The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. -Lao Tzu

Once again it has been a long while since I have dared put my ongoing journey into the weak vessel that is written language. Photography is a better method of sharing for me, but sometimes it too does not relay what needs to be relayed. Anyhoo, as happens when time passes, much change has come into my life. Paths past have been left and/or revisited, while paths future still live in the nebulous land called Possibility. Companions have moved on with their own journeys, which for many now means a separation of ways … though our paths may cross again. Such is the wonder of the land that I once again am heading towards.

Though I did not complete the Appalachian Trail as a Through-Hiker, there is no doubt that it has changed not only my view of life, but how I live it. The experiences I had there and around it; the people who I met on it … the journey so far has helped shape who I am becoming and where my next steps will take me. The irony of this adventure is that much of the journey has me staying put in one place for indeterminate lengths of time. Right now I am back at what I guess I can call my home base, the “attic” of my mom’s house. While here I need to start repairing some of the inadvertent damage my exploration of parts unknown caused, nurturing the seeds that have been planted along the way, and regrouping for the next part of The Grand Adventure.

One of the potential seeds planted would have me joining a fellow explorer, known on the A.T. as EZ Rock, as he does a documentary in Colorado. This is a photographer’s dream, and I seem to more and more be calling myself a photographer. But there are a few stumbling blocks (as usual) that I need to … well … stumble through.

The biggest challenges are a lack of functional equipment, and the transport of my newest hiking partner, none other than the famous(?) Brown Dog. To that end, a new gofundme campaign has been started:

//funds.gofundme.com/Widgetflex.swf

More importantly, since four-legged companions seem to be discriminated against in the travel world, I need a method of getting myself and Brown Dog from eastern Massachusetts to somewhere in Colorado. Volunteers, suggestions, and/or donations would be most welcome!! Spread the word and maybe I’ll have a chance. And since I know that four-legged companions get way more attention than scruffy middle-aged men, here is a cute pic of Brown Dog:

The post Walking on first appeared on thrumyeyes.

Hmmmm

It started off as an adventure. Gradually it morphed in walk-about. Then it shifted into a whole new realm … maybe the world of dreams. But as a I ramble about this, I am clarifying for myself. What I am doing is simply LIVING LIFE.

Finally.

That said, part of the lack of posting about life recently is being too busy living it, part of it is living said life in the woods far from any communications capabilities other than smoke signals. Fortunately, I am momentarily pretending to be civilized, so time for a bit of an update. Team Idiot finally escaped the dangerous jungles of suburban Cleveland, managing to make it all the way to the safety of the Spiritual Way Station known as Damascus, VA. Unfortunately, the spiritual world is both of light AND shadow. It seems this past winter shadow seeped in deep, and instead of the bright greeting we were hoping to find, we were instead met with the worst of the human spirit. Apparently free and happy spirits are not welcome to the spiteful spirits that actually try to dominate this otherwise beautiful haven.

But I digress. Back in part of the heart of Appalachia, the team intends to hang here until the Bacchanalian Fest known as Trail Days is over, then decide where to wander to next. Gonna find a place to sit down, do artsy stuff, sell said artsy stuff, hopefully rendering financial issues less of a P.I.T.A.  I will personally try to actually finish one or three of the ever growing number of projects I keep creating.

That was an awful lot of words to get to my ultimate point, that I have gone and started yet ANOTHER blog, kind of spin-off from this blog. Our newest member of Team Idiot is Brown Dog, who has left the city for the first time to explore the wonders of nature. It’s a work in project, but check out …

THE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF BROWN DOG.

The post This time I took a left first appeared on thrumyeyes.

