Day 2 June 15th, Cambridge City, Indiana

Day 2 June 15^th, Cambridge City, Indiana (my home town)

Wanda always gets up earlier than Ted. She reads the paper and has coffee. I join her and we talk and read and drink. There is the old and pleasant ritual of looking at all the sales notices and reading the local news and talking about local events and people. When Ted joins us, we eat and continue talking. Afterwards, I get cleaned up and head out for Greenfield, Indiana where the nursing home is located. It is about a 40-minute drive. I use to plan what I would say to my mother during these miles, but that is no longer necessary. Her memory has dimmed and her awareness of world outside her nursing home is so limited that we really do not have a conversation any more.

I arrive about 30 minutes before lunchtime so that I can go to her room and wheel her down to the dining room. I sign in at the front desk and get a lunch ticket charged to my mother's account. It is the one of the few things she can give now. Today, she is already in the dining room, so I go over and greet her. We have to reorganize the table so that I have a chair along with the other two women she always eats her meals with. She asks me if I have used her account to pay for lunch. I say “yes”. I start talking to her about my upcoming hike and the details about the next 3 days as I travel and make arrangements with my friends in Ithaca, New York who will be supporting me throughout the hike. She smiles and says, “that's nice”. I am not really sure how much she comprehends, but there is no to evaluate her memory. I already know its limitations. I stay a little longer than usual at the lunch table with her. Then I wheeler down to the bedroom. When we get there, her room mate waves at me and says “hi”. I give my mother a map of the trail and my planned itinerary so that my sister can mark off my progress and my mother will have some idea of where I am. My mother says to put them in the closet on the shelf for my sister to look at on her next visit. I go through the ritual of signing into my mother's logbook for visitors. Then I leave with what has become my usual sense of sadness after these visits. I use to reflect on past memories of my mother and the world we shared when she was younger and able to be more engaged mentally with the world around her. Although memory and communication can be unpredictable, the last time I visited, she related that before she married my dad there had been 5 other men who proposed to her.

I get into my car and drive away. I stop at the White Castle and get some sliders. I have memories of White Castle that goes back to high school. There was once when Ted, his twin brother, Jack Smith and I took a trip and bought a dozens of “burgers” to eat that night. The trip back to CC is the usual 40 minutes and while watching the familiar scenery, the sadness fades away. On the way back to Ted and Wanda's, I decide to drive through Cambridge. I often do this. I have said to others that there is a memory on each street corner. I drive by the filling station where the funeral home I grew up living in until I was 17 once stood. The old 1920's house was torn down after my dad sold the property to the Shell Oil Company. He then built a completely new funeral where we lived on the side of the funeral home rather than above the funeral business. Ted, his brothers Tom and Allen along with their dad built the new funeral home.

Ted, Wanda, and I go to the Mexican restaurant for dinner. Never in my wildest dreams as a kid would I have imagined a Mexican resurgent in the old filling station on Main Street. Then back then there I can remember only two restaurants in town, the Green Chicken and the Family Restaurant. To go to them was a real treat since we always ate our 3 meals at day at home – we ate punctually i.e. Breakfast was at 7:30 am, lunch was at 12 noon, and dinner at 5:30 pm, and heaven help you if you were 4 minutes late. Back at their house we have a beer and watch TV for a while before going to bed. Tomorrow I drive to Ithaca, N.Y. Where Gina and Patrick live. I worked, as a Ridgerunner, with them on NJ's 75 miles of the Appalachian Trail 6 years ago.

Day 3, June 16th, Ithaca, NY

Day 3 June 16^th  Ithaca, NY

My Garmin says that it will be a 10-hour drive to Ithaca. Getting on the interstate early like this, may allow me to get to Ithaca faster than the 10 hours. I alternate between listing to a talking book, listing to the radio, and driving in silence. The outside temperature starts out warm and by late afternoon, I am driving with the air conditioner cooling me off. I figure I will make up for comfort during the hike. I am anticipating that I will start out hiking in hot weather.

As I cross the NY state line, it is early in the afternoon. I get the inspiration that I can save some postage money by dropping off my bounce box and food box at the Kelly Lodge in Ellicottville, NY. I check the map and it looks feasible. I call the Kelly Lodge and introduce myself as Garth Fisher from Wisconsin, that I am going to hike the FLT, and that I plan to stay at the Lodge. I explain about my food box and she says she will be there all afternoon and evening. I head out cross-country to Ellicottville. Ellicottville has a couple of ski hills and is quite busy in the winter. I see the ski hills and realize that western NY is quite tall hills and valleys. I get into town and have to ask the locate of the Lodge. When I pull into the lodge I see a large driveway, a large 2-story house and a large apartment building. I go into the building and see numbered rooms. I check the place out – TV’s, videos, common kitchen and lodge, and a laundry. I see a phone on the wall that gives a phone number to call to get in touch with the main house. I dial and Tracy answers and invites me over. Tracy is an attractive young woman who manages the Lodge. She worked as a social worker for 15 years and returned to Ellicottville over a year ago. She grew up here and has family nearby. We sit in the big house dining room and talk about the seasonal nature of a ski resort town. I leave my food box and bounce box and give her an approximate arrival date.

