(Five years ago on the AT, give or take a few months...) 6.7.04

(So, apparently, in spite of the apprehension I felt the day prior concerning the amount of miles we were to do melted away at the thought of having a day of complete rest in the nearby town of Troutdale. As I mention below, Gracie and I pushed on once reaching our scheduled stop for the day in order that we would reach town a day ahead of schedule.

Once we reached the paved road which led to Troutdale, we still had about five miles to walk. Perhaps it was less, perhaps more, but the point is that we didn't feel like walking it. We attempted hitchhiking on this moderately busy road and were, for the most part, unsuccessful. We even had these young punks do the I'll-pull-over-but-speed-away-once-you-reach-the-truck thing. We eventually gave up and began walking. We walked on the hard pavement on already tired feet for about twenty minutes. A white Ford Explorer roared past with a distinctive license plate. Not long after that a truck of latino workers picked us up and shortly took us to the hostel we were going to use for the next two evenings.

This hostel, run by a church in town, had no one around. The small church was locked and the sun was setting. Gracie was doubting his research on the matter. Across the street there was a nice, kept home. And a white Ford Explorer, the very same that had passed us, with a cooling engine popping and slightly hissing in the driveway. We walked over to inquire about the church's hostel and were met by a man who let us know that yes, the church there did have a free shelter for hikers but we'd have to wait around for someone else to show up, that he didn't have anything to do with it.

Anyway, by the time we crossed the street again, someone pulled up in the church's driveway. Two of the hikers we'd met the day prior, the cockney fellow and someone who went by the trail name 'Blue Jay LeFay', were being let out by the church's young pastor and his wife, who had just treated the hikers to a home grilled steak dinner. You see, this pastor saw the nearby AT as a source of ministry to hikers and began the hostel ministry in order to show Christ's love to those passing through. During the conversation he also pointed out that the fellow across the road was one of the head deacons. This annoyed me as it was obvious that we had needed a ride to town but this head deacon had simply flown past.

We were set up in the small hostel, a new two room building in a corner of the church's lot, suitable for about a dozen men to use (the women were housed in the old sanctuary, adjacent to their newly constructed church). We were shown the shower and laundry facilities in the rear of the newer sanctuary and were shown were we could use a complimentary phone.

Gracie and I stayed up late, having laundry and phone calls to make. The showers were a blessing, to be sure, being the first I'd had since I'd begun the trail a few days prior. I had horrible rashes were the pack and its belt had been chafing me.

The following day, during which I wrote the entry below, gave us a much needed rest. We ate at a local cafe twice that day. I believe that's also the day that Ronald Reagan died. We spent the afternoon relaxing indoors in the old sanctuary (we had been invited to spend the afternoon in the more comfortable female quarters by its only inhabitant, 'Inchworm'. She took that trail name because she would only do about ten miles a day, still respectable to someone who had just started, like me, but far shy of experienced hiker's standards.)

Yesterday... wait.

Today I feel- rested.

Yesterday Graceful and I did our scheduled 11.4 mile day, our biggest yet. Initially I was intimidated by it, and continued to be so until we climbed to the top of our last peak- Then I began thinking about Troutdale and the telephone there. I mentioned to Graceful the idea of increasing our mileage for the day by about another seven miles. He mulled it over and also liked the idea of having a "zero" day (no miles walked) so we kept going.

So, there I was, flip-flopping from being afraid of eleven miles to being eager to do nearly twenty just because of the prospect of talking to you.

We got off the trail at one point, inadvertently, and wound up adding about a mile to our walk and had to spend a lot of time, a couple of miles, at least, walking along a gravel road with paralleled the AT but down in a valley... that gave me three new blisters which I am hoping will heal enough for me to tackle the 14+ day planned for tomorrow.

I still wonder what I'm doing out here and truly hope this experience will draw me closer to a closer relationship with God.

I had hoped that getting away from pretty much everything would clear my mind so that I could focus on God. The fact of the matter is, though, that my mind is still cluttered, just with other things.

I hope this changes-

I really would like some vision, some purpose, some direction.

I feel lost.

I have for a long time.

I don't know if this will ever change.

Do we create our own paths?

Have I been set apart?

Is this part of a plan?

Why do I constantly fight the feeling of isolation?

What is God teaching me through this?

I just want so much to be on the path the Sovereign Lord has for me and I want to KNOW I'm on it.

He told Jeremiah that he had plans for him- plans to give him a Hope and a Future. I hope that applies to all of us.

One thing I had asked is that things bubble up on this walk, things I need to deal with. Every... single... day... I have thought of India. This is not a pleasant experience.

