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View Full Version : Descibe your favorite trail day



A-Train
01-18-2005, 22:36
I'm curious to hear about people's best day on the trail, or the day when the bells rung, everything clicked and you knew backpacking was for you. I'll hold off for awhile and listen to some others.

(thought this might be a way to bring some positive life and energy back into WhiteBlaze!)

neo
01-18-2005, 23:03
to many to count,a bad day on the trail,is better than a good day off the trail
:sun neo

hikerjohnd
01-18-2005, 23:18
I was hiking with two other very dear friends on Cumberland Island (SE Georgia coast for those not familiar with it) and we were hiking in what they deemed the backcountry. After a long days hike (13 miles that started about 11 AM after the ferry ride to the island) we reached our campsite, set up camp, had dinner, and generally enjoyed talking and joking around. We were camped on the West side of the island on a small bluff overlooking the water and I remember enjoying a beautiful sunset. The next morning we woke before dawn and had an early breakfast and watched the sky change from deep violet to a brilliant blue while we just sat there. While we enjoyed our morning drinks and watched the sky, a group of horses walked through our camp and began cropping grass between us and the edge of the bluff. It was truly beautiful to witness.

Footslogger
01-18-2005, 23:30
Had to think about this a bit, since there were SO many !! But I have to say that my favorite day of hiking was the day I climbed Mt. Moosilauke on my 2003 thru-hike. After months and months of GREEN it was just so great to get above tree line and see out so far in all directions. I remember saying to some other hikers that day ..."this was what I came out here to see". There was a part of me that just wanted to pitch a tent and camp at the summit on that day.

Looking forward to reading other hiker comments here.

'Slogger
AT 2003

grrickar
01-18-2005, 23:45
Best day ever was my first ever AT hike. Left Hot Springs just at daybreak, made it to Max Patch in time for the sunset, despite everyone telling us we'd never make it. Once we got close, people started encouraging us. I think we must have jogged part of the trail that day.

Lilred
01-18-2005, 23:56
My best trail day was also my first backpacking trip. I had just left Bly Gap and was hiking up that first big climb. I was socked in by clouds and couldn't see 50 feet in front of me. When I got to the top, there was a short blue-blazed trail that led to an overlook. I knew it must've been gorgeous, so I said a quick prayer to see it. Within 15 minutes, the skies were clear, the sun was shining, and I could see that lake, waaaay in the distance. Was really breathtaking. Ten minutes later I was socked in by clouds again. needless to say, I'm hooked.

saimyoji
01-19-2005, 00:09
Thats easy. Blue Mtn. at Danielsville, PA. Hiked up the trial head to the ridgeline with my 2 yr. old. (She rode on my shoulders most of the way.) Got to the first nice lookout spot where blueberry bushes used to grow all over the trail (they've since been bulldozed). There was a White-tail snacking on the berries, didn't notice us until my daughter said, "Wow, that's a big dog, daddy." The deer just turned, regarded us with curiosity for a moment, snacked some more, and took off over the mountain. My daughter spotted a broad-winged hawk sitting on a branch later on, and we saw lots of hikers that day (my daughter was fascinated with the strange people with huge packs and funny clothes on). She's been into hiking ever since, though she still rides most of the way. ;)

Its great to pass the bug on.

Mouse
01-19-2005, 00:19
This was a fun day: http://trailjournals.com/entry.cfm?id=65532

Let's see, I foiled the fleas, weathered the storm, and escaped the skunk. I went on to add my pennies to Ottie Powell's monument, admire the Punchbowl and get to Buena Vista.

Spirit Walker
01-19-2005, 10:22
Best AT day was the day we crossed the Kennebeck. We woke up listening to a loon on Pierce Pond. We had been camping below the shelter, looking out over the water. Took our time getting started, and walked down to Pierce Pond Camp, where we had their fantastic pancake breakfast. Followed the waterfalls down to the river. We put our packs in the canoe and forded the Kennebec, which was fast and a bit scary, but fun. It was a hot day, so the cool water felt really good. Stopped at the store in Caratunk and ate a quart of ice cream. Headed for the shelter, but it was full, so we kept going to the top of a mountain, where we slept out on the rocks, looking out at the world below. A white owl flew into a tree above us and hooted for a while before it flew off. We watched the sun set and the stars rise. It was a totally happy day.