I head east towards Ithaca. I am considering dropping off a food box at N. Hornell but it has gotten a little later in the afternoon so I decide to continue on to Ithaca. I do not want to get there too late. I call Gina and tell her my location and what time the Garmin says I will arrive.

Driving into Ithaca, I see a large complex of college buildings on the hill north of me. As I drive to Pat and Gina’s house I marvel at the steepness of the streets and notice that all the streets are lined with parked cars almost bumper to bumper. I wonder what it must be like in the winter with a deep snow. There does not appear to be enough room for a snowplow let alone anyplace to put the removed snow. The Garmin takes me to their home at the end of a dead end street.

It is nice to get out and walk. I am greeted warmly and go into the right hand side of their duplex. I immediately feel a t home. Their son, 6-year-old Drew, has toys on the floor and a hamster cage on the floor. Drew tells me they are hamster sitting for a friend who is out of town for a couple of weeks. Gina and Pat are veggans. We have a marvelous meal of veggie’s, bread, and fruit. After carrying in all the food boxes and storing them in the guest bedroom, we talk of the AT in NJ, and out individual travels over the years since then. They assure me that snow removal is not a problem.

We determine that with everyone’s schedule, that Gina and Drew will drive me to the trailhead on the Pennsylvania boarder on Friday morning the 18^th. This will give me a day to rest, get my gear organized, and go over my itinerary and the plans for the food drops. Gina tells me that tomorrow evening they are going to Julie’s for their once a week shared dinner and that I am welcome to participate. Hey, does a long distance hiker turn down a family meal???   Never !!!!!!  I go to sleep easily after a long day.

Day 4, June 17th, Ithaca, NY

Day 4, June 17^th    

Gina bought a fan for the window two days ago. It cooled the room down. The temperature is in the high 80’s with high humidity. The sun shines brightly through the two windows as the fan stirs the air. I look at all the food boxes and gear. Today is a day for planning and organizing. After breakfast, Gina and I talk about tomorrow. We will leave Ithaca about 9 am, which should get me at the trailhead around 12 noon. I plan to hike 7 miles tomorrow. I figure I can make 1 ½ to 2 miles per hour, which would get me to the Lean-To 5 pm. I spend the rest of the day lounging around, studying the maps, and packing my backpack.

In the evening we go to Julie and her family’s duplex a few blocks away. I carb-up and enjoy the variety form veggies, bread, and fruit. After we get home, I get out my hair cutter with the idea of taking off most of my hair. The cutter has not been used for a long time and needs to be taken apart and cleaned. I decide that my hair is not that long and figure that if I need to hitch hike, a clearly gray haired older man with a backpack is safe to pickup and give a ride. I go to bed with the fan on me, the windows open, and the curtains wide upon. Ahhhh Sleep!

Day 5, June 18th, Bivouac

Day 5, June 18^th    Bivouac

We all get up early and have a breakfast of potatoes pancakes, maple syrup, fruit, and coffee. I take my backpack out to the car. I show Gina how I have set up my food boxes and show her where I have put the addresses for each box. I also give her an envelope with $100 to cover the cost of postage.

I am leaving my car with Gina and Pat. Gina, Drew in his car seat, and I get into my car, and I start driving away to my journey. I stop at a gas station and fill up the car’s gas tank. I pull out and we are on the road for the next 3 hours. On the way, I see signs on the roadside identifying this as The Southern Tier, which means the southern half of western NY. The weather is minimal clouds, hot, mid-80’s and relative high humidity. We have to drop down into Penn. to get to the trailhead. I fill up the gas tank in the last town before the trailhead. I start driving out into the countryside. It seems like we may have gone too far so we stop and ask a man walking along the roadside if we had missed the trailhead. He says know that it is about ½ mile up the road. And, there it is, a small parking area on Penn. route 346, a sign saying North Country Trail and Finger Lakes Trail, and a clear foot path heading north.

We get out of the car, and I put my pack on for the “start the hike” picture. We say our good byes, and as I start up the hill, I see them drive away in my car. I am on my own now.

