet John.  And that is a small subset of long distance hikers that the book's author, Indiana Jean, met on her hike of nearly 2,200 miles.

I don't have a trail name, I guess because I have not done any truly long hikes beyond maybe a week - if that.  My friend Hawkeye (who I am planning a four day hike with later this year) tried giving me Da Vinci (Art) as a trail name but it didn't really stick so far.  Another guy once called me "Professor" once when I was fiddling with my GPS.  And one of my current teammates on the marathon team calls me Pepe' Le Pew (because of my steady, "effortless" stride that eats the miles, not because of the way I smell - at least I think that is the reason)!  But that name would not fit me while long distance hiking, because I would be stopping to suck oxygen far more often than I would keep a steady, never faltering stride. When I was younger, "Kitchen Sink" might have been a good trail name for me, because I seemed to carry everything but the kitchen sink on my treks. But while hardly an ultralight hiker, I have gotten more intelligent about what I pack as I've gotten older.

I guess the thing about trail names is that someone else has to give you that moniker - I don't think that you can pick your own trail names.  So maybe I need to do more long hikes and see what people come up with.

For people out there who happen across this post - do you have a trail name?  If so, what is it, and how did you get it?

Thinking Back 10 years

I've been thinking this week of how I hiked up Tumbledown Mountain in Maine 10 years ago on August 24, and how much that meant to me.  I am not going to repeat the story - you can read it in the link above if you are interested.  The photo shows the three of us from my group that went on to the top.  You can see the lake well behind us, and one of the summits in the distance beyond the lake.

It's great to be healthy, 11 years after cancer, and 10 years after struggling a bit to make this hike about eight months after wrapping up chemotherapy.  I hope to keep going strong, but know very well that life holds no guarantees.  So it is important to be grateful for what you have, and to live each day to the extent you can that day - given the responsibilities that each of us have.

A return to Tumbledown Mountain is on my "bucket list."  It is amazing how fast time goes by, though, so I guess I'd better find a way to make that happen.  The 10 years since I went there to hike up the mountain and to celebrate our friend's big 5-0 have gone by in a blur.  Now, my friend just turned 60 and we couldn't make it this time - just not enough vacation time with the trips to California and Michigan.  The mountain is still there, waiting, and will be there longer than my time on the earth.  I just need to find time to get back, and make sure that I am strong and healthy enough to repeat the hike to the top, with cancer so far in the past that I can barely remember it any more.

5,089,681!

A year ago on this date, a few days after my birthday, I put a battery in my long dormant pedometer.  I thought it would be kind of fun to see how many steps I would take in a year, ending July 18 - a couple of days after my next birthday.  How fast that year has gone by!

And so, the answer is 5,089,681 steps, or an overall average of 13,983 steps per day.  That is essentially enough steps to cover the entire Appalachian Trail from Springer Mountain in George to Mount Katahdin in northern Maine!

My biggest step day of that year was June 9, when I took 47,448 steps.  My second biggest day was the day before, when I took 37,045 steps.  Both these days were on my Shackleford Banks backpacking trip.

I guess I will keep my pedometer charged and active, and see how many steps I take in the coming year.

Is God a Team in Training Fan?

Anyone who knows me knows that I a fan of Team in Training, the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's endurance athletics program to raise money in support of their mission to cure blood cancers and support blood cancer patients.  Starting eight years ago, I've done five events with Team in Training, while raising money from generous people in each one: the Midnight Sun Marathon in Anchorage, Alaska; the San Diego Marathon; the Arizona Marathon in Phoenix, Scottsdale, and Tempe; the Country Music Half Marathon in Nashville, Tennessee; and the Seattle Half Marathon.  Along the way, I got to see parts of the country I'd never seen, and also got to do some things in the great outdoors, such as seeing my first grizzly bear in Lake Clark National Park, and hiking in Saguaro and Mount Rainier National Parks.