chris
01-19-2005, 11:03
I really can't answer this, but instead point to any day from the summer of 2003 on the PCT. But, to give something more concrete, one day, in the early evening, beatass tired, I sat with the California sun upon my face in a formerly cleared forest, and had something that some might call revelation, or enlightenment, or direct perception Only for a few minutes, but it was there, and I can remember, if not everything, at least the feelings and impressions. I followed it up with one of my all time favorite campsites under a gnarled tree on an otherwise open ridge, with 360 degree views and a sunset that would have driven Abbey into convulsions. Then there were all the really good days over the last two summers.

rocket04
01-19-2005, 11:44
The day I hiked the Franconia Range in the Whites. I got a perfect day. The most beautiful sights in my entire thru-hike, and some of the most beautiful sights ever for me.

squirrel bait
01-19-2005, 11:47
That would be the day I discovered the little waterfall after crossing the open fields south of Roanoke. I sat under that on a hot July day and covinced myself I could just stay there and live. Oh well............

walkin' wally
01-19-2005, 11:52
My best day so far was going through Mahoosuc notch and up the Mahoosuc Arm for the first time. I got to see what this area was really like.
My second best day was swimming in Pierce pond after a long, hot, buggy day northbound and then watching the sunset from the shelter. nice
:sun

TankHiker
01-19-2005, 12:55
I think my favorite day was when I left Mountain Moma's. It was a long climb out, and a long day. I was tired and hungry. We got to the base of Max Patch at about 3:00, and I really wanted to call it an early day. But my hiking partners urged me on. It was cold and blustery as we hiked up Max Patch. It was invigorating. I imagined that Max Patch was probably beautiful on a sunny day, but it was strangely powerful on this windy day. I wondered how many people ever got to see the beauty of this mountain on a bad weather day. After a brief pause on the summit, we hiked and hiked on with renewed energy. At the end of our 21 mile day (it was my longest at the time), we found an older couple who were out section hiking specifically to be with the thru-hiker crowd. They had a fire going, and asked us to join them. We sat around the fire, and they told us stories of all the thru-hikers they had met throughout their years. It was an awesome day.

TJ aka Teej
01-19-2005, 17:50
I'm curious to hear about people's best day on the trail, or the day when the bells rung, everything clicked and you knew backpacking was for you.
My best day might've been an August night on the Freeze Out trail in Baxter Park watching a meteor shower/northern lights show with my daughter. My 'everything clicked' moment was when I was 8 or 9 on Baxter Peak for 5th or 6th time. I had my hand on the sign and was looking south, wondering if there was a boy like me on a mountaintop in Georgia, looking north. Good thread idea, A-Train!

jmaclennan
02-06-2005, 18:24
The day I met the woman I would later marry. No need to bore you with the details, but it was love at first sight (at least for me). Happened during my thru-hike in 2003 at the Mt. Collins Shelter in the Smokies. Best day of my life, in fact.

mdjeeper
02-07-2005, 02:58
not having thrui-hiked yet, I would say that my best trail day is still ahead of me :) but to this point of only hitting sections of the trail, my best day was memorial day last year when I went up kinsman ridge trail (heading from moosilauke) and kept telling myself.. thats it..there is the top and then instead it would be a twist in the trail and i was still going up!!! then the rain came (i needed a shower anyhow since I had worked up a good sweat).. then the wind kicked up and the clouds moved in and i was thinking that once I did get to the top of Kinsman I wouldnt be able to see a durn thing now <sigh>.. went passed the turn off to kinsman pond shelter and kept on heading up Kinsman when outta the blue the clouds just disspated and down below the sun just glistened off of Kinsman Pond

wren
02-07-2005, 09:18
Ive been sitting here sifting thru all the possible 'best days' of hiking ive had. Its interesting, looking back, that so many of my best days -or most vivid memories- of hiking seemed the toughest or most 'miserable' at the time (due to bad weather, pain, being lost or something..) Im sure ive completely forgotten the details from dozens of 'perfect' days of hiking. Seems like every walk (even if its just a lap around the block) has at least one memorable moment that slowly dissolves over time if its not anchored in place by some other event. I think all of those forgotten moments of hiking bliss just slowly add up to my overall feeling of hiking in general.

At any rate.. One of my favorite moments happened while on the PCT. I was camped alone on the bighorn plateau. The alpenglow, sunset, smells and sounds all came together and it was utterly sublime. ..Then the sun rose and it happened all over again.

