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just testing out our capability to post blog updates via our handheld that's coming on the trail with us.

Doing the Limbo

One week from our official start date and we're official restless. It became obvious last night after watching a movie. After the credits rolled on "Streetcar Named Desire" at 9 pm (STELLAAAAAA!!!!), we wondered what to do next. Watch TV? The cable is off, 'cause I didn't pay the last bill (will settle up later). Read? Most of our magazine subscriptions have lapsed, most of the good books are in storage, with much of the rest in our food boxes. Pack? Too late for that. Making matters worse, we're also in real estate limbo. The potential buyer had a home inspection Saturday (it was on my calendar for Friday, so I surprised the team in my bathrobe). We're supposed to take care of a numer of relatively minor things before we go, and contact our condo associaton about one not-so-minor item (a wall that the inspector says is letting in some moisture; we've never detected any on our 3 years here, but whatever) that is not in our jurisdiction as it is a "common element". We need to meet with the realtor to write a response, but obviously not on a Sunday afternoon/evening, and possibly not even on Memorial Day. We cou;d pack the rest of our stuff up, but it seemed too late for that. Besides, the June 15 closing date depends on our response to the response of the inspection team (and their response to our response to their reponse). So I looked at The Complete Walker for the 165th time, to bone up on Colin and Chip;s techniques for water crossings). Then some Boy Scout "merit badge pamphlets" on outdoor skills I'd ordered for Polina. Then the AT Trail Companion. All of it was ground we've been over and over and over again. We're ready to go. We just need the real estate gods to smile upon us and grant us official permission. Oh yeah, and we should probably pack the rst of the house up, too.

Boxing daze

Less than two weeks from our start date and we've completed our last major logistical challenge--buying, preparing and packaging food for three months. Little Pony handled most of this one--she figured out a repertoire of meals neither of us would easily tire of, then ordered some bulk dry foods, purchased a dehydrator, and ran it day and night. Then we travelled to Wisconsin (the day after I returned from my last London Nature trip). My sister (The World's Best Bargain Shopper) drove us to a bulk food store in Appleton (props to the good folks at The Granary) where we purchased a ton of stuff, then we hit a super supermarket and filled two carts; the total haul came in well below our budget. When we returned to Smaglik Manor, the farm house where I grew up, two old friends helped us sort, mix and package breakfasts and snacks. It was appropriate that one helper was a frequent hiking companion of mine. For our first major backcountry trip--Bryce Canyon's Below the Rim trail--we kept food simple: oatmeal for breakfast, trail mix and jerky for lunch and various permutations of soup and rice for dinner. After three days, Mark said that menu "got old". So when we hiked the Grand Tetons a few years later, he took over meal planning and opted for dehydrated pre-made meals from an outdoor store. He and another guy had the spaghetti the first night and I tried the chili. Mark talked about how much better this stuff was than the soup-and-rice standby. But that was before the gastro-intestinal revenge. After dinner and some whiskey, I retired to my tent and Mark and Will to theirs. It started raining and I started to hear some rumbling. I thought it was thunder or other storm-related audio effect, but the audio effects turned out to be a mighty wind of another kind. They were trapped in the tent, due to the pounding, and eventually resorted to lighting matches to ameloriate the odor. Fortunately they succeeded in not lighting the tent on fire. I was fine--that night. I tried the spaghetti the following evening and thought it tasted even better than the chili. Then my own rumblings commenced. Never mind my own GI thunder and lightning; I flet like someone had removed my colon, used it as a punching bag, then replaced it. After that, Nature called--and kept calling, for the next 12 hours. I nearly wore out the latrine trowel, never mind my bruised and battered intestines. Even though buying, mixing, sorting and packing 90 or so days of food took up the bulk of our Wisconsin visit, I'm pleased with the results--a variety of tasty food that won't be as mundane as my orignal bachelor backpacker diet, or as colon-pounding as the pricey, pre-packaged stuff.

Re: Drop Boxes

A few posts back, dshep inquired about the mecahnics of being a trail angel and getting packages or letters to us on the trail.

In an earlier post, Billy Goat shared the PO Boxes and approximate dates of our arrival to those locations. If you are interested in sending us a letter or a package on the trail, please address as follows:

Pine Grove, Pennsylvania
PO Box 17936
Postmaster: Please hold for AT Thru-Hikers Paul Smaglik & Polina Makievsky

*** To be on the extra safe side, give us a call/leave a message on our cell phone (202-487-4977) and let us know where you sent the letter/package so that we're sure to look for it.

To ensure that we receive your letter/package, we recommend sending it so that it arrives no later than 1 week prior to our estimated arrival.

Dshep also asked about the kinds of treats that trail angels might send. Well - we're not very discimrinating in this department and will be quite overjoyed for any treats or well wishes from friends. Nevertheless, here are some suggestions:

* Edible treats (good chocolate is always a winner)
* Clipped magazine / newspaper article that you particularly enjoyed or thought we might enjoy
* Postcard / letter with greetings from you
* Clipped crossword puzzles from the paper (incompleted, please)
* Cheap H&M dazzling earrings so that Little Pony can remain fashionable on the trail (thanks Chris for that peice of wisdom)
* Sample size versions of body care products (creams, bubble baths, face washes, etc...cause we'll need it the one day we stop in a hotel)

And of course, we're open to surprises!

Trail is starting to call...

I'm sitting at my desk at my last day at work. It's 8:30 PM and I'm long overdue to have walked out the door, but I suffer from an afflication called separation anxiety. Nonetheless, this week, the reality that this is really going to happen is sinking in. Last day on the job, last pay check AND we've found a buyer for our condo, which means the final (and key) peice has fallen into place. Once we complete the condo closing in a few weeks, we'll be more unencumbered than we've been in a very long time...it's a thrilling feeling -- we recommend it!

