AT Flip Flop Day 14: Bail Out

Port Clinton, PA 1220 to Hawk Mountain Road 1235.1 (15.1 miles, 209.7 total miles)

The bed that Ray and Michele gave me to use last night was so comfortable, and even king sized, that all I wanted to do was lay in it and feel comfy and sprawl out and not even fall asleep because I didn’t want to wake up and have it be over.

Of course I fell asleep quickly, because I was so tired from the night before, and in the middle of the night tossed and turned a little bit when my feet started to hurt, that has been a pretty regular thing every night. However yesterday was the first day I didn’t take any painkillers in a few days, and it was also my biggest day, so that was an accomplishment.

In the morning, Michele made me an amazing three egg and cheese breakfast sandwich on a bun, with a bunch of sausage links as well. Michele refused to let me give her money for food or anything, but did let me give her a big hug. I couldn’t thank her and Ray enough for what they have done for me.I had breakfast in the car while Ray drove me back to the trail on his way to work. He even bought me an iced coffee from McDonald’s as well.

There was a really big climb out of Port Clinton, and my food bag was very heavy. I was definitely dragging all morning, even though I slept in an amazing bed I hadn’t slept as long as I really needed to, because I had insisted on doing so many miles yesterday. I promised myself a short day though, knowing I needed it.

Up on the ridge, there are a lot of really pretty grassy spots all around, that were just begging for me to lay in them and nap. However I kept going, and at the first spring after 3 miles I collected some water and kept moving.

The trail was full of ups and downs today, and at the next down I collected a little more water, and realized I had lost the O-ring out of my water filter. It was all right because I had another one in my bag ready to go, but I knew I must’ve dropped it by accident.

6 miles in I stopped for lunch at the Windsor Furnace Shelter. It was only about .1 off the trail, and there was no one else there. I had seen Red Squirrel walking into the woods when I pulled up with Ray in the morning, but I knew most hikers were going into Hamburg today.

I considered doing a nearo and only hiking the 6 miles that it took to get to the shelter, but I looked ahead and realized the Eckville Shelter was only another six ahead. It was closer than I had thought when I checked before. I was going slow, but it would be easier terrain (I thought) than earlier in the day, the shelter had many more amenities, and it was even located near Hawk Mountain which is a huge raptor sanctuary in the country.

I figured I would give myself a long lunch break though, and maybe try to close my eyes for a bit if I could. I ate the leftover turkey burgers that Ray and Michele wrapped up for me with a couple slices of cheese and tortillas. I also had an apple I had bought the day before, and it was pure trail gourmet for lunch.

A hiker came up after about an hour, another flip flopper who introduced himself as Updog. We talked a bunch, and he has a really good sense of humor. I saw a really cool woodpecker that was just tearing up a tree nearby, and there were birds flitting in and out of the shelter rafters for a while.

After lunch, we hiked out and did some of the next steep incline together. I let Updog pass ahead, though, and saw him again at Pulpit Rock, which had a nice view. The trail had become very rocky, with lots of big boulders, and it went around like that to Pinnacle Rock as well.

Somewhere between the two views, I realized that my original read of the mileage to the shelter had been right. Even though I’d already done 2.4 from the lunch spot, I was still 6.7 miles away from the Eckville shelter. It was a very demotivating moment. I hadn’t gotten enough sleep in the last two days and had gone hard on the mileage the last week as well. My body needed rest to recover and repair. I had also been taking a leisurely pace as I hiked, thinking I had time to spare.

I resigned myself to making the extra miles to the shelter, but I knew there were a couple tent sites I could bail out at if needed. I was a mile or two in when I heard back from Turtle, who I’d texted to check in with earlier in the day. She said there was going to be some significant weather that evening and the next day and if I could get to shelter I should.

I pushed on, hoping against hope there would be a bunk available in the shelter. I was going to be getting in late, again, and had a feeling I was due to come up on another little bubble of hikers soon.

I had been noticing that was happening. I didn’t expect to be passing people, but either I passed them, or some people hiked ahead. No one was at my pace exactly, so I wasn’t seeing all the same faces all the time. Then I’d catch up to little groups here and there.

I was also worried about being in an enclosed shelter again with too many people, like at 501. I really needed rest and didn’t think I was up for another night of snored echoing all around me and the humidity of so many people packed in an enclosed space.

When I had 3.5 miles to go, I ran into a former thru hiker from 2017, Pippin, who was hiking with a woman to Pinnacle. They were around my age or a little younger, and both super sweet and full of positivity. They gave me a beer and an apple. Wonderful trail magic, and they energized me for a bit down the trail.

Eventually, about 2 miles out from the shelter, I rapidly ran out of steam. My ankles hurt and my right knee particularly, from all the rocks and downhills of the last two days. I had been pushing hard without enough recovery in between, and it was catching up to me, as I knew it would. It was frustrating that I had tried to take a shorter day and because the guide app was wrong I was pushing myself again.

I saw one other male hiker who I let pass me on the way to the shelter. He weaved along the trail ahead of me, and I wasn’t sure if that was an intentional hiking style or not. Still, he was faster than me, and disappeared over the ridge ahead.