Skeemer
02-07-2005, 09:39
I think it was fairly early in the hike when the excitement of actually hiking the AT was still fresh. I had been in Franklin for a zero day following several days of miserable weather. It was the next morning and I had just been dropped off at Winding Stair Gap. I recall writing in my journal something like "I was by myself, the sky was blue, the trail was good and I thought I'd died and gone to heaven!" (Don't get excited...just a metaphor) So there was nothing special about the location. The sun has a big influence my attitude.

Footslogger
02-07-2005, 11:02
The sun has a big influence my attitude.=======================================
Originally from Ohio myself ...I can certainly understant that statement !!

'Slogger
AT 2003

Mags
02-07-2005, 15:51
So many to pick from..hard to say!

Here's three that stand out for me. One is th first time I've hiked a mountain, the second is from my first backpacking trip..the third is from my last week on my AT thru-hike.

*****

This is a story of my first time on the Appalachian Trail. In 1986 I was a Boy Scout in Troop 71 in my home town of Coventry, RI. Never went on a mountain before that day. The love of the outdoors would remain dormant but it came back with vengeance ten years later. ;-) This account was originally published in the March-April 2000 issue of Appalachian Trailway News; the magazine of the Appalachian Trail Conference.

Boy Scout Troop 71 of Coventry, Rhode Island is taking its annual Columbus Day Weekend camping trip to Mt. Lafayette in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. It is October 1986. I’m part of the troop, twelve years old, all excited that I’m going to get to go on a real mountain! And, to make this trip extra special, Dad’s going to be chaperone.

Dad often works overtime on Saturdays; ours is a young family –money and time are scarce. To spend a whole weekend with Dad is a treat.

Friday afternoon, I come home from school and see all the clothes Mom has packed for the trip. Mom’s afraid I’m going to “freeze up North”. The entire bed’s covered with warm clothes: several pairs of jeans, flannel shirts, sweaters, socks, and long underwear. Somehow, it seems like this is too much clothing for a three-day camping trip, but what do I know? I’m just twelve. For this trip I’m going to get to hike with my official Boy Scout rucksack, made of cotton canvas. Dad has even let me have his official U.S. Army pocket knife. With my rucksack, and knife, I’m going to climb that mountain!

Saturday mornings, all the Boy Scouts show up at the community center. I have on my hiking clothes: Sears Toughskins jeans, flannel shirt, long cotton underwear, sweat shirt, work boots. The bus ride to New Hampshire takes more than three hours, longer even than that ride to the big city of Providence. Looking out the windows, I see mountains. “No”, Dad says. “They’re just foothills”. If the foothills are this big, I think, how big are the mountains?

The bus finally pulls up the campground. Several canvas A-Frame tents have been set up, as well as a blue-plastic tarp to cook under. Sunday, we climb the mountain.

The hike begins in the morning. I don’t say anything, but I get tired fast. Dad knows. He takes the rucksack. Why can’t the other dads keep up with mine? Aren’t all Dads the same? We get to the summit. I ask Dad what the white rectangles are for. He says they mark a trail to the other mountains we can see. We take pictures and rest a while. Then troop climbs back down toward the campground.

Most Appalachian Trail hikers recall the first time they stepped on the trail. It’s different for everyone. For some hikers, it doesn’t happen until they take that first step on Springer Mountain. Others recall vacations to the Shenandoahs or maybe a picnic at a state park through which the trail is routed. Mine was as a twelve-year old, excited to be going with his Scout trip on a trip to New Hampshire.

It was not until ten years later that I learned what those white rectangles were. More importantly, I learned what they mean. Those white rectangles mean more than just markings for a long footpath. They mark a trail that can capture a person’s imagination, that make a twelve-year-old wonder, and dream and get excited about being on a mountain. That memory can last, and, when that twelve-year-old grows up, he still wonders and dreams and gets excited about being on a mountain.



An account of my first backpacking trip in 1996. I did not know what I was doing to say the least! But, everyone has to start somewhere. With me on that first trip was my buddy Tim. We both went to the same Catholic elementary school, worked in the same hospital, and (along with our other buddy Leo) probably spent enough to money on beers and wings in “Dave’s Bar and Grill” to pay for the addition they put up shortly after I moved to Colorado. I do doubt Tim’s sanity since he left a lovely, intelligent, attractive girlfriend to join me for the last stretch of my Appalachian Trail thru-hike. His sanity was further questioned four years later when he left his a lovely, intelligent, attractive WIFE to join me for the last stretch of the Pacific Crest Trail. This letter was published in the September 2001 issue of Backpacker Magazine.

