The morning’s hiking was fairly unremarkable. I got started a bit late, traversed the minor ups and downs, and met a hiker called Big Rig at a water source. I like easy days like this, it means I can turn off my mind and just walk.

The afternoon was more interesting however. Immediately after lunch I began a fairly long climb up the side of a mountain called The Nipple.

Most of the trail up here was above the treeline and the wind was crazy strong. It was rocky and open and the path was a little rough but the views were very good. I didn’t take the side trail up to the peak as it looked straight up and my ankle was feeling pretty tired. Walking this area meant I was constantly bracing myself against the wind but it also meant that, when I passed behind a rock outcropping on the descent, the sudden absence of that wind caused me to stagger to the side.

I got below the trees, out of the gale, and found a small campground to crash in. There was another hiker already here and to my surprise, they were a SOBO (southbound) PCT section hiker! I’d not met any SOBOs before and we chatted a bit over dinner, giving each other details of the upcoming terrain.

Day 95: Look at the Fireworks

Like the previous day, the morning was uneventful. I went over Carson pass easily and reached the trailhead shortly after, passing many day hikers on the way in. The information station there had a trail magic setup with snacks and sodas and I was all to happy to take advantage of it. I saw Presto again here and met a hiker called Celery.

The way onward was easy mountain hiking. It reminded me a little of the Tuolumne area of the Sierra as there were very many day hikers and weekend backpackers hiking around me. I’ve been a little careful up until now not to align my blog posts with any specific dates but it’s important to share here that today was the 4th of July so people were out and I knew there would be fireworks tonight. I could’ve made South Lake Tahoe today but I wanted to avoid the madhouse of a tourist town on a holiday so I’d planned to find a campsite with a view of the lake and watch the spectacle from a distance.

I found the perfect site, about 4 miles from the road, and found Presto and a hiker called Sketchy were already there. The show started at 9:30, past when I’m usually fully asleep, so I ate an early dinner and dozed for a few hours to try to keep myself well-rested for tomorrow. Come 9:15 I climbed a very large boulder set into the hill side next to my tent and enjoyed the show from there. The explosions were visible but far enough away to almost completely inaudible.

Day 96: The Bliss of New Shoes

Only being a few miles from town meant I was under no pressure to get up early and I made sure I slept in. The few miles into town were all downhill too. The last mile or so was through a section of burned forest, the first I’d seen on trail. The trees were grey and still and it was just a little eerie. Thankfully the mile went fast and I soon found myself with thumb out at the road. A cop pulled someone over right in the pullout section I was hitching from so I put my thumb down, thinking nobody was going to stop while that was going on. Entirely unprompted however a car pulled over and asked if I needed a ride into town! The driver named Tom and his wife Claudia were here for the holiday and were very excited to meet a PCT hiker. They dropped me off just across the street from the hostel where I would be staying. I dropped my pack off and picked up the new shoes I’d shipped here. I don’t think I can properly communicate the bliss of walking in new, supportive, grippy shoes after going miles in worn out footwear.

The rest of the day was town chores and relaxing. I purchased a new CNOC dirty bag to repace my broken one, wandered around town a little (chock full of tourists), and picked up some cheap backpacker meals from Sierra Trading Post. When I got back to the hostel I showered and did laundry then took advantage of their computer lab to write up a few blog posts. I headed to a well-rated burger place for dinner and discovered that just by walking down the street I had crossed into Nevada. I’d been paying relatively little attention to the map beyond the trail so it was a surprise when I crossed at an intersection and suddenly went from clothing stores to casinos. The burger was good though.

Day 97: Into Desolation Wilderness

Town meals are particularly exciting after long stretches on trail and the mountain of pork, eggs, and salsa over tortilla chips I ate at a local diner was divine. I packed up, showered, then kept blogging for the last hour before I had to check out. South Lake Tahoe has a Grocery Outlet thankfully so I headed there first for my resupply, then stopped by a more conventional (but more expensive) grocery store for the few items I couldn’t find. I ended up staying at this store, a Raley’s, for a little longer, using their Wi-Fi to get a few more posts finished and scheduled to go public. For anyone curious, I do most of my writing on the notes app on my phone and that can be done anywhere, but images and various configuration chores need to be done with an internet connection.

