Reading Trail Journals

I'm on my way to Bethel- weather report doesn't look good, though- cold with patchy fog. It's a good thing I always pack as if I'd have to snow machine home. I checked the pizza as baggage so I didn't have to carry it around the Anchorage airport so I hope I don't regret that later.

I have been amusing myself by reading Appalachian Trail Journals looking ahead to something I'd like to do someday. It's a task avoidance behavior; I should actually be writing math test items for NWEA since I contracted to write 100 of them before the end of May. But, that being said, there is some fun knowledge to be had in the journals. Here are some trail vocabulary words for you to study: trail angel, blue blaze, slack packer, zero day, shelter mice, sobo and nobo, and trail name. On the last, it is tradition for your trail name to be given to you by others. Right now, my trail name is Pound Hound since I have been known to "help" hiking mates to leave stuff behind.

When my husband and I hiked the Chilkoot Trail the first time, we were on our honeymoon. We also had never hiked together so I'm sure we overpacked, including optional items like deoderant and a change of clothes. At any rate, in those days you could camp anywhere and set your own pace, so we had some beautiful campsites and a wonderful adventure, bringing home dozens of pictures of alpine flowers. But the day we went over Chilkoot Pass, it was gloomy and foggy. The pack I was wearing hung low off my back, due to excess weight and my shortness. When I stretched up to climb over the boulders, I had the sensation of being pulled backwards. Had I succombed, I would surely have died. The Pass has 2 false summits and hope springs eternal everytime it looks like the top. In the thick fog, it was difficult to identify anything. My new long-legged husband waited for me every few feet, but was often just an image in the fog. All of a sudden, I had a strange sensation of being watched. As the fog thinned I noticed the animals all along the ridge, looking at me and licking their chops. I hollared, "Wolves!" and pointed up at the cliffs ringing the climb. My husband looked up and as he did, the wolves turned into sheep. It's just as well. As tired as I was, the wolves would have just had to eat me....I couldn't have run away.

Last year's 25th anniversary hike was much less eventful, but ironically, easier. Our packs for 5 days were less than 25 pounds and we have started hiking a consistent but comfortable pace. We summited before noon and were only the second group into Happy Camp on the other side. We were into our tent taking our afternoon nap when the rain started and had a comfortable time eating dinner and visiting with others. The older the violin, the sweeter the music!