Years ago, my friend Tim and I started our summer with a trip to the White Mountains of New Hampshire. I had done dayhikes and camping while in the Boyscouts, but no backpacking. I was 25 pounds overweight, and my gear included a Rambo-sized knife, a flashlight with a big 6-volt battery, and enough canned goods to stock a 7-Eleven. But we planned to only hike 12 miles, so how difficult could that be?

The first day, I was out of breath as we hiked, but enjoyed the sunshine and the fantastic views-until we realized we'd forgotten the map. Tim said he remembered the way, so not to worry. Around 6 PM, we saw the same campsite we had used the previous night. We'd hiked in a 12-mile circle! We set up the tent, didn't bother to eat dinner, and collapsed in our sleeping bags.

Skip ahead two years to a sunny August day. I'm on the summit of Kathadin, Maine, a big smile on my face because I had just complete a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail. On that first, mistake-prone, trip, I got lost, carried too much, and in the end enjoyed myself thoroughly. Out of th adventure came a love for backpacking.


I've always liked this journal entry of mine. This entry seems to encompass how I felt about my 5 month journey on the Appalachian Trail.

Mile Post 2110.9 ~ Lower Jo-Mary Lake
July 29 ~ The trail has many pleasures to offer. From the broad sweep of
grassy fields on a bald in the South, to the majestic landscape of the
Grayson Highlands, to the rugged beauty of the White Mountains.
But, I think I enjoy these quiet, subtle moments, more.

This campsite is by far the best I have ever been in. A natural beach on the quiet shores
of Jo-Mary Lake. The wind is a slight breeze, and the sun is reflecting on the lake
with a soft, orange glow. I am writing this journal entry by the water, listening to the
gentle sounds of the waves lapping at the shore. A place that lends itself
to contemplation. This place and moment is best enjoyed in silence. Nature
is doing all the talking that needs to be done for tonight.

weary
02-07-2005, 16:23
I'm curious to hear about people's best day on the trail, or the day when the bells rung, everything clicked and you knew backpacking was for you. I'll hold off for awhile and listen to some others.
(thought this might be a way to bring some positive life and energy back into WhiteBlaze!)
Well, I can think of around 150 days that are pretty much tied for being the best. Shall I tell you about all of them?

Weary

Skeemer
02-07-2005, 18:30
Weary wrote:
Well, I can think of around 150 days that are pretty much tied for being the best. Shall I tell you about all of them?

How much would it cost for you not to tell us?

A-Train
02-07-2005, 19:15
How much would it cost for you not to tell us?

10,000 hours of trail maintenance

fatmatt
02-08-2005, 00:06
My favorite day so far, was our Standing Indian to Big Spring Shelter day. We woke up on the summit to the most awesome sunrise and view. Then it began pouring on us at around Betty Creek Gap, On our way up the rocky Albert Mountain it began storming and really pouring hard. And we treked on to the shelter. This day compelled Energizer and I to do a month section hike this summer, which I cannot wait for. This would have to be the day that I truly fell in love with the AT! :clap

Kerosene
02-08-2005, 23:33
I've hiked just over half the AT in sections, pretty much from Catawba, Virginia to Glencliff, New Hampshire, plus Georgia; with my first hike in 1973. Probably my best day was in October 2003 on a 9-day hike from Buena Vista SOBO to Craig Creek Valley south of Catawba. Six days in I stayed in Daleville for the night and started at daybreak the next morning with the temperature just above freezing. I had a lovely walk up to the ridgeline of Tinker Mountain on a sunny day, getting several great pictures of the fog burning off of Carvins Cove (http://www.whiteblaze.net/gallery/showgallery.php?mcats=all&si=carvins&what=title&name=Kerosene&when=&whenterm=).

