These two journal entries concern the only night I did not sleep in my solo tent.

Aug 22, 1996	Upper Goose Pond Cabin
Thursday - 8:15 pm	Appalachian Trial
written by candlelight	Outside of Lee, Massachusetts

Emotional turmoil - I'm drowning in it. Nearly lost it mentally again this morning. Feeling really stressed. Half a dozen of us are sitting on the porch of this cabin. I stay outside ‘cause it smells bad inside.

Anyway, it took me until 11:00 am to start hiking this morning, ‘cause I had to hitch a ride to the trail access. It was the same this morning as yesterday - indecision - chaotic thoughts - a bit of panic - do I hike or go home? On and on like a broken record the thoughts ran through my mind. I'd stop, think, head held back, thoughts whirling, then turn back and head off the mountain. Then again, the same process, and I'd turn around and start up the mountain again. On and on. Rough. Got to stop that.

Took me until 1:30 to hike the ?? miles - mostly ups. (I'll have to figure out the miles from the data book.) It was too early in the day to stop hiking really. When I got here there was no one else around. I dumped my pack and walked down to the lake. Later, after other hikers came in, we sat here on the porch and talked. I want to go home, I told them. Got it all set up - with one of the day hikers agreeing to carry my pack out for $20. From trail's end I could thumb a ride to a campground maybe. Then everyone began to stall and started trying to convince me I hadn't given it a fair shot, that I should continue on at least another few days. I didn't want to listen - I just wanted to get out of here. I'm not having fun - not enjoying this, I told them in a pouty voice. Like earlier, when people went swimming in the clear, clean, warm water lake, I just watched and didn't join them. I feel separated from the rest of these hikers. They're all so nice, but I feel disconnected.

Later, I finally agreed to let Crackers purge my pack - as an experiment. He took out six or seven pounds. I am dismayed at what he took away - my little blue lantern is gone and I have been using that every night. I still need to carry the fuel bottle for the tiny burner. Notebooks, pens, a piece of rope, a pancho, a couple of squeegy cords, one book - all gone. He left me one pen for these journals. He even took the little good luck charm (weighs less than an oz) which Harold had given me. I stole it back and clipped it on the outside of my pack. I could not have been so ruthless with myself, and I'm grateful to Crackers for doing it for me. He changed my pack setup so the load is better balanced. They're still encouraging me to go on with the trek.

Crackers and Trix got engaged on Springer Mountain (Georgia) when they started this thru-hike months ago. They are northbounders. They went off trail and got married last Saturday, taking a week off to rest up. I took their picture. He was holding a sack with all the stuff he purged from my pack. (Picture was on the roll of film which got ruined. Irreplaceable pictures.) The stuff purged from my pack will be slack-packed back to Lee - the city I left from this morning - and mailed off to Michael in Shoreham (Vermont).

Am feeling strong inner conflict. Tomorrow I must hike seven miles, still southbound, to reach the next shelter, which will be just a lean-to.

Tonight, I'll be sleeping without my tent for the first time and am nervous about that. Seven people here, plus two dogs. I'm going to bury my head inside the sleeping bag tonight. If I am still indecisive tomorrow, I'm going to hike out to the nearest town and catch a bus back to my car in Vermont.

Pack broke this morning. A little round steel clip holding one side to the frame broke. Had to nearly drag it. Not fun. Repaired it at hardware shop in Lee for 20 cents. Nice little town. Friendly people. Several miles of flat walking before I finally caught a ride. It was another mile or so walk from where I got dropped off to the trail access. Had to cross over a major highway on a high bridge. It felt good to enter the forest on the other side of the bridge - so much cooler.

Stargazer, a heavy-set, friendly female is the volunteer caretaker of this cabin for today. She is a heavy smoker, but is also a hiker. $3 fee for overnight stay. (No charge or caretakers, at the small little shelters and lean-tos.)

I should get to sleep, but am wide awake, not tired at all. There are three others still here on the porch talking. Getting chilly. Getting dark before 8:30 these evenings.

Aug 23, 1996	Upper Goose Pond Cabin
Friday - 10:10 am	Appalachian Trial

I'm back to sitting on the porch - once more filled with this damn indecision. I'm not going to be successful if I don't get it together mentally and emotionally. Why did I stop taking the Zoloft early in August, before I left New Mexico? It was a foolish thing to do. Okay, okay, it was a stupid thing to do. Anyway, I reluctantly started back on it this morning. The weepy feelings have been increasing each day - it was time.