The trail is really starting to beckon!

Lessons learned,to be re-applied

Every walk presents reveals different challenges and teaches different lessons. Here’s a few I’ve gathered over the past ten years of backpacking:

Bryce Canyon: Avoid big first days. This was my first trek out West, after a few decades of smaller, flatter walks in the Midwest. 10 miles sounded reasonable, but after a late start, thousands of feet down over tricky footing, with perilous drops, then 4 or so climbs and descents up and down 500-1000-foot buttes, I reconsidered—especially when we got pounded by a hail storm in a box canyon. So, in the AT, we’re gonna start earlier in the day, and the first week keep average less than 10 miles.

Grand Tetons: Climb slowly and steadily. It took us several days to figure this out. The first day our party tried to charge up switchbacks, regain our wind, then resume. But all the breaks meant for slower progress. By the third day, we’d found that slow steady baby steps when the switchbacks seem endless get you to the top a lot steadier than big ones—especially as you start to feel the affects of higher altitude. On our last big climb to the summit, a guy raced past us, hyperventilating. Two hours into the climb, we baby-stepped past him. The AT doesn’t have any 3-5000-feet climbs, but we’ll remember to slow down and shorten our stride as soon as we hit the first switchback.

Glacier National. After summiting and resting, we raced down the sunny side of the face to set up camp near an inviting lake. I was clumsy setting up the tent, and realized that my drunken-like fumbling was an early warning sign of heat stroke. I’d drank some water up top, but not nearly enough and had forgotten to keep sipping in the race to our campsite. On the AT, we’ll always keep a reserve of water and remind each other to drink steadily.
Yosemite: I’d never encountered a bear up close and personal in the backcountry, but at every campsite we saw at least one, usually near dusk, chopping on berries. This is a great reminder to be super-cautious about food storage and to make enough noise on the trail to avoid surprising a mother and her cubs.

Grand Canyon: Until this trip, I’d done always done one big walking session. But after a long, hot first day, not dissimilar to my Bryce start (although we WERE on the trail by 7am-ish), we decided to get up earlier, take a long lunch break and maybe a nap, then resume walking when the heat breaks. This worked great on the last day, even though it meant waking at 3 am, fueling up with a hearty breakfast, breaking camp and and hitting the trail by 4:15 am. We raced the sun and beat (most of) the heat in going 10 miles from river to rim, ascending nearly a vertical mile. We savored our shade and water breaks in shelters on the final push—and definitely earned our ice cream cones up top. On the AT, this means we can do two sessions of 5-9 miles a day and have time to enjoy our progress in the middle. Also, eating the main meal at midday means less food weight to carry on the second leg.

The biggest lesson of all? The mountain always wins. If you respect it and the trail, you’ll be OK. But taking anything for granted can mean discomfort at best, and death at worst.

Next?

Perhaps the most frequent question we’ve fielded since we announced our trail intention (After “Are you crazy?” and “How will you shower?”) is “What will you do when you finish?” While we appreciate the concerns about our future, one of the reasons we’re walking is to get off the conveyer belt of daily expectations. In my position as Naturejobs editor (www.naturejobs.com), I have deadlines almost every day; I’m always assigning, writing, editing something for the weekly magazine. As soon as one issue goes to press, there’s the next and the next to consider. Polina’s constantly writing grants, project reports, conducting site visits. We’re both burned out by thinking about what’s next. One of the best aspects of backpacing is the way it forces you to live in the present and strips away all non-essential tasks. There’s camp to make and break, meals to cook, provisions to procure and the proverbial miles to go before you sleep. In the midst of all that minimalism, one becomes hyper aware of one’s surroundings; it’s the difference between being in nature and looking at it. So rather than worry about what’s Next, we hope the trail will teach us better to relish the Now—long after we stop walking.

Earning your wings

Ever wanted to be an angel? “Trail Angels” divine actions are legendary along the AT. Thru hikers have traditionally benefited from the grace of strangers, friends, family—intervening with company, snail mail, care packages, icy refreshing beverages. No obligations (we’re too proud to beg—except maybe when the food is running low and there’s 20 miles to the next supply point!), but anyone wanting to shower us (or just offer use of your shower, if you live anywhere nearby) with “trail magic” can do so at the following points, at approximately these times:

Leg 1: Gardner’s, PA; P.O. Box 17324 (June 9)
Leg 2: Pine Grove, PA; P.O. Box 17936 (June 16)
Leg 3:Delaware Water Gap; P.A., P.O. Box 18327 (June 23)
Leg 4: Unionville, NY, P.O. 10988 (around June 30/July 1; we’ll also be taking the train into NYC somewhere around this time).
Leg 5 Wingdale, NY, PO 12594 (NY/Connecticut state line; around July 6)
Leg 6: Tyringham, MA; P.O. 01264 (July 13)
Leg 7: North Adams, MA; P.O. 01247 (July 20)
Leg 8 Killington, VT; P.O. 05751 (July 27
Leg 9: Glencliff, NH; P.O. 03238 (August 1)
Leg 10: Gorham, NH, P.O. 03581(August 6)
Leg 11: Rangely, ME, P.O. 04970 August 13
Leg 12: (Monson ME, P.O 04464 (August 19)


Exact scheduling is tough; there’s no way to better than guess-timate how fast and far we’ll walk each leg, due to weather, disposition, real estate realities, etc.). However, we’re aiming for 100 miles per week—maybe a little faster in the flatter, more urban areas, once the pony and goat get our mountain legs; perhaps a little slower in the NE bit. We’ll try to let everyone know where we are (that’s a safety issue, too) and may rig up a GPS beacon so you can follow our progress in real time. Anyway, we WILL hit these points because we have to; they’re where my mom (guardian angel by default!) is mailing out provisions to!