A local named Sydney gave me a hitch back to the trail and I was back among the trees. The burned trees unfortunately, large stretches of trail were blackened and dead.

I walked past Berkeley Echo Lake Camp, a summer camp I once CITed at in my teens, then past Echo Lake itself. A lot of people were here as well but as I hiked further they thinned out. I’d spent too much time in town though and it was getting dark as I climbed up from the lakes into Desolation Wilderness where I would be able to camp.

Day 98: Lakes I Want To Revisit

The late night meant I was up later than I’d liked and I think I need to start being more conscious of how I hike out of town. If I get back to trail too late, I don’t get to my campsite until too late as well and that throws off my hiking and sleeping schedule until I get to the next town.

The morning walk was past an absolutely gorgeous lake, Lake Aloha. The water was the blue I’ve only previously seen in tropical ocean and all the islands looked to inviting. I wish I’d known how great this lake was, I would have packed additional food and maybe spent a day here. Ah well, it’s just somewhere I’ll have to come back to I suppose.

The rest of the day was more lakes, though none quite as stunning as the first. I crossed over Dicks Pass in the afternoon without too much trouble. There was only a little snow at the top, a far cry from the snow fields of the high Sierra. There were more lakes on the other side of course.

I reached the tent site I’d planned for around 6:30 but it was quite full so I had to hike another hour to find an open spot. The mosquito swarm descended as the shadows grew long and I walked fast, slapping at my arms constantly to dislodge the bloodsuckers continually landing there. I love most insects but mosquitos are the true exception and I loathe them so.

Trail Stats:

Catholes: 33

Stops to filter water: 152

Resupplies: 16

Hitches: 19

Zeros: 15

Crys on trail: 13

Blisters: 12

Gear repairs: 19

Miles Skipped: 212.3

Significant Water Crossings: 100

Falls: 3

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Honestly, for a donation-based hostel where the hostel owners don’t have any other significant/obvious forms of income, the beds at the Yellow Deli Hiker Hostel were fantastic. It’s clearly a labour of love. But yes, there are many things I don’t agree with everything they believe in. I do still highly recommend people to stay though, since it’s kind of an “iconic” ish experience.

I somehow was the first to wake up in our bunkroom, which was wild. But, I still feel drained, even after yesterday’s Zero. In fact, I just feel drained in general. After getting past Killington, and seeing the “500 miles to Katahdin” sign… that was the first time I’ve really wanted this to be over. I’m sure the constant malnourishment and low energy doesn’t help. It’s sad that my body’s failing me. It’s funny how there’s a parabola between “got my trail legs,” and “my legs are strong but my body is dying.”

All that to say that leaving the hostel this morning was a difficult ask. I went down for their breakfast — cottage cheese, eggs, and cheese on rice. I don’t like cottage cheese, so I gave it away, but downed the rest. They also made some great coffee. At the table, I re-met Bridget, who was an LT thru-hiker I met on her first night on trail, and just sat around and listened to what others were planning to do today. Peanut and Tode were taking a zero at the deli, and Plinko/Woodworm were going to start going up the Long Trail instead of along the AT. I didn’t really want to Zero in Rutland, so I decided to get a move on.

But, one order of business. For the trail, I’ve been using the Shokz OpenFit 2 headphones, which have been great. I used them constantly for running, and I love how I can hear my surroundings while they’re still on. Just one problem… they use a proprietary charging case. And one of the pins in the case is recessed permanently, which means that it’s been harder and harder to get my headphones to charge. Finally, though, it seems like the case has finally breathed its last breath. So I went to Walmart in hopes of finding a new pair. Unfortunately they were out of the model I had, but they had the old OpenFit Air, so I just went with those. I can already foresee issues with the touch controls being hit accidentally by the bug net, but what’re you to do when your technology fails you?