One of the men who stayed here last night - Dave - is an interesting one, albeit a bit strange. He's my age, but he's not a hiker per se. He's a vagabond, homeless. He told us he walks the highways during cold weather and the Appalachian Trial during warm weather. He carries not a backpack, but rather a big blue duffle bag, mended with gray duct tape. It's filled, he said, with his winter clothing and other possessions. He had a black gym bag as well. He ties the two together with clothesline and slings the heavy burden over one shoulder. Over his over shoulder he carries two plastic bleach bottles, filled with water, tied together with two feet of clothesline. He does not have a water filter. He slept on a small back porch floor last night, I'm told, covered by several blankets.

When Crackers purged my pack yesterday, the others gathered ‘round and watched - it was a joking, pleasant time. A veteran hiker had done the same for him when he and Trixie first started their trek, Crackers told us. It's a trail tradition. When he came upon my little stash and pot pipe, he frowned at me and shook his head, but he didn't put the stuff in the purge stack. I guess I'm a bit of a strange one also, cause pot doesn't seem to be widely used up here in the mountains, at least not openly. I explained to everyone it was a sleep medication for me, which is true, and they grinned and accepted that. But not Dave. He was very disapproving. "A woman your age shouldn't be messin' with that stuff," he pronounced in a loud voice, "you should be ashamed of yourself." He went on for several minutes like that. I shined him on as did the others. Apparently his disapproval went deeper than I realized, ‘cause this morning he wouldn't talk to me. He rudely refused to answer direct questions I put to him. The other hikers, eating breakfast before hitting the trail, told me he was weird and to ignore him, which I did. He's southbound, Dave is, same as me, and I did not care to be in his vicinity. So I made a reasonable decision to hold back for a day and let him go on ahead. So that's why I'm still here. (Or was I looking for an excuse to stay behind?)

Okay, I'll balance that story off with a funny one. I went very reluctantly to one of the bunks in the cabin last night, long after the others had drifted off the porch and into their bags. Five or six others were already there, sleeping, but in the dark, I could smell them and hear them. Nasty. I used my little flashlight to find an empty bunk next to a screened opening and hurriedly crawled into my bed roll and faced the screening, hoping for a bit of fresh air. During the night of restless sleep, I quietly got up several times and walked out for a cigarette and to pee clandestinely. Each time I crawled back into my sack, I was overcome with the bad odors of the place and resolved never to sleep inside again, but would pitch my tent outside for sure. (I kept that resolution easily, as I never came to another full-shelter.) I was uncomfortable being so close to other people and wished I had pitched my tent outside as Crackers and Trix had.

At dawn I crawled out of my bag and bent over to put on my socks . . . draped over my hiking boots . . . on the floor . . . directly below where my head had been laying. . . That's when I snapped. I thought it was everyone else who was smelling bad, and it was myself instead! Had to laugh. I expect, however, that the boots and socks of the other hikers also added to the . . . ah . . . atmosphere.

I was going to dig a hole and bury the socks, as washing in water did not remove the odor and I was not about to put them into my pack. One of the things Crackers had purged from my pack was my one bar of soap! The bag of purged items was hidden from me by Crackers and Trix so I wouldn't sneak things back into my pack - so I couldn't get to my soap. The problem was resolved by a section hiker, who was headed off-trail. He gave me a very small plastic bottle of biodegradable soap, telling me it was named Doctor somethingorother. He said to use just a couple of drops on each sock when I rewashed them. I did and was amazed. The odor completely disappeared and almost no rinsing was required. Thankfully, I hung them to dry on the porch.

All this morning I've been going through the usual agonies of indecision. Do I really want to hike onward? My pack is lighter and fits me a bit better. Still . . . Much of the trail ahead of me was "ups", I have been warned by the others. What if I can't make it to the next shelter before dark? Do I have the courage to tent it out in the wilderness alone, away from a lean-to? Probably . . . What worries me is being trapped in an intolerable situation with no way out. What if I lose it mentally, out there alone in the middle of the night? But yet if I don't lose it, it could be a marvelous experience. I could wing my mind out into space and maybe transcend myself or whatever . . . If I could find even a small space without tree cover, I could lay in my tent with the rain tarp off and watch the heavens through the net covering. Now that would be awesome for sure

In a more practical sense, a very real concern is that I am totally out of cigarettes. I've been bumming from Stargazer all morning. She assures me she doesn't mind, as she is here just for last night and today and will be hiking out this afternoon when her replacement arrives. She says she has plenty of cigarettes for both of us for this day. I put on a Nicotine patch this morning, but it hasn't helped much. I've only one other patch left. So I might be stuck out here tonight with my body screaming for nicotine. Hard to have a transcendential experience that way. My mind control is so weak.

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Email author: Martee Thomas