Before I set foot on the Appalachian Trail, it was pretty clear that there would be a lot of climbing involved … clear to anyone who has ever seen a mountain. It was less clear to the middle-aged couch potato who still thought of himself as 18 how STRENUOUS and painful some of that climbing would be. But without fail, reaching the summit always carried a sense of achievement; frequently a sense of awe; and all too often a sense of severe pain and hunger. Yet we continued on, sometimes because we really had no choice if we wanted continued survival, but usually simply because that is what we do. But as I have no doubt mentioned many times before, my life is governed by irony. Little did I know that the pains and rewards of that first part of my current journey … a mere hiking a few hundred miles through varying terrain with a house on my back … PALED in comparison to what came next.

Without getting into TOO much detail (after all that is what my best-selling yet to be book is about), suffice to say that the emotional and spiritual part of this journey that has defined the last couple of months is to the hike like The Incredible Hulk is to the kid that always got stuffed into the locker. If you want a less S.A.T.-ish metaphor, or better yet clear speech, it was downright HARD! I reached the depths of despair … not even being able to envision continuing another moment … yet still continued. I found moments of pure nirvanic bliss, so content that if my life stopped at THAT moment, I would know the Question to the Ultimate Answer … yet still continued. I did manly battle with inner demons galore, with many a scar … yet still continued.

And here I am, at the proverbial peak … wondering what is next.

Now I can finally start this blog post. Since I spent so much time in prepping you, I’ll shorten things up a bit. What is next is to continue climbing. No more path to WALK on? Guess I am going to have to fly now. So my new life plan in one long-winded set of words: yet another website (which is also a business) up and running; one old website in the process of being revamped and also turned into a business; two more websites to be upgraded to join the team; all to fall under one shell that also will require a website; three books to finish writing; going to massage school to round off the plan; all this with no steady place to live and no active income yet.

I think I got it all.

Stay tuned folks, it is really starting to get interesting now!!

The post What comes after the summit? first appeared on thrumyeyes.

Being the excellent planner that I am not, I checked routes on Google. To the bar; from THAT bar to “MY” bar … er … um … office. Filled out an online application, got an email saying come in for a talk, and the process was started. Of course in my usual perfect timing, this day it decided to snow. Oh well. Walking in a light snow can actually be quite refreshing. I walked to he potential job site, actually FOUND it with only slight difficulty, had my ten minute canned interview (stay tuned for results), then began the walk to the office to get some REAL work done.

Pause for sarcastic laughter.

It is one of the many ironies that govern my life that the more “civilized” and area is, the less capable I am of navigating it. Put me in the woods, and I will rarely get lost. Put me in something man-made, like say a city or a mall, and I will be lost for hours. I am glad (?) to say yesterday was no different. I apparently totally misread the map for my return journey. Add to that the lowering temperature, the increasing snow, and my tendency to go into the “zone” when conditions become less than comfortable, in no time I was … completely unsure where I was.

I am one who travels by landmarks. Like trees and rocks. Stock buildings, highways and advertising signs completely baffle me, especially when they keep repeating themselves. After a few, “I’ll turn here, it is bound to take me somewhere,” mishaps, I finally ended up somewhere that there was potential for warmth and better yet … directions. I shed what remained of my pride and … dun dun dun … asked. I may be remembering incorrectly at this point, but I am pretty sure the answer was, “You are in the wrong state.”

Finally I figured out where I needed to be, roughly 5 miles That-a-way. Fortunately it was now getting darker, colder, and snowier, ensuring I didn’t settle down in someone’s yard for a nap. So after a walking only about nine miles out of my way, I finally made it to the “office”, I stayed long enough to thaw out before I skied back to my room to crash for the night.

So basically I walked roughly 13 miles and got slightly hypothermic for a ten minute interview for a job I may or may not get. All in all a rather productive day.

The post Return of a footsore Idiot first appeared on thrumyeyes.

I have yet to find the answer to that question. I think it is a false assumption that home describes a precise place. It is becoming more and more apparent that home is really more of a state of mind. I have lived in many places, some quite comfortable, others barely a comfortable rock on soggy grass. I have occupied the same location for years at a time, or found myself relocating on a daily basis.

Yet I still don’t know where home is.

