Thru-Hikers Are Not Through Yet

OK, so why do I like backpacking on the Appalachian trail in the Smoky Mountain National Park each spring? Because you never know who you will meet up there, but you can bet they will have a story. These are three of the five guys I spent my first night with at Davenport Shelter. I know them only by their trail names, which is the only way they all seem to know each other. Resin, on the left, is only 18 and wanting to experience the world before he starts college. The guy on the right is older than me and well educated. Rainfly, with the orange bandanna on his head and writing in the trail journal (see my blog dated April 22nd), is in his 40's, a high school drop-out. We slept on the wooden plank bunks in this shelter. I enjoyed talking with all 5 of the hikers and they loved me because I hiked uphill several miles with homemade brownies to share with them. I also gave extra food to two of the guys who were running low.
All of the backpackers who I meet at this time of the year are thru-hikers. These adventurous souls start in Georgia in early spring with the intent of walking more than 2000 miles until they come to the end of the trail in Maine. Every year several hundred hikers start but only 10% finish the entire trail. What I like about them is their attitude. I meet dozens of them in April, 200 miles into their trip, and they all still think that they are going to make it to Maine, or at least they express a lot of hope as they nurse blisters, sore backs, shoulders, hips and feet. They come in all sizes, shapes, ages, socio-economic backgrounds, American-born and foreign. Most are starting out alone but end up with a network of hiking friends all known to each other by their trail names. In the photo above are the first two women thru-hikers I met this year, HiLo and I-trod Along. They walk the same pace so they often walk together although they started in Georgia separately.


This is where I spent my second night, Cosby Knob shelter. There is always a spring for drinking water near the shelters. Here you can see two thru-hikers, Willow and Gentleman Jack, fetching water.


There are lots of chores to do when the day's hike is complete. These two women thru-hikers, Longwe Tru (an attorney) and Pickwick (a lab tech), are preparing dinner. They also are hiking alone. Actually Pickwick (with red bandanna) is not a thru-hiker. She has already hiked the entire Appalachian trail and is just doing a section of it this year.


The thru-hikers generally retire before dark. They make their own space within the confines of their sleeping bags to read, write in their personal journals, or sleep (toss and turn like a rotisserie many of them have told me). Willow, Pickwick, and I extend the day with a pajama party discussing gear, trail food, guidebooks, maps, and life histories. I could be friends with any of these women, I'm sure. You should know that Willow never backpacked before and she is 53 years old!
After I return home, I continue the journey by logging on to: trailjournals.com and looking for some of the hikers I have met who are submitting journals. This year I can follow Gentleman Jack and Longwe Tru. You can too. Just click on the link above, select Journals, and sort by trail name to find Gentleman Jack and Longwe Tru. Carefull though, there are hundreds of hikers that might drag you along and you could end up hiking the Appalachian Trail yourself someday!

Backpack Birthday

Backpackers Journal on the Appalachian Trail, April 5, 2008, Davenport Gap shelter. Click on the photo to enlarge it and read some of the entries from the thru-hikers who are backpacking over 2000 miles this year from Georgia to Maine.



I think it was for my 50th birthday when I did my first solo backpacking trip. Now I love it and try to get myself to the Smokies every April to celebrate my birthday. Here's some photos from this years trip.


It's a steep climb getting up to the Appalachian Trail in Smoky Mountain National Park.


Lots of streams to cross. This is a small one but a good place for a break (not a leg) and sip of cold water.


Don't you agree this is a great birthday gift? In my next blog entry you will discover why I really love to get up on the Appalachian Trail. Happy Trails!

Beach Blast 5K Run

Excuse the tilt, but I hurriedly shot this sunrise photo while riding my bicycle to the race start.


From Cayo Costa on the Gulf coast to St. Augustine on the Atlantic coast, we have found another Florida State Park in which to tent camp and call home for a few days. We were signing in at the ranger station at Anastasia State Park when I noticed a flyer about the upcoming Beach Blast. Students enrolled in the sporting facilities and events class at Flagler College in St. Augustine organize this event each spring. It includes a volleyball tournament, surfing contest, and a 5K run. I haven't run 3 miles since last summer's triathlon, but when I signed up I was hoping this Beach Blast 5K would kick-start my training.


This is the race course...out and back on the beach (3 miles total). Look at that storm moving in. It was a beach (you know what I mean) running against 15 mph winds.



I watched out for this young guy when I heard his name was Devin, my son's name. He gave me a big smile and wave when he passed me on the course but fell behind later. I cheered him in as if he was my own son. His mom took this photo after the race and vowed to start a fitness program herself.

Did you read the inscription on the mug in the top photo? At the awards ceremony, the students called me up as the recipient of the 2nd place female, age 50 and over award. I remember coming in behind a woman in a green shirt at the finish, but they didn't call her up for 1st place. The students awarded some other woman 1st place. We asked the students what our finish times were but they said those got all mixed up (papers were blowing around in the stiff wind). So the 3 of us ladies had to figure out our placement. Remembering our approximate times on the clock at the finish line, we determined I should have been placed third. We told the students, and they gave me a different mug. The prize mugs were wrapped in cellophane with pretty ribbons. When I unwrapped mine back at camp, the inscription read "2nd Place Female, Age Group: 18 & Under." Bless those kids!

