VIRGINIA OR COSTA RICA!
[Cue the upbeat game show music]
(the half-gallon challenge at the halfway mark -donezo)
(John Brown's fort in Harper's Ferry)
[Cue the bright lights and title card]
VIRGINIA OR COSTA RICA!
[Cue me in a suit and blinding TV host veneers]
Now for the game you've all been waiting for!
The rules are simple. I have posted 6 photos below, and you have to guess if it's the Commonwealth of Virginia, or Latin American paradise, Costa Rica.
Your prize for a discerning eye? I will post your name and a sincere personal compliment in the next blog entry.
Submit your answers via text or by responding to this email. Here is an example of an acceptable response format
1. Virginia
2. Costa Rica
3. ---- you get the idea.
Here's your hint: It's hard
Good luck, contestants!
[Cue the music again]
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Dr Derne was my favorite sociology professor at Geneseo. He taught theory and looked the part. He wore all black and rocked a thin scarf year round. If the dry erase marker he grabbed didn't write well on the board, he chucked it towards the trash can and moved on. Dr Derne didn't love how sociology had earned the nickname "the science of suffering," and was more interested in mysticism, happiness, and going to India. I even overheard some departmental gossip about the frequency of his trips. His friends called him Stevie D. I thought that was cool as hell.
One time he said the best theorists get Bs on papers because those students presented ambitious ideas, even if they weren't the most water tight. That stuck with me more than the readings about state controlled violence. Maybe because I was a B student, although I won't claim I was theorizing above my weight class.
What's the reward for being overly ambitious? In Derne's class, it was a B. I don't have any more papers to write. So what do you do? Give yourself a chance to score a big fat F. My longest backpacking trip before getting on the AT was two whole nights. My longest solo trip? One. Does that come as a surprise? I feel so much more qualified now. That shouldn't come as a surprise.
Once you do something you are a person who has done that thing. The barrier to entry for many exclusive clubs is action. If you think or feel a certain way about people who have done something, then you do that thing, you become one of those people you once had thoughts and feelings about. Those things apply to you now.
Embrace letting your actions define you, don't live in fear of failure or embarrassment. I'm learning to try it, especially when I'm not qualified. Ron Swanson said it best even though it was a slam on Leslie, I hope you get the gist.
"Everything I do is the attitude of an award winner, because I've won an award."
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A slimy plank. A sinister root. An awkwardly settled rock that shifts with pressure. You can be the baddest hiker out here and it could all be over in an instant.
There's been a recent rash of non-injury departures. Unexpected. I thought by this stage of The Vacation, everyone who makes it this far is physically, mentally, and emotionally capable of completing the trail. Not true. Things happen. You get more stuff to manage. You get good at juggling two balls, then three balls, and then the trail tosses you a fourth and then a fifth then a bowling ball then a chainsaw then you're in Maine.
I need to trust my inner friend. The voice in my head that gives the high quality and high EQ advice I reserve for others. Plantar fascitis is a poltergeist of an injury. It comes and goes throughout your house, phasing through walls. The appearances are frightening and the vanishing acts are mysterious and relieving. Like a spooky roomba. It started in my right foot, and now it's in my left. Is it transmissible by contact like poison ivy? Because I have that too. I'm not listening to my inner Ricky Bobby. He's telling me to go fast. At least he's reliable. Predictable is manageable.
"Practice" is an excellent verb to describe the pursuit of frequent meditation or gratitude. Sometimes it's soccer or tennis practice, sometimes it's wrestling practice. It's been wrestling practice for the last week. You get bruised up and sore as hell at the beginning of the season before your body gets used to it. You get your ass kicked for a while and you show up the next day for more. It's up to you how you show up.
Opportunities to practice gratitude come in funny packages. I got bitten over 60 times by bat bugs. They make my old bug bites feel like puppy kisses. My face swelled up and people looked at me like I had a cuss word sharpied on my forehead. I slept in a shelter shirtless and they got my ass (figuratively). They only got my back, shoulders, face, and arms. I already told you in blog entry 2 that my reactions to bug bites are impressive.
I'm grateful for the clear patches of skin I do have, and for my body's ability to heal while I keep making demands. My thumb wound is much better. I can properly cherish moments of rest and relief. These bites are so itchy that I don't even feel the collage of poison ivy, scrapes, and other bites on my legs. I'm getting half off on the suffering, baby! That's a steal!
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Progress: 1,150 miles. Holy cow that's a lot of miles. I finally know what The Proclaimers meant when they walked 500 miles twice. It's no joke. I celebrated at the 1,000 mile sign with a beer. Stretching changes with my body's needs. Still a nut about it. I added a stretch for my left ankle, because it's less mobile, and bam, plantar in that foot. So I stopped doing that one. It's like when you buy your pet a new toy and it turns it nose up at it. I did this for you! Why.
Here are a few points of reflection after completing over half of this trail. More to come in future posts if I feel like it.
- Get up and moving earlier. More time for side quests and pushing miles. My two favorite activities.
- Make plans but be flexible with destinations
- Take more pictures with people
- Keep stretching all the time, but don't fear adaptation, consistency is key
- Keep snacking at least 4 times a day
- Increase meditation practice, frequency and duration
Updates on Gear: Will need new shoes soon. I got a water bottle holder for my pack so now I can hydrate without taking it off. Game changer for sweltering summer months. Swapping out my 15 degree sleeping bag for something lighter.
Reader request: Cam from San Francisco asks, "any dangerous animal encounters?"
Almost. A couple weeks ago Sandman and I were hiking at about 9:30 p.m. trying to make it to a shelter a few miles away. I swear to god I said "this is the part of the horror movie where I pretend to see a bear to scare you, then we actually see a bear."
Five minutes later, we turned a corner to see three pairs of eyes reflecting the light of our head lamps, about 30 yards ahead. The eyes were about hip-height and we immediately stopped in our tracks. Come on.
We started clanging our walking sticks together and yelling the obligatory "Hey bear, hey bear!" The blobs of darkness behind the eyes didn't care and didn't move. After a couple minutes, the "hey bears" turned into "get out of here, go home, bears!" "fuck off bears!" and my personal favorite "geeeet onnn bears!" in my best Virginian drawl. All we could do is yell, laugh, and hope the blobs suddenly learned English.
The beasts were between us and the shelter. At what point to you cede the trail to the real animals and camp in the parking lot a quarter mile back? The blobs weren't really moving like bears, so we got closer and Sandman took a zoomed in picture with his phone. Feral pigs. Three sows to be specific. They pushed on and so did we. Next time I'll manifest some trail magic or a cool breeze.