(Five years ago on the AT, give or take a handful of months...) 6.6.04 (morning)

(I do distinctly remember the morning about which I wrote below. I'd chosen not to stay in the shelter, preferring the privacy and relative warmth of my tent- at least my tent would keep out the breezes. I found an isolated meadow near the shelter and set up camp. The next morning, I was surrounded by a white haze. I could see light coming from the direction of the valley below and soon the sun began burning away the fog. I sat there in the tall grass, soon drenched in the new morn's golden sunlight, and sang praises to my God. What a wonderful way to start a day.

I wrote this prior to eating breakfast, apparently, and probably did so due to the joy I was experiencing from the recent worship.)

Woke on mountaintop in a cloud, waiting for the sun to break through. Sang a hymn or two and read three Psalms aloud (25-27).

"Be strong and take heart. Wait for the Lord." -Ps. 27

Gaffer's tape seems to work well on mega-blister I have going on right ankle. Walked around today (this morning, rather) breaking camp and could not feel a thing with bandage/tape combo. Going to find Graceful, who is sleeping in shelter. I stayed in tent last night.

I sleep so much better out here!

"Fair are the meadows, fairer stil the woodlands
Robed in the blooming garb of Spring
Jesus is fairer, Jesus is purer,
Who makes the woeful heart to sing." -lyrics, 'Fairest Lord Jesus'

(Five years ago on the AT, give or take a handful of months...) 6.05.04

(Alright, so over the summer I thought I'd try to keep up and post these five years, almost to the day, since I'd written them, but a cross country trip and my usual forgetfulness got in the way. So, here we go again...
In this entry I seem to be in much better spirits than the day before (remember, I've not read these since I wrote them back in '04. Nothing earth shattering in this one and little insight into what was making me tick out there. Just filler, really...).

Today I am feeling... content.

"Troubles last but for a night- but joy comes in the morning" - Somewhere in Proverbs, although it may say, "Grief" instead.

Anyway, I woke in good spirits albeit late. But then, so did Dick (Ol' Graceful). The day began muggy and Graceful was convinced it would rain again. In better spirits as I was, and due to the fact there was nothing I could do about it, I decided to take it as it came.

Today was a short day. We saw beautiful rock formations, mountaintops covered with rhododendrons and herds of wild ponies. (Just for you, Steve, I approached one to touch it. As it turns out this is no major deal since they are accustomed to getting treats from hikers- Graceful took his camera out of the ziplock and at the sound of crinkling plastic was rushed by two of them who began nibbling at his hands.

Today was frustrating, too, because I had a chance to walk down a couple of miles to the state park headquarters where I could have called you guys and so Graceful could get coffee. But, we couldn't find the trailhead from the shelter until it was too late. I was saddened because I wanted to talk to you so very much.

I seem to be acclimating to the trail- I walk better with a pack than without. My only problems are with the massive blisters I have on my ankles- I barely feel them with my boots on but they are VERY ugly and hurt a great deal when the boots are off. I am told by through-hikers that they are every hiker's bane for the first couple of weeks.

Tonight I sat at the shelter and listened to the conversations of these through-hikers, all over 40. One was from England with a wonderful Cockney accent and a devilish sense of humor. I didn't feel like part of the group, nor should I have, so I just listened, as did Graceful.

I am apprehensive about how much distance we must cover tomorrow (11.4 miles) and uncertain how easily it will be done... but oh, well, I guess I have to do it.

Steve, please tell your mother and father that I cherish the compass they gave me in February. I have not needed to use it yet but I played with it today. It means a lot to me that they consider me part of their family and that your mother showers me with love when I see her.

It's strange that I miss my mother, too, although it's been oly a couple of weeks since I've seen her. I look forward to calling her as soon as I can.

Do I still feel lonely? Yes, but not as intently as I did Tuesday or Wednesday.

I love you guys more than I think I'll ever be able to show you.

P.S., If you see Caroline, please tell her that I think of her daily as I sort out my food for the day. She was an INCREDIBLE help that last evening in both organization and morale. -tell her I miss her, too.

Also: It's still DAMN COLD up here... it's friggin' JUNE!!! I was shivering again before sundown, and the sun was out this time (no rain today) P.G.!!! I'm going to break down and purchase a bag, even if it's a mummy. This blanket does ok, but I have to have it just right since I foolishly cut a foot and a half off of it trying to save weight- which probably didn't make a difference since by pack is still too heavy... but I manage with it. I didn't bring my Columbia bag because it is a winter bag, not a summer. I would have cooked in it, I thought. I also didn't bring one of the other two I'd been given by my mother years ago, even though they would have been perfect, because I had already taken them to storage. "Aw", I thought, "It's summer- I won't need a bag. A blanket will do." EVEN THE GUYS FROM NEW ENGLAND ARE COMPLAINING ABOUT THE COLD!

Still no trail name.