It was mostly downhill to the shelter, but I was toast, and finally made it down the .2 road walk there by about 7:00. I saw Updog and said “About that 6 miles from the last shelter, huh?” We both had to laugh a little at what happened.

He’d already been there an hour, I just could not keep up today. He informed me that the shelter was full, though. I knew the ground was an option, so I went to check it out.

It was a small, enclosed space and the concrete floor was uneven and not very roomy. I knew it was going to start raining at 4am and continue through the day, and I had hiked the extra miles specifically so I didn’t have to be in my tent for it. I’m okay being rained on, but where I was physically and mentally right then, it wasn’t ideal.

I walked back out to the picnic table, and put my head in my hands. In that moment, I really thought I might cry. There were too many things that were out of my control, and I was almost dizzy from exhausted hiking along the last two days.

I reviewed my options. Neither sleeping on the floor or in my tent seemed doable to get my body and mind back where they needed to be. I looked up Airbnb’s and Lyfts but that would be about $400 due to where I was, unless I started digging in and tried to arrange shuttles and hostels somehow that late in the day.

Then I let myself think of Ray and Michele, who had generously offered me another evening in their home the day before. I looked up on my maps, and I was still the same distance time-wise from them by car then I was that morning. I had hiked 15 miles, but had only traveled 3 miles by car.

I had to suck up my pride, though. My competitive spirit that I have to be the strongest hiker in the world. My resistance to asking for help. My difficulty in admitting any vulnerability in myself. My deep fear that if I give myself any leniency or moderation in this hike my self-discipline will go out the window and I will fail. My fear of imposing or not being good enough to receive the help I want to ask for.

All the things that plague me in “normal” life, that become amplified out on the trail, where life is much more bare bones and stripped to the essentials. Could I ask for help? Could I admit I can’t do it all, and a little defeat doesn’t need to mean a big defeat? Could I find balance?

I am happy to say I tried to overcome those negative thought patterns and called the one lifeline I have here in this part of the trail. Ray immediately asked if I was okay, and he and Michele did not hesitate in telling me he would come pick me up and that it was no trouble at all.

I’m sure it was better off for everyone, as when the shelter caretaker came outside, he decided to loudly mention the guy who got the last bunk was reading a book, while most hikers have their noses buried in their phones at the shelter, as he gestured at me.

I have a lot of thoughts about that, which include that fact that I was working on a blog which is actually creating something, he has a charging outlet set up at the shelter for the hikers to use, just about everyone’s guide book is on their phone, and we spend days in the woods and want to connect with loved ones. Also, books weigh half a pound or more, and a phone can hold a great quantity of both ebook and audiobooks, but I digress.

Guess I needed to vent that for a second. I appreciate the work he does maintaining the shelter, but I didn’t think that was a necessary thing to say right then. It confirmed to me I had made the right decision to leave that shelter.

While I waited for Ray, I chatted with Updog about various aspects of flip flopping. I also spoke with a thru hiker named Daddy Long Legs, who was working on his 4th(!) completed thru hike of the AT. He confirmed what LB had told me earlier in the day, that the next miles after Eckville get difficult and very rocky. A zero day was beginning to sound like a solid option.

Ray pulled up shortly after, and he whisked me away back to his home, where Michele and the dogs had very warm greetings for me. Thanking them repeatedly, I was treated to another hot shower, clean clothes, dinner, a drink, and lots of great conversation. They invited me to take a zero at their house, where they both work from home tomorrow.

Michele was very encouraging, and I reflected on how things hit a little different when you are solo hiking. Before, I hiked just about every mile with my prior partner. When things got difficult, we could turn to each other and say, how do we handle this. Now it’s just me at the moment, making independent decisions, carrying all my own gear, dealing with the good and the bad as they come.

I don’t believe anyone can hike this trail truly alone, though. No matter what, you have to rely on the kindness of people. Whether it a ride into town to resupply, or the type of sheer generosity of Michele and Ray opening their home to a hiker in need, no one is an island on this trail. It just isn’t possible. The moral boost of a beer and an apple at a low point. Whatever gets you to the next mile.

I have to learn balance. Last time I had very little self-discipline, this time it seems I might have too much. I’m afraid of failing, but I will not succeed if I don’t learn moderation in how I approach this. I am proud I’ve hiked 210 miles in two weeks, but it wasn’t by any means necessary to hike quite that much right off the rip.

So although it feels “wrong” in my mind right now to take a day off trail to rest and reset, I would be crazy not to. Most zero days involve costly expenses of buying two nights at a motel or hostel and all the town food that goes with it. I’ve been offered such a gift of wonderful resources and company to be able to have a rest and a “mental reset” as Michele put it, without breaking my budget. If I was to turn my nose up at that because I think I know better and that miles are the most important thing, those types of gifts won’t come around again.

For me, the trail isn’t meant to be a big party anymore, but that doesn’t mean it has to turn into some joyless, soul-sucking grind. I’ve had a wonderful time so far, but it’s time to step off the throttle a bit, physically and mentally, and give my body and mind the rest they deserve. The trail will still be there after tomorrow, ready for me to hike.