Submitted a warranty claim, and got a sandwich from the PriceChopper nearby, before heading back to the hostel. I missed the 9:15 bus out… so I took my time talking to Plinko and Wormwood a bit more, picking their minds about things. Mostly Plinko. He was such a help at Trail Days that I couldn’t help but almost feel as if he’s partially a mentor. Asked him about his food strategies, his hiking strategies, mentalities, all that good stuff.

All this thinking aside, I then went off to catch… The Bus! The Yellow Deli Hiker Hostel doesn’t bother providing shuttles, since Vermont provides a very cheap bus that goes from the Inn At Long Trail (where I got off with my friends two days ago) straight to a bus stop just a block over from the hostel. I got on, and the driver and I struck up a conversation about how my hike is going. And, this dear reader, is where I have to admit something.

I’m pretty burnt out with the trail. Maybe extremely burnt out of the trail. I didn’t expect the trail to “change me” or anything, but I did at least hope that I’d be having a grand old time all the way through. And I really was!… until the Mid-Atlantic. And while New England’s provided a small boost, there’s still the really hot conditions and the bugs to deal with. And then there’s the deal with the end date. I’m actually ahead of schedule now, even with the Whites standing scarily in the distance. So, I know that I can just take it easy, right? The problem is… I can’t even muster the energy to sleep outdoors anymore. The great outdoors sometimes feels like a coffin of bugs, rain, and heat, and something in me wants nothing more than a month where I can just sit inside and watch a movie, or something. But that’s me just wanting another extreme.

I think the best thing I can do is to try to take some good nearos or zeroes and then hike on in better conditions. I know my thoughts on this change constantly. There are days where I’m zooming along (usually when there’s good coffee on trail…), and there’re days when I can’t even get myself to walk another step (like today). I should throw this end date out the window… and just let the trail end when it ends. Trying to force something isn’t helping. If I get to Shaw’s, and I’m one day off my goal, sure, I’ll take an extra Zero or something. But there’s no use thinking about all of this when I still have the hardest 450 miles left to go. (by the way, since this was written about three weeks ago… I might have different opinions by now and better strategies to manage the burnout 😉 )

I got dropped off at the Inn At Long Trail, taking a look around and remembering how it felt when my friends were around. Then, I got going. Up, and up, and up… and then down and down. I ran back into Morgan, a MA/VT section hiker who’s hiking with her dog! I’m unsure if I wrote about the first encounter with her, but it was at the Rock Pond Shelter on the night before Killington. She’d gotten a bit turned around with some blowdowns and inconsistent blazing, so I helped her find her way, and we hiked together for about an hour. It was nice to converse… and this is where I realized something else. Partially why I’m so out of it is probably because I haven’t found my “tribe” yet. Of all the long trails, the AT is the one of tramilies, but I haven’t been able to find one that matches both my pace, and are also good matches for me as people. There’ve been brief moments, but then either I burn out and they want to get ahead, or I have a spurt of energy and want to hike, and they fall behind. For a social trail… it’s been a lonely walk.

I know the real bubble’s about three weeks behind me, and there’s a very small mini-bubble about a week behind me. And given how far my end date is, I could wait a week. But sitting around for a week now will probably bring that other feeling back. The feeling that I’m not going to make it “on time,” whatever on time really means. This is all so funny. I shouldn’t be worried about any of this stuff. The trail’s so simple. Just walk forward. But I’m me. This was something I was supposed to work on. *sigh*.

Morgan and I parted at Gifford Woods State Park, where she was going to triple Zero. She’d actually made it further than her planned hike, and needed to kill some time before her ride got her at Norwich, so she was going to spend some R&R here, watch some movies, go into town on the bus. That sounds so nice…

I’m speeding ahead a bit though, because I want to get to the Whites by the weekend. While I don’t think anyone necessarily is waiting on me there for anything important, it’s still a close enough destination to Boston that there’s a chance something could magically happen this weekend if the time comes. Plus, being ahead of the mini-bubble, or other hikers, makes it more likely that I get a Work For Stay. Yes, even with all this complaining about it being a lonely trail… there are still some highlights to it. Campsite selection being one of them. So many marbles to roll in the head… (if you can’t tell, this has been on my mind for a long time).