Cayo Costa: Playing Slow

Some of the things I have enjoyed the most about staying on the island of Cayo Costa for the last month is the time to explore, learn, and create.
I had fun with my little camera. It fits in my pocket and it is not too expensive so I don't worry about taking it on the bicycle or kayak. Photography slows my pace so that I notice more about the world around me. Even if I don't know what something is, I may later look it up in a guidebook. If I do know what the subject is, I can look at it from different angles to study its form, texture, color, reflection, and how it all changes with the ambient light.

Can you figure out what I captured in the photo above?
I found this stingray washed up on the beach. There was still a gleam in its eye, probably a recent death.


This sea horse washed up too. It was still moving a little, but could not swim upright as it should. Isn't it an unusual form? Look at its tubular snout and prehensile tail. I used my hand as a scale and released the sea horse after taking this photo (another advantage of a tiny camera is that you can shoot with one hand).



One of the best things about Cayo Costa is the ability to move through nine different natural communities within a days walk. These prickly pear cacti are at home 300 feet from the Gulf shore.
I do have trouble capturing wildlife and birds with the small lens on my camera. I did get lucky one day (see the photo below). Look at the teeth on this strange tropical bird.



Not really. It's just a crab's claw. I don't mean " just". It's awesome what nature has designed.


One thing I didn't enjoy so much was sitting with the computer trying to install photos on this blog. You can see me at the "desk" behind the ranger station. The outdoor office was a breath of fresh air...but the slooooow connection really put me on island time, warping the logic of even attempting to connect with technology.

It has been a fast month playing at Cayo Costa. It's time to go. So long Cayo Costa! Maybe I'll come back and play, real slow, again next year.

Cayo Costa: Volunteer Work

Volunteering at Cayo Costa State Park in Florida for a month is fun and varied. It does not seem like work when I do things out of the routine of normal work and totally at will. Usually we were able to select our jobs. Above I am welcoming visitors to the island before I drive them from the dock to the beach on the tram.


Sometimes we pick up litter; by foot, bicycle, or as above, by kayak.


We help out with trail maintenance and sometimes clean cabins and bathrooms.



I enjoyed helping the state park post signs and rope off acres of beach to protect bird nesting areas. Above, Tom, Kathy, and I are on our way to a remote beach to help out. Some of the best parts about volunteering are all the wonderful people you meet and how much the staff appreciate the help.

Cayo Costa: Sea Wrack

Sea wrack. What the heck is sea wrack? Most beach goers avoid it like the toxic red tide. Sunbathers and shell collectors complain that it is smelly and want to see it raked up and removed.

That annoying scraggly line of debris along the high-tide mark, sea wrack, is an accumulation of seagrasses, algae, and animal remains which lie baking in the sun. This pile-up is a prime feeding place, alive with swarms of tiny amphipods, insects and larvae feeding on the weeds and stranded animal remains. Crabs and shorebirds forage here. I forage in the sea wrack too.

Yea, yea. I could walk the beach here at Cayo Costa, one of the best for shelling in the world, and find angel wings, sand dollars, coquinas and a godzillian more shells in a short walk, but look what I found in less than 10 linear feet of sea wrack. I'm not going to take them home and display them on a shelf or put them in a little basket in the bathroom. No, no. My little treasures are not going to collect dust. They will though, collect sun rays and sea spray until they return to dust.



This is a 10 inch conch shell encrusted with barnacles and nearly completely covered with something that looks like a white soft coral.


Isn't this color beautiful? I did some work with a naturalist who collects algae like this to make colorful sea art at home.


This coil looks like a snake skin. You can find dozens of these whelk (a gastropod similar to conch) egg cases on the beach or shores of the lagoon.

Next time you are at the beach, take a closer look through the sea urchins (below) and sea wrack. You'll find many fascinating things and can observe a world of activity within the debris. And it doesn't smell as bad as dumpster diving, I promise.

Cayo Costa: Kitchen Entomology

Anyone who loves bugs would have a field day in my camp kitchen. Look at the bug in the photo above flickering around in the corner of my kitchen tent. It looks big enough to have been banded by a biologist tracking its whereabouts. I'm not going to pretend to know what most of these visitors are, but they make it easy to find them.
So fellow naturalists, come to my camp kitchen. No walking, netting, or trapping needed. Just have a seat in my Cayo Costa kitchen. Take your shoes off, put your feet up, and watch what comes.


This 4 inch millipede gave me the creeps. It annoyed me even further when it pooped on my chair (or maybe it was annoyed that I wanted to use my chair and released its defense...foul smelling secretions.)
This chair is not the toilet, bud.



Look at this guy eyeing my bicycle through the screening. It made as much noise as gale-swept palm fronds in its attempt to get out.


These ants found my double-bagged homemade granola. I poured the granola on a white plate and shook it like an earthquake. The ants came marching out and I began munching again.
(hey, Cayo Costa doesn't have provisions, and I like my granola!)



Alright, who left the crumbs on my kitchen chair? At least these Palmetto bugs (that's what the Floridians call them...they hate to admit that they are just cockroaches) seem to be keeping the ants away. Damn, don't cockroaches just frequent dirty kitchens? Oh yea, my whole floor is dirt.

Well anyway, would you like to come to dinner next Tuesday?
And remind me to tell you to check your shoes before you put them on again. When I lifted mine, a lizard scurried out.