I have encountered home a few times … usually when I least expect it. But there is no specific defining characteristic that said to me: Yep, THIS is home. For many, home may be conjured into being by a specific location, but I guess for us wandering nomadic types, defining home is not so easy. The platitudes tell us home is where your heart is, but what if your heart keeps moving too?

I guess this is also part of my rebirth … defining home for myself. It has fully obvious to me that it will NOT be a specific location, but a part of myself that I will discover (or create?) that I will carry with me continuously. I am seeking my home.

I am kind of annoyed by the belief that I already have it with me. I am just too blinded by my own choices and over-active ego to SEE it yet. Anyway, if there are still folk out there who are interested in my oddly evolving adventures (even if they are a far cry from what they started as), sometime in the next few days I will be going with my partner in crime (or adventuring) to the wilds of Akron, Ohio. There she will ply her trade as a professional torture artist, while I turn a blind eye and ears to the evident agony and help book her clients, all to recoup some of the money we have been shovelling out in recent weeks. She calls it deep tissue massage, but I am still struggling with my conscience over this. hopefully I will have tales to tell of the flora and fauna of the area, and maybe even find a few notable sentences for the pending book. In the mean time, here are a few more pictures to distract y’all:

The post Where IS home anyway? first appeared on thrumyeyes.

“Why am I out here?”

Ultimately, every hiker will be asking themselves this question… most likely after a particularly bad or painful day. The funny thing is, at that moment in time they may not even know the answer to that question. We all start the trail with our reasons; our own justifications for attempting such a grand adventure. However, it seems to me that the justification we give ourselves to get started may be completely different from the “real” reason we are out here… often to our own surprise.

But that is how life really works.

This question has been bouncing around my mind like a pong ball of late, especially as any vision I had of the HOW of this journey has been completely replaced by that pesky bugger known to some as reality. In the last few weeks, I have found a new hiking partner, systematically gotten caught by every hiking town with any allure in a 300 mile radius, spent about 6 times my budget, found at least 3 places  that will be my future life and career, walked several hundred miles … most of it NOT on the trail, embraced my inner savage, helped my current hiking partner find her future porch rocking chair mate-for-life, had a nasty stomach flu, and dyed my hair and beard red, blue, and purple.

Yet I still am not clear what I expect to find.

This confusion, combined with a severe lack of cooperation from the Gods of Technology, is why I have not updated in a while … incidentally causing a few folk to wonder if I had been abducted by aliens or possibly eloped with a Sasquatch. Now, as I lie beneath a clear night sky in the oddly appropriately named Hungry Mother State Park (Virginia), I am in a position to share once again, even if I am not quite sure what I am actually sharing. My future vision, usually vague when it comes to myself, is now about as clear as wearing a blindfold in a sandstorm. The way I see it, these are the possible scenarios:

1. I will eventually finish. Preferably before the grand celebration party that is no doubt being planned as I type. Or at least in the next decade.
2. I will be kidnapped by aliens or elope with a lonely Sasquatch.
3. I will start a hippie commune. Or go a little more upscale with a bed and breakfast/hostel. I will eventually become part of the mythology of the trail.
4. I will actually complete a book.
5. A combination of any of the above.
6. None of the above.

Yep. All is clear now.

NOTE: One of the tech issues I have been fighting with tooth and nail has to do with photo transfer, so sadly youse guys are gonna have to wait for a new batch of masterpieces. 

The post Navigating without a map first appeared on thrumyeyes.

Rain. Snow. Pain. Slow.

That kind of sums up the last few days. I finally entered the “dreaded” Smoky Mountains. Why dreaded. Well first there is the whole bureaucracy involved with getting through the park. Can’t even escape The Man in the woods. Add to that every previous hikers tales of what to expect … and the imagination has you quivering in your shoes.

First lesson learned: don’t listen to what anyone else says.

This section of The Trail is beautiful. It is cold and unpredictable. It is both harder and easier than one expects. And the local Trail Runners have a nasty habit of telling you it is MUCH easier than it actually is (note the first lesson).