Whew, we’re already at 1300 words for this blog post… what a sufferfest! Sorry about that, but I figured it’s better to let people in to my true state of mind rather than pretend everything on trail is hunky dory.

Afterwards, I started struggling with hiking through the day. The humidity was through the ROOF it felt like I was hiking through soup! Skirted by the lovely Kent Pond, and then back up, up, and up. This is where I ran into some more issues… I ran out of water. I thought there’d be a source due to some FarOut comments and recent rains… but it was bone dry. So my normal caffeine shot that I have around 2 PM wasn’t there. That probably also contributed to the sadder feelings that I normally can dodge.

Alas… onwards! I took frequent breaks to not let my heart rate get too high in the heat, but by the time I reached Stony Brook Shelter, I was beat. Drank as much water as could fit in my belly, and then grabbed more for the road. I probably overloaded on water given that there are reliable sources on the road, but today it didn’t matter. I just wanted to get any of it I could into my system.

The rest of the day kind of became a monotonous slog/blur. I was getting attacked by bugs at every angle. I was going through some rough terrain, just wondering when it was all going to end. Grabbed some water for the rest of my day, but what should’ve been a 10 minute stop turned into 30 as I just couldn’t will myself to move anymore. Turns out, even though I did a measly 15 miles today, I still almost did 5k in vert. I didn’t even plan for this in advance… so it kind of kicked me in the butt. That, and I’ve been struggling to eat.

I know I’ve been going through ketosis recently. My clothes all smell sour. But no matter what, I just can’t get enough calories in. Loads of chips, freeze dried meals, ramen, tuna packets, nuts and nuts and nuts. None of it feels good going down. And yet I can still feel myself getting weaker every day. I know there’s no real way to “lose” in a thru-hike, and yet it feels like I’m losing.

So, I ended the day at the unofficial Lookout “Shelter,” which is a privately owned cabin set aside for hikers. Inside, I ran back into Marky-Mark, who was camping at Greenwall the day I was there. Huh, looks like everyone’s surpassed me from before. I guess that means I’m going average pace now. I climbed to the top to get some spectacular views while eating dinner, but I wasn’t able to enjoy it for long… even about 30 feet up, the bugs were still vicious! So I did my best and went to bed.

I just… wasn’t feeling it today. It’s hot again. Maybe I should wait it out. I think I’ll throw this birthday plan in the drain, and figure out some other way to spend it. Who even knows anymore?

(title lyrics from: Time to Say Goodbye, Jeff Williams and Casey Lee Williams)

Writing that reminds us just how beautiful and vast our world really is

During the pandemic, when the world shrank to the size of my living room, I started to crave adventure again, as I did when I was younger. Physically unable to travel, I found comfort in travel writing and books that transported me to distant places, where I wandered alongside the author through vibrant markets and found quiet in remote mountain villages. 

Within those pages, I reawakened a part of myself that yearns for discovery. The words reminded me of just how beautiful and vast our world really is.

Here are five of my favourite travel reads that will transport you to a faraway place. Not all of these are typical travel destination books, but they do offer insights into people and cultures.

Red Sands by Caroline Eden

Caroline Eden is one of the most creative travel writers today, combining reportage with recipes and beautiful photography. Red Sands, the second of her colour trilogy, covers all five countries of central Asia: Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, Turkmenistan and Tajikistan. She transports readers to bustling markets, remote tearooms, Soviet-era canteens and the warmth of everyday kitchens, offering a rich tapestry of regional dishes and the human stories behind them.

Red Sands includes dispatches from a trip to a mare milk factory in Karaganda, central Kazakhstan, a visit to a plov and shashlik cafe in Rishton with one of Uzbekistan’s master ceramicists and a reunion with her friend Imenjon in Osh, where they discuss Soviet mountaineering on a tapchan. Being from central Asia myself, I appreciate that Eden avoids the usual exoticism that so often colours portrayals of the region, and instead uncovers authentic and captivating stories.