I had lunch at the Lamberts Meadow Shelter, but should have stopped at the campsite and lunched on the big flat rocks by the stream out in the sun. I spent some time exploring the cave under Tinker Cliffs and taking pictures before starting down the ridgeline to Catawba Mountain. I was going to stay at Campbell's Shelter for the night, but it was a perfect bluebird-sky afternoon and I really wanted to get some good pictures from atop McAfee Knob. I took my time to the top and spent a lot of time just looking out over the valley, picking out the ridgeline I had walked along the entire day. It was a very relaxing and rewarding experience.

Here's a link (http://www.whiteblaze.net/forum/showthread.php?t=2957) to that trip's journal (see Day 7 for links to pictures from this section).

wacocelt
02-09-2005, 00:42
My best day ON the trail was in 00' going southbound. I had been hiking for about a week with a 63 year old named Albatross, who was yo-yoing (NoBo'ed to Katahdin and turned to walk back). I had severaly misjudged my food leaving Monson and began the day out of Pierce Pond Shelter with only a pack of Ramen to my name. Albatross and I had planned to meet up and stay the night at the shelter north of the Bigelows (can't recall the name atm), which meant a fairly easy 16 mile day. We both arrived at the shelter slightly after noon, so I set up in the shelter and started reading a book, trying valiantly to ignore my last remaining food item until later that evening.
Around 1:30 a NoBo hiked in and he and Albatross conversed about Stratton, which at this point was begining to sound like the Garden of Eden. I plied them both about how bad the 12 miles to Horn Pond Shelter was, as I figured 5 miles into town in the morning without food was better than 17 miles. They both informed me that it was no cake walk, then Albatross grins and says, "But if you do it you'll really have stories to tell!"

I quickly cooked and ate my last meal then hurriedly packed and left the shelter at 2:15, to this point the day had been sunny and warm. As I reached the first peak of my climb that day I saw the ugliest, inky black clouds I could have ever imagined steam-rolling thier way towards where I stood, not just towards the mountains I was in, they saw me as I saw them and they made a bee-line for me. An extremely strong, cold wind began to blow and in less than 10 minutes I was soaked to the skin by a deluge of huge, splattering raindrops. It only rained for about 45 minutes but when it stopped raining the temperature had dropped from low 70's to high 50's with a strong wind and overcast skies. "Stories to tell", I grumbled to myself dozens of times over the next few hours.
I had probably gone 7 or 8 miles and was light-headed from lack of food and probably mild hypothermia, when I began hearing voices, lots of voices. As I crested the next climb I walked through a bank of fog into the middle of a bunch of college kids who were in the process of doling out hotdogs, huge hunks of cheese, apples and the like. I'm quite sure I looked like the most miserable person on the planet at that point, so this made my first attempt at Yogi'ing a very succesful one, to say the least. They plied me with food and questions for about 30 minutes when I thanked them profusely and hiked on, but not before they gifted me with more apples, cheese and a hunk of home-made bread smeared with home-made peanut butter.
I don't think I had gone more than a mile when I began hearing voices in the fog again, then met yet another college group out for the weekend and was once again barraged with food and questions.
I finally reached Horn Pond about an hour before dark, the clouds cleared and I watched a moose graze in the pond under an absolutely stunning sunset while munching on an apple, feeling physically exhausted yet mentally/spritually invigorated and thinking just how right Albatross had been.
===================================

My best day NEAR the trail was in 03 at Ms.Janet's House when I met a beautiful red haired young lady named Tripp, who I am now happily and humbly married to.


P.S. Sorry if the first one was a bit long folks.

Happypappy
02-20-2005, 14:58
My best trail day? Probably the first time I hiked the west rim trail of the Pennsylvania grand canyon. I had a long day, but saw NO ONE all day, finally found some water ( drought year ) and made camp on the canyon rim. I awoke before sunrise and watched the clouds of the night slowly lift out of the canyon as the sun rose. I was so struck by the whole thing that I was probably lying there awake at least an hour before I made my breakfast and coffee. I felt so at peace that day, that I never broke camp til the next morning. And I go back there still, once, twice, or more often during the year.

Bad Ass Turtle
02-20-2005, 15:05
in those farmlands past Boiling Springs. Being a Texas girl, I just kept thinking to myself "I can see! I can see!" Out of the trees where I could look over the landscape -- what a great feeling. I was listening to Tom Petty and rocking out, singing at the top of my lungs "I'M FREE! FREE FALLIN'". Duracell was hiking with me at the time, and he got a serious kick out of me screaming with joy at the top of my lungs.
Bad Ass Turtle