I have a black shirt because it was the only color the color the odor resistant Tramcar shirt came. My ventilated wide brimmed hat came from Walmart, the backpack is an Ospry Aether 70, the gaiters are OR knee length, the water bottles are Platypus 1 liter and 2 liter with a hose and bite valve, the short are zip leg nylon, the size 14 boots are a wide toe box from Keen, and the 6 ft. hiking poles are out of the woods.

I start into the woods following the familiar 2 x 6 in. white blazes as if I were hiking the Appalachian Trail once more. The trail is flat for a few hundred yards and then starts going up hill. I start up the hill and have numerous flashback pictures pop into my mind from the AT and the AT in NJ. For the past 9 years, I have had AT flashback pictures almost every day. Different sights, sounds and smells trigger the pictures, thoughts, and emotions. For a while, I my consciousness is absorbed in past hiking experiences. Gradually I am drawn back to the present as I begin to sweat very hard and my breathing becomes more labored. I have been on blood pressure medication for several years. When I first the medication any effort in the warm weather made me sweat very hard but that reaction has been dormant for years. I am not sure if it is the medication or just the heat, but I am losing water rapidly. I stop to rest and realize that my heart is beating rather fast as well. I start up again; I start hiking slowly and realize that my pack feels rather heavy compared to 45 minutes ago when I started into the woods. I only brought 2 liters of water figuring I would get to the Lean-To quick enough to avoid the weight of 2 additional liters. I also realize that I probably have only hiked a mile or so out of the 7 I plan to hike this afternoon. I start up a long hill and my breathing rapidly becomes labored and my heart is racing. I get the inner urge to “push through” the discomfort as I did when I was younger, but decide to slow down and pace myself better. Before I left Wisconsin I had a number of people tell me to be care during the hike. I even had two people tell me they had a “bad feeling” about the hike and advised me to stay home. I took the advise “to be careful” to heart, and I am applying it right now. The sweat is soaking my clothes and my hat.

I see a young man coming down the hill in front of me. When we get abreast, we stop and talk. Jeff is out for 3 days and is doing some advanced training before he goes on a 10-day backpack trip. He is headed down into Pennsylvania to a campground for the night. I tell him about my plan to do an end-to-end hike of the FLT. He wishes me well, and we head off in different directions. I try to pick up my pace and my body responds with heat/sweat and deep breathing. I slow down. I sip some water through my bite valve. I wipe the sweat from my forehead as I top the hill and see a little down grade ahead of me. I move a little faster. For years, I have always gone faster on the downhill “slide”, while the uphill “climb” has always been slower. Today, I pause often on the up hill climb and catch my breath and rest my legs. The downhill feels good, but as it always goes, “when there is a downhill slide, there always comes an up hill climb that follows”. I start up another hill and realize that I am taking single steps verses keeping up my momentum by taking striding steps. I retrieve the memory from my AT hike of the “stride” and try to put it into my muscles, but my muscles are too fatigued and too weak to make a stride. I keep clodding along up one hill after another. I feel more fatigued and thirsty. I drink more water and eat two fig-nutons. I burn the fig-nutons calories fast and feel fatigued again. It is getting later in the afternoon, and I am not making good mileage.

At 4:40 I come to a little creek with a bridge over it near Wolf Run Road. I look at the map and see that I have only come 4 miles. It is 3 more to the shelter. I consider the option of camping or pushing on to the shelter. At 1 mile and hour, I could get to the shelter around 7 or 7:30 pm. There will be enough evening sun light for it to be safe hiking. I cross the bridge and walk through some waist high grass and weeds. I go 100 years and hear all the voices from Wisconsin telling me to be careful. I hesitate for several minutes and then turn back, cross the bridge and drop the backpack.

Over the years I have developed somewhat of a pattern of what I do first when making camp. I pull out my small ground cloth of silicon-impregnated nylon and spread it out. Next is the unloading of the backpack putting items in different quadrants based on when they will be used. Next is setting up the tent, followed by getting water either from a spring or filtered from a creek. I have an Aqua Mira Frontier Pro for filtering water. It is a few oz. and says it is good for 50 gallons. I bring along a small bottle of white iodine as back up. Then I set the food aside and let the rice meal start soaking in the ¾ liter aluminum cook pot from Campmor. I blowup the air mattress and pillow then put them in the tent. I have decided to leave the tent fly off tonight since I know that there is no rain in the forecast. I hang the drying line and put my wet clothes on it. Then I go cleanup in the creek. By then the rice is ready to cut. I set up the Esbit stove and get a ½ oz. fuel pellet open. Setting it on the Esbit platform, I light it, put the pot on top, and set up the windscreen. Next I sort out what will go into the tent for the night and what will stay in the backpack. By then the food is hot. I sit on the bridge with a liter of water and eat my one hot meal for the day. After hanging the food bag high in a nearby tree, I go to bed. The stars are out and bright. There is a cooling breeze. It is 8 pm. I quickly fall asleep alone in the woods with the sound of the creek behind me, and the stars above me.

