Reflections on Vermont

Today - 15th August - we crossed the bridge over the Connecticut River and entered New Hampshire. With some excitement I might add, as this is the last leg of our journey with less than 450 miles to walk.

So it is time to take stock - first - how are we coping? Digby's knee is a perennial problem and he has been taking 'Ibubrophen' on a daily basis which reduces the swelling and acts as a painkiller. Despite the knee issue, we have been making good time, averaging over 100 miles a week and keeping to our schedule.

What about Vermont?
It is meant to be the muddy state, but we have had virtually no rain for the nine days that we hiked thru it. It is not as 'misty' or 'looming' as Massachussetts with its huge granite gorges and moss covered ravines. But it has a lot to offer and we enjoyed our time here. It made us think of Victoria with the climate that we had - crisp temperatures for walking of about 25C - just perfect.

The highlights

• Discovering 'moose poo' on the trail - we have yet to see a moose.
• Staying at the Bromley Sun Lodge in the Bromley Ski Resort, and watching Americans at play.
• Meeting four different work crews on the trail - one an all women team - improving the conditions of the trail.
• Walking with a 'group' - Scatters and Stucco, our warrior princesses, as well as Deetz, Powerpak, Ugly Tuna, Boss, and Miles - and enjoying the interactions over a 5 day period as we got to know them.
• My first swim in a wild river - and camping right next to the river.
• Climbing Mt Killington, at just over 4,000' the second highest peak in Vermont. A beautiful day and great views to be had.
• Staying at the Inn on the Long Trail - a hiker inn with an Irish pub attached. Guinness on tap so Digby was in seventh heaven.
• Meeting the pet pig at Mountain Meadows Lodge and giving it a good scratch behind the ears.
• Finding our first Vermont trail magic - two cold cokes left in the river for us.

Impressions from Pennsylvania

Everyone had warned us about the rocks - so we thought we were prepared. But we weren't. Finding your way through boulder fields hour after hour in temperatures above 100 degrees F gives a new dimension to hiking. I get addicted to Gatorade, as we try and keep the electrolytes up. Many of the springs listed have dried up. Some trail angels leave gallon containers by the road crossings, but these are often empty when we pass through.

I decided that nobody would actually hike through Pennsylvania for the fun of it. Then we arrive at Lehigh Gap......The climb out of Lehigh Gap - what a trail gem this is. This is a rockclimb, an exhilarating, amazing, absolutely fantastic rockclimb. Walking Sticks go into the pack. I use my hands to get up over the cliffs. On the way up we are caught by Stucco and Scatters and One Life who we follow for the rest of the day. Sourdough also walks in this group. We take an hour to complete the climb to the ridge. Then we enter a 'superfund' site - a restoration of the mountain denuded by zinc smelter air pollution, caused by corporate irresponsibility, and now being fixed with taxpayers funds. The tree growth is amazing.

The B&B from Hell

We stayed one night in a small B&B, which will be forever remembered as our US Fawlty Towers experience.

I won't go on about it but I do have to record that the owner kept us waiting one hour and 15 minutes before we could access our room, because she was too busy doing other things. We were not allowed to take our packs into our room as there were too many 'valuable antiques' that we might damage, so they had to be left on the ground floor by the back door. The antique junk in the rooms - lanterns, and jug s- covered every available surface - there was even a chamber pot on the floor.  The shared bathroom down the hall from our room did not have a shower - if we wanted a shower we had to descend to the basement and shower in a corner on an old concrete slab. I made sure I kept my crocs on my feet.

And for this we paid $84 - an outrageous price. As good Australians we just shut up and paid it. The cook Herman felt sorry for us and poured us cokes from the bar, but they were flat. Four cokes later and there were still no bubbles. We just kept drinking. We had walked 18 miles in temperatures over 100 degrees F, and taken 10 hours to get there, and were very hot, tired and dehydrated. Then he brought us slices of watermelon and we devoured those while we waited, and waited.

The B&B welcome is an important part of the experience, and I won't forget this welcome for some time.

Today we leave New Jersey

Five days and we have walked through New Jersey and entered New York. Seems a bit weird that it went so quickly - less than 100 miles. What impressions do we take with us? Firstly - the bears in NJ. There are lots and they ain't scared of hikers. Eight hikers meeting at the Steakhouse in Branchville, just off the trail, all have a bear story to tell. Macguyver tells her story of making a peanut butter sandwich for breakfast, looking up to find a bear swipe the sandwich. We see one large bear which takes our tally to 11 for the trip.

The rocks are not as bad as Pennsylvania but they are still memorable, especially as we had relaxed into thinking that we had escaped the rocks, only to find the ridge from hell on the NewYork/NewJersey border.