In My Mother’s Footsteps: A Palestinian Refugee Returns Home by Mona Hajjar Halaby

The daughter of Palestinian refugees, Mona Hajjar Halaby grew up in Geneva and later settled in California, where she worked as an educator. In My Mother’s Footsteps is the story of the year she moved to the West Bank to teach conflict resolution at a local school in Ramallah. Alongside vivid observations of her classes — where she witnesses the trauma inflicted on these children by the Israeli occupation — is Halaby’s own journey into her Palestinian roots and the home her mother was forced to leave.

Throughout the year she spends in Ramallah, her mother writes her letters, woven into the book, rich with family history, memories of love and loss. The letters guide Halaby, helping her retrace the world her mother had left behind. In a beautiful conclusion, Halaby’s mother eventually joins her in Palestine, but this time, it is the daughter leading the mother through the rapidly changing landscape. 

Amid the ongoing genocide in Gaza and escalating violence in the West Bank, this book will transport you to the region through words, to learn about Palestinian history and life under Israeli occupation.

Minarets in the Mountains by Tharik Hussain

When Tharik Hussain first heard about indigenous Muslim communities in Europe, he decided to go on a journey through the western Balkans to learn more about them and in doing so, challenge the myth that Islam is foreign to the continent.

Minarets in the Mountains is a search for a Muslim Europe that has always existed. “This is what made the Muslims of the Balkans so important,” he writes. “They were not the result of immigration nor were they converts to Islam or been forged in and of Europe. It was an identity entrenched fully in local society. They were European as they were Muslim.”

Hussain sets off with his wife and family to Bosnia and Herzegovina, Serbia, Kosovo, North Macedonia, Albania and Montenegro, following in the footsteps of the Ottoman explorer Evliya Çelebi. They visit historic mosques, tombs and mystical Islamic lodges, Unesco heritage sites, and meet local people who show them generous hospitality. It’s fascinating how culturally diverse Muslim communities are in this region, so much so that the author is taken aback when a Muslim local in Albania offers him a beer. When Tharik explains he doesn’t drink beer, he’s offered something stronger.

While the travelogue leans heavily on Ottoman history — sometimes more than I would have preferred — it opened my eyes to the layers of conflict and change that have shaped the Balkans today, making me want to plan a similar trip in the near future.

Around the World in 80 Trains by Monisha Rajesh

Monisha Rajesh’s Around the World in 80 Trains is a witty and honest memoir capturing seven months of train travel with her fiance, complete with long days spent confined to the same carriage, meals that range from uninspired to downright stale and the inevitable bouts of illness that leave the couple stationary. Rajesh provides a vivid account of what it’s like to travel the world by train, passing through Russia, Mongolia, North Korea and Vietnam along the way. 

Beyond the destinations themselves, what I enjoyed most was the glimpse into the chaotic and unpredictable rhythm of this kind of trip. From getting ripped off by laundromats and taxi drivers to experiencing moments of hospitality that go above and beyond, Rajesh’s stories paint a rich picture of life on the rails. One thing becomes clear quickly: every stop feels too brief and every departure is tinged with bittersweet farewells, knowing that most of the people you meet, you will never see again.

Karachi Vice by Samira Shackle

Karachi Vice is a gripping portrait of a city located at the southern tip of Pakistan, along the Arabian Sea coast. Following the lives of Safdar, an ambulance driver, Parveen, an activist and street school teacher, Siraj, a community organiser, Jannat, a Sindhi village woman with children and Zille, a crime reporter, we learn about the metropolis inhabited by 20 million people, where inequality is stark and violence a daily reality. 

What impressed me most about Shackle’s writing was how she retells the major events that have shaped Karachi through the eyes of the people we are introduced to, skillfully weaving their personal stories and connecting them. From the outbreaks of gang warfare and terror attacks on Shia Muslims to development projects that displace communities, and the government’s Karachi Operation aimed at cracking down on crime and the city’s powerful groups, we get a real sense of how these forces leave their mark on each individual and their ambitions.

Karachi Vice is a thoroughly engaging, fast-paced work of narrative nonfiction that exposes how corruption and power crush the dreams of ordinary people. It paints a picture of a city that is rapidly changing and captures the beautiful resilience of communities and those who dare to go against the grain. Even in the most troubled quarters, history and beauty remain, if you know where to look.