Day 6, June 19th, Beck Hollow Lean-To

Day 6  June 19^th Beck Hollow Lean-To

The birds start singing at 5 am or so. The sun rises around 6ish. I get up around 6:30 with the plan of starting the hiking day between 7:30 and 8:00. Before I crawl out of the tent, I stuff my 45-degree down sleeping bag into its stuff sack. Deflate the pillow and mattress before I pit them into their stuff sacks. I take my small tarp out of its zip lock and reach out of the tent to spread it out in front. Then I toss everything out onto the tarp. Now it is my turn. Once out I retrieve the food bag from the tree and then my clothes from the drying line. I take my med. and supplements while I eat breakfast of 2 cups of dry cereal with 3 tablespoons of dry milk and 2 tablespoons of brown sugar while I load up the backpack. I figure the pack weighs about 40 plus pounds with food and water. At 270 pounds that means my legs have to horse 310 pounds of dead weight up the hills and brake sufficiently going down hill to avoid going too fast.

With every thing packed, I cross the bridge once again and head into the weeds again. I start up the hill beyond the weeds. It is not long before I realize that I all of me hurts. My feet, knees, my non-surgical right hip (hurts with every step), my muscles, and my hands are cramping from gripping the walking sticks. It does not take long for the sweat to begin pouring out and soaking my clothes. There is no way I can hike fast. I go up and down several hills and reach a ridgeline following combined trails. The path is clearly worn down so in my fatigue I watch the path rather than the blazes. Eventually I realize that the white blazes are not on the trees in front of me, rather the blazes are red and yellow. The FLT must have turned sharply off the main path, and I missed it. I get the map out and attempt to figure out the various trails that criss-cross the area. It looks like it is too far to retrace my steps. I hear voices coming up the trail. I continue walking until we meet. They tell me that they are on a day hike. I ask if the crossed the FLT on their hike up the hill. They were not sure. I told them of my plan to do an end-to-end hike. They tell me if I continue down this trail I will come to a parking lot with their red SUV and that there was a large map beside the truck. They wished me well and I continue down the path. I become more aware of how sore my muscles are and how much my feet hurt. It is taking a great deal of effort to hike. I get to the parking lot, find the car, and find the map but the FLT is not clearly on it. I see cars passing on the road 2 or 300 hundred yards down the maintained road. I see a park maintained truck coming towards me. I flag it down and told him of my problem i.e. I was lost though I was sure I was in the general area of the FLT. He was not sure of the Flat’s path through the Allegany State Forest. He takes me to the park office where I fill my Plady’s and ask about bears. I am told that bears are a minimal problem currently. I take my map out and we consult with a senior ranger who tells us where to go to connect with a trailhead. We drive by the little park store and Ron asks me if I want to stop. I say no and have the feeling I have not earned any ice cream etc. Ron tells me that he has been around the Allegany Forest since he was a kid. His parents would come here to rent a cabin during the summer. I ask about the shelters and the springs. He said that years ago, people would come from the cities with their gallon jugs and fill them from the springs. But, an administrator in the city somewhere decided that there was a liability for the park if people got water from the springs. So, many of the springs were blocked up. We get to the trailhead, and I get out, thank him, and head up the hill. I have missed about 2 miles of the trail, and from the depths of my fatigue I feel thankful.

I hike slowly to the Lean-To. When I arrive, I am the only here so I set up shelter with my sleeping gear. I locate the spring and fill the Plady’s and then clean up myself. I am sitting at the picnic table writing in my journal when I hear voices coming up the path to the shelter. Gradually 8 boy scouts and 2 leaders come into the clearing headed towards me. The boys have backpacks that are off balance and overloaded for their size. The smallest boy has the most awkward and out of balance pack. I have seen this before with boy scouts when I worked in NJ on the AT.

I tell them that I can let them have the shelter because I have a tent. They have hammocks and tarps to string between trees. They set off to make camp. The littlest boy has the larges tarp – a big heavy-duty gray tarp. I start to warm my dinner, while they set up camp and start to cook their evening meal. I talk with the scout leaders about their hike. It is their yearly 50-mile hike, and they are finishing their second day. The coyotes are singing while the scout leaders are doing individual evaluations of the scout’s behavior. They tell me that they plan to break camp early and be on the trail by 6:30 am. I fall asleep before they are finished with the evaluations.