Completing a marathon or half marathon - especially the first time - is an amazing feeling.  Completing one as a cancer survivor?  Well, that magnifies that feeling ten-fold!  Plus, I have met many incredible people through Team in Training.  When I am doing it, I do tend to hike less, which is one negative.  When you are running five days a week, several of them long distance, it takes away from then energy one has for hiking and for other things.  But I am still a big fan.  I hope to do my sixth event this year, if my left knee and right foot cooperate.  I may have to do the event as a walker rather than a runner, but that is perfectly okay.

But what about God?  Is God a Team in Training fan?  Well, on Thursday's hike to Staunton River State Park, I found conclusive evidence that the answer is "Yes!"  Here it is, in TNT's purple and green colors:

As I stood there, I thought I heard a faint "Go Team!" carried in the breeze.

Actually, believe that God is a big fan of anything we humans do that is good for ourselves and for others, and Team in Training qualifies, big time! 

The Bookstore

I know that this blog is about hiking, not books, but every now and then, I decide to stray off topic - writers prerogative, I guess.  Today is one of those days.

The other day, I made an impulse buy while browsing a little downtown bookstore on my lunch hour.  I was looking for a Christmas gift, and found a great cookbook in the Fountain Bookstore.  It was $35, and I knew it might be a little less on-line, but it was right there in front of me, and I like supporting local businesses.  The lady even gift wrapped it for me.  I am a terrible wrapper.  Sometimes for Team in Training, we do fundraisers where we wrap purchases at stores.  I joke that the stores donate to my fundraising with the agreement that I stay away from them.

A few days later, I decided to get the same book as a gift for someone else, and found that it was $22, plus shipping, on Amazon.  On a whim, I went back to the bookstore the next day and asked if they could cut a deal, take a few bucks off.  The lady seemed a little frustrated.  She told me that she simply could not, that she was barely making it (she was the owner).  I told her that the same book was $13 less on Amazon.  She said "I hear that every day.  You have to decide what to do."  She told me how frustrating it is when people come in, browse the books to see what they like, and then order it on line.  After thinking for a few minutes, I bought the book, plus another book for myself about odd animal friendships.

It's not that I want to hand someone $13 more of my hard earned money.  But I think it is sad to contemplate a world without little local bookstores, and that is very possible.  First it was the big bookstores that were putting them out of business, then it was the big on-line eBusiness organizations that started putting the big bookstores, like Borders, out of business.  It's clear that without customers, places like the Fountain Bookstore are endangered.  And it is clear that customers will have to pay more for merchandise at small bookstores, which just don't have the volume to compete on price.

So, given the choice, this time I choose to spend more for the exact same product, but keep some money in the local economy.  What would you have done?

Hiking in My Mind

Don't you just love topographic maps?  I am planning a trip later this fall, and one of the first steps is to study the map of the potential area.  In this case, I have a very detailed map of where I am likely going - subject to change based on a last minute weather forecast, since this particular area can have short periods of severe weather even as early as September.

But I've had fun so far imagining this particular trip - if and when it happens - by looking at the topo map.  It is always exciting to study the topography of places one has not been ever or in a very long time, and try to imagine from the map what the hike would be like.  Wow - that part of the trail looks like a really steep downhill!  I can imagine how my knees will feel.  What about there - is that a cliff?  Better avoid that!  Look at that remote stream or pond.  Might that be a good spot to view wildlife?  But if I can get there, I'd better avoid the shortest looking route, as it is likely to be boggy.  I wonder how long it would take to bushwhack it?  And what about that summit with no trail leading to it?  Would that be worth a bushwhack?  Naw, it looks too steep through there, and there are likely to be dead falls and big rocks.  Hey - that should be a great spot for lunch with great views!  I wonder if I can make it there on day 3 for a lunch spot?  How long is this total hike going to be, anyway?  30 miles, maybe?  Maybe a little more?  I bet if I do that detour for a mile or so, leaving the main trail and doubling back on that other trail, that I will have some great views, if I interpret the map correctly.  And how about that waterfall?  I wonder what that is like?

Hiking in my mind, using a good topo map, is a lot of fun.  It is like imaging the trip prior to doing, and anticipating the fun I hope to have while there - without the aches and pains, bug bites, and chance of cold or wet weather.  It is well worth the price of the map!