One of the main memories will be the 'mayor's house', a place to stay for hikers in the little town of Unionsville which is only half a mile from the trail. We walked into town, and the general store gave us the directions - take the street behind the pub and then the first left and the second house on the left. It felt a bit strange to us wandering down the street hoping that we find the right house. Sure enough as we arrive at the second house, there is a white blaze on the lamp post out the front and somebody sees us and waves us in. Twenty hikers stay that night - 8 in a bunk room, and the rest camped on the back lawn. For a donation of $10, Butch and Bill cook us dinner and breakfast. Bill is 81 years old and runs the kitchen - he serves 20 hikers with a cheese omelette, fried potatoes, two chippalata sausages and a muffin, with jam. No fuss, he just keeps cooking and we keep eating.

We are now walking around 17 miles a day - sometimes up to 20 if the country is easy, and we have caught up to new hikers that we haven't met before - Sourdough, a naturalist from Alaska, Masterchief, a retired soldier, Sweet Tea, an older woman from Alabama, and Macguyver, a psychologist. A few times in the last week we have crossed paths with two awesome young women hiking the trail - I think of them as 'warrior princesses' - Stucco and Scatters. They are smart, strong, carry big packs and walk fast.  We keep catching them, because they take time off to visit friends in towns along the way, while Digby and I just trundle on.

States fly by

Two days ago Digby and I left Virginia after walking 550 miles across that state in 5 weeks. Yesterday we walked into West Virginia. Today we entered Maryland. Tomorrow we enter Pensylvania. Fast heh? There is a race on the trail called the four state challenge which is held each year to see who can complete the four states in the best time. We are content to trundle along.

We reach the half-way mark - Harpers Ferry

This is an emotional moment. We have clocked more than 1000 miles and walk into Harpers Ferry - the town considered to be the 'emotional' half way mark, though the actual half way mark changes each year as new zig zags are added and the distance increases a little bit.

We cross the Shenendoah River on the bridge with four lanes of cars zinging past us and climb through the narrow pathway to emerge in an old part of the town where the Appalachian Train Conservancy has their headquarters. Excitement mounts as we race two young males to be the first hikers to emerge from the forest that day.

There are some spectators cheering us on as we come down the narrow lane. Lo and behold - it is Stickbuilt, Sandy and Paradise who have actually come early to wait for us to arrive. In a strange country, with few contacts we suddenly feel like we have 'family' watching out for us. We met Stickbuilt on the trail over 2 months ago - he knows us by our trail names of Tripper and Wizard from OZ. We find it hard to adapt to call him by his real name - Dave. Paradise is a male in his forties who has walked with us in the first few weeks and then rejoins us to walk part of the Shenendoahs. His real name is Nick. Paradise and Stickbuilt have both suffered injuries to force them to pull out of the hike, in the short term - both are hoping to return and may possibly walk with us when they return.

Our welcoming committee know what thru-hikers need - they have brough an esky full of ice with cans of soft drink and beer. Before Digby does anything else he drinks a beer. I sort through the soft drinks and select a can with the most calories. We have walked for the last 10 days without a break, averaging 15 miles a day in temperatures above 90 degrees F or 35 celsius.

AT the headquarters of the ATC we are processed and have our picture taken in front of the office sign. These photos go into the official photo album - we are number 485 to come through as thru hikers heading north. We browse the photo album, looking for faces that we recognise of people who have passed us - who has made it - who has disappeared and dropped out? Thousands have dropped out before the half way mark. Others have appeared ahead of us, who we know should still be behind us - they have 'yellow blazed' which means hitched a ride on the road and jumped ahead. We are called 'purists' - we are walking every step of the way with no shortcuts. There are few purists on the trail.

Our photo shows how skinny we are. Later we weigh ourselves on Stickbuilt and Sandy's scales and discover that we are both the lightest in living memory. Digby is starting to look like a WW2 prisoner of war with ribs and ribcage very prominent. For me - I now have a real waist and my bottom has disappeared, but the fat layer is still hanging on. The previous day for lunch I had drunk two cans of soft drink and ate a pint of vanilla flavoured icecream - and walked 10 miles and climbed 4,000 ft from the sugar hit!

US Men Do Not Wear Budgie Smugglers

Digby wears 'jocks' - male bikini knickers. He needs new ones after 3 months on the trail. In a small town at about the 850 mile mark he cannot find any replacements in the 'Dollar General' store (like Target) so he buys some ladies bikini knickers instead. He needs underpants which are low cut and do not interfere with the pack waist belt. It is not a pleasant sight - imagine a male trying to squash all his gear into a space designed for girls. He walks in ladies underwear for 150 miles and discovers it to be all right at a pinch but not really comfortable.

We arrive in Washington DC and go on a shopping spree - and three department stores later, we finally find a small rack of Calvin Klein hipster briefs. American males do not wear hipster briefs - they wear daggy high waisted and long legged boxers. Rack after rack of male underpants with short legs, long legs, and thick elastic waist bands, but none with no legs. The burning question - why don't American males wear budgie smugglers? - even Tony Abbott wears budgie smugglers so it can't be an old man conservative thing. I don't have the answer, but watch this space for further updates as I conduct my research interviews with US males walking the trail.