The dog ate your what?!?

Hey, whats up everybody. I have to make this fast because we have a ride out of town in an hour. This section of trail has been incredible. Stormy and wet for a portion — how long, I can’t really say as I forget the bad quickly (a must when adventuring in the wild)  —  but the views have been stunning. I’ll post the photos and writeup in a few days when we get to Front Royal.

Yesterday was one of the most draining days I’ve had on trail (off trail actually). It started out well, really well in fact. We woke at 4:30am and climbed to the top of Hawksbill Mountain to watch the sunrise. It was beautiful of course, but heavy cloud cover from the previous days storms obscured most of the color.

We then hiked 14miles as fast as we could to make it into Luray before the Post Office closed at 4:30pm. The rush was exciting and made me feel like a thru-hiker again. Actually going somewhere and with purpose! It was awesome, but then the world dropped out from under me.

We made it into town with time to spare only to find my package had not arrived. I had it forwarded from Harpers Ferry and someone did not cross out the old barcode. Tracking indicates it left Harpers Ferry only to return days later. Its out there in the world somewhere right now. Hopefully, it will arrive Monday where it will be forwarded, again, to Harpers Ferry.

We walked from the post office to a little hostel. We arrived – tired, starving, and stinking – to find the owner not at home. A guest let us in where we sat talking for an hour before the owner arrived. She said she would drive us to food after she made a shuttle run.

We showered leaving our bags on the bag porch. We planned to camp (we’re poor), but were waiting for a storm to pass to set up our tent. I called my brother. Firecracker went to get something out of her bag.

“Kodak, get your bag off the porch, NOW.”

“I’ll call you back in a minute bro.”

Firecracker comes walking through the house carrying her bag. Her tent is out of the stuff sack and in her hand. I follow suit bringing my stuff to the front porch.

“What happened?”

“The dog ate my tent.”

Earlier, the dog was acting up so the owner put it out on the back porch. It chewed on my hat and, yeah, it shredded her home. The dog was a pain. Soaking wet from the rain, it jumped on us every time we went outside. Not something I wanted to deal with in my condition but, whatever. I like dogs; even bad ones.

The owner of the hostel dealt with the situation as best she could. We were assured immediately that we would be compensated and she let us stay for free (inside in a real bed). Then, this morning, the two worked it out with the owner handing Firecracker cash for the online price of the tent.

As for how to continue, my mom is sending my old tent to Front Royal where we’ll pick it up (hopefully) on Tuesday. We’ll shelter hop and cram in my tiny tent until we get there.

Was this my worst day yet? Probably not, but being tired, STARVING, and so chaffed that even sitting hurt is enough to make even the smallest problem worth going home over. Our group early in the hike adopted HALT as a motto for a reason. Halt and examine your situation: are you Hungry, Anxious or Angry, Lonely, or Tired. If you understand the reason behind overwhelming emotions, they are much easier to handle. It’s incredible how many problems can be solved with food or sleep alone.

Moral of the story? Be vary careful around dogs —— The chair just collapsed on me!!!! It’s time to go. Anyway, don’t give up without careful consideration of your current circumstances. Eat. Chug water. Talk to friends. Call friends and family back home (have trusted people back home that you can rely on to urge you to continue hiking. DO NOT call someone that will welcome you home too quickly).  Sleep. So many problems disappear with food, rest, and sleep. Don’t make quitting a spontaneous decision you’ll later regret.

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Long Awaited Update

It has been quite some time since my last update. The last two weeks of my life have been spent in the Sierra Tarahumara mountains and the Barrancas Del Cobre. The region is remote and rugged. Modern amenities are few and far between; internet access, yea right.

The dirt track I followed out of Alamos is only accessible via four-wheel drive or via bicycle powered by a determined masochistic touring cyclist. The route to Alamos from Mazatlan is a toll road sporting a blissfully wide shoulder. The miles of tarmac passed quickly as I rushed to find the route less travelled.

I am currently in Creel and very short on time. I’ve been out of civilization for quite a while. As a result, my time here has consisted of chores long neglected and recuperating in the comfort of a dormitory complete with hot showers.

This post will provide a tiny glimpse into the blissful chaos of the last three or so weeks of this epic adventure. I am still trying to absorb all that has happened. The mountains here, and more so the people, have made this portion of my journey one I doubt will be topped. In the coming weeks, I hope to tell the individual stories in more detail. But, for now, this snapshot must suffice. Continue reading