The Forest Gnome is Semi-Retiring

Maybe a dozen or so years ago, my good friend Tom from Weld, Maine gave me a gift that he had made for me.  Out of a piece of beaver wood, he had made me a hiking staff, and in a recessed knot in the wood, he had carved the face of a gnome.  Over many, many hikes, that staff with the little forest gnome has accompanied me to many places.  And now, I am letting the gnome take a little rest, letting it semi-retire.  Time and many miles have battered my hiking staff.  So while I will still take it on a hike now and then, for the most part, I will keep it as a memento and a keepsake of these good times hiking.

Over recent years, as I have hiked in national parks, I've tried to buy a medallion to remember the park by.  For the most part, my Maine-made hiking staff has not accompanied me to these parks, because I have only driven to relatively close places.  I don't think I could take my rugged and heavy hiking staff on an airplane, at least not without getting in trouble with the TSA.  But I still nail the little medallions to the hiking staff.  Someday, I hope to give my hiking staff to my granddaughter.

Now, while my little forest gnome is partially retiring, nothing is permanent.  Just as I came back from "retiring" from Team in Training, and just as Brett Favre unretired multiple times from football, I suspect that the gnome will roam again with me along a few delightful trails each year.  In the meantime, here are some photos of the medallions on my hiking staff.

Here are the gnome and I, on top of Mount Washington, the tallest mountain in the Northeast, in July 2007.  It was 5 years after surviving cancer.

 More than any place else, the gnome on my hiking stick has been with me to Shenandoah National Park.

 Glacier National Park was one of the coolest places I've even been.  And yes, I did see mountain goats there!

I visited Saguaro National Park in January 2008, the day after the Arizona Marathon - which could be my last full marathon ever (or not).  And in 2010, I hiked in our largest national park, Wrangell - St. Elias: the size of Vermont and New Hampshire put together.  The tough hike up to Bonanza Mine climbed 3,800 feet in the fog in about 4.5 miles.

 Old Rag Mountain in Shenandoah National Park is special enough to earn its own medallion.

 In 2010, I ran my last Team in Training event to date, the Seattle Half-Marathon.  After that, I spent three days hiking on tired legs in Mount Rainier National Park.

 Yellowstone National Park in 2005 was a don't miss spot, and I will never forget it.

 And the hikes and wildlife in Grand Teton National Park were spectacular.

 I've been on Mount Washington twice: once as a kid in 1967, and then 40 years later as a cancer survivor.  Where did those 40 years go?

 Denali National Park is one wild place.  I barely scratched the surface of hiking there.  Here is an account of one such hike.

On Walking

Obviously, I love to hike, but I also get a lot of pleasure from just plain walking. Running – well, that seems to be a love – hate relationship, or maybe a like – dislike relationship is more accurate. With my knee pain ever since this past winter, I am not running right now. But I am walking.  Not as fast as I used to before I was running and when I could turn out 13.5 minute miles for 26.2 miles.  But still, at a decent clip.

Getting up early and walking is difficult on my new work schedule with longer work days. I do it when I can, even if it is just for a short walk. And going for a walk at lunch is something I generally don’t do this time of year in the hot Virginia days. Why, I’d return to work a sodden mess! But even at work, I find ways to walk a bit. I take the stairs instead of the elevator. When you work on the seventh floor, and routinely have meetings on the 14th and 15th floors, it adds up. I’ll walk over to see someone rather than calling or instant messaging. And at home, unless I have a lot to buy, I will walk the half mile each way to the grocery store.

I turned 61 just over a month ago. A few days later, we went to Pittsburgh and I also replaced the battery on my trusty pedometer. I decided that it would be kind of cool to see how many steps I take before my next birthday, so I am tracking that. So far, just shy of the first month of counting, I am a little bit below 400,000 steps. With cooler weather approaching, I will hope to be walking at lunch again – my short 30 minute lunch break – but also maybe after work a bit. And hopefully, I will get out for some more hiking. I still have six more new places in 2012 to reach my goal.