Second lesson learned: most of our physical limits are self imposed.

What still remains the best part Of the journey is the people met along the way … on and off the trail. There is a whole trail based culture that truly can not be fully understood by those who have not experienced it. This includes those who offer trail magic … even the spontaneous kind. With that in mind, I want to offer a special shout out to Joe, Linda, and Jonathan. Thanks again for the ride. It was great meeting you.

A couple of side notes: I am writing this from Gatlinburg, Tennessee, the “Redneck Las Vegas”. As usual, it is sucking me in for a few days. I also am about 3 inches smaller in belt size.

The post Just do it! first appeared on thrumyeyes.

The more I embrace this adventure, the more I truly understand why I am here. Some are devoted to ensuring they walk along every inch of the trail so they can say they truly walked the WHOLE trail. The purists want to do it in proper order too. Some are focused on how fast they can finish the journey. Many view the “civilization” along the way as nothing more than resupplying and shower spots.

In short everyone has their own reasons and expectations. The Trail is distilled life after all.

I have come to realize I am not really a purist when it comes to completing The Trail. It is not necessary that I see every inch of it, nor do I need to complete it in a certain time frame. For me this journey is about exploring parts if the world I have yet to explore. It just happens that at the moment my focus is Appalachia. To me this means that I have no specific agenda or schedule to follow. I am about the journey, wherever it may (or may not) take me.

This means I have no issue with staying put for a few days because I enjoy the people I recently met, or want to play more in a specific local. At first I was kind of disappointed in my progress. If the expectation is to complete The Trail in a certain time frame, I am FAR behind schedule. But once I truly realized that is not really my aim, my own expectations and self-view changed as well.

One advantage of this realization is I am not completely beating my unfit body into a bloody pulp. One DISadvantage is that I have spent most of the money I set aside for the WHOLE trip in a month. I really did not imagine I would be interacting so much with the “civilized” world. Live and learn.

Ultimately this is a journey of reconnection. Reconnection with nature. Reconnection with my social consciousness. Reconnection with humanity. And most importantly, reconnection with myself. Where the journey ends is yet to be determined.

For all I know it will have NO well defined end.

The post Clarity of vision first appeared on thrumyeyes.

Day: 24
Trail miles: 137.1

Today was a hard day.

Ironic since I slack hiked. For the non-hiking community, that is when a “Sherpa” carries your bag while you pretend to be hardcore with 5 lbs on your back.

Switch to a bit o’ stream of consciousness …

One step at a time.
One step …
One step …
One step …
How far do I need to go? Meaningless question …
One step …
One step …
One step …
Uphill? Downhill? Meaningless words …
One step …
One step …
One step …
Hunger? Thirst? Pain? Just sensations …
One step …
One step …
One step …
Stop? That’s harder …
One step …
One step …
One step …
Am I moving? Or is the universe moving beneath my stillness?
One step …
One step …
One step …
I am just an infinitesimally small speck of sensations on a slightly less infinitesimally small speck of dust.
One step …
One step …
One step …

Today was a hard day.

The post A hard day … first appeared on thrumyeyes.

Day: 6,7
Weather: sunny, hot
Distance: 31 miles

Nothing all that exciting to report, other than the continuous beautiful scenery. Staying at the hostel helped refresh us. We had two good, if somewhat hot days of hiking, though we are still doing fairly short distances as we continue to get our trail legs.

Yesterday we hooked up with The Preacher, who is still with us today. The four of us camped at a scenic little site just shy of an area that required bear canisters to camp in. Absolutely stunning sky that night, followed by a gorgeous sunrise. I also had to repair a strap on my pack (already). Not a high mark for the pack.

Today we summited Blood Mountain, the highest point in Georgia. One of us has a little bit of a bug so we are staying at another hostel tonight, at a very well known outfitters. So far all I got there was materials to make a belt. We snuck in a laundry while here.

The post Step by step first